Chapter 31 – The Ugliest Workout in the World

【Valerius PoV】

My life had officially become a joke.

I stood in the center of the estate’s private training courtyard, the morning sun way too cheerful for what was about to happen. Jin leaned against the far wall like a statue carved from living shadow, his arms crossed and his expression the textbook definition of bored indifference.

Yuna sat on the stone bench under the cherry tree, a delicate porcelain teacup balanced on her knee and a smile that promised pain. Mei stood next to me wearing the expression of a prisoner facing execution, her hands clasped in front of her and her shoulders hunched.

We were about to get destroyed.

“This will be educational.”

Jin’s voice cut through the morning air like a blade through silk, pushing off the wall and walking toward us with measured steps. Each footfall was precise and controlled, like a predator closing in on wounded prey.

“You will both demonstrate a basic defensive stance.”

I knew this was going to be bad, having read enough training arc disasters in novels to recognize the setup. The overconfident protagonist gets humbled by reality, stripped of delusions and forced to face mediocrity. The difference was that I was self-aware enough to know I was trash tier, though that knowledge didn’t make the upcoming humiliation any easier to swallow.

I planted my feet shoulder-width apart and raised my hands, hoping muscle memory from fencing lessons would carry me through.

“Like this?”

Jin stared at me for three full seconds, his face showing absolutely nothing. That somehow made it worse, like watching a judge deliberate on a death sentence.

“No.”

Yuna’s laugh was a tinkling melody of pure sadistic joy, taking a slow sip of her tea and setting the cup down with exaggerated care.

“Oh this is going to be good.”

Mei attempted her own stance, bending her knees and putting up her fists like a nervous boxer. Her whole body was trembling, caught between the instinct to flee and the obligation to stay.

“Am I doing it right, Master?”

“Absolutely not.”

Yuna didn’t even look up from her tea, just waved her hand dismissively in Mei’s general direction.

“Your center of gravity is a disaster, a stiff breeze could knock you over. Actually, let’s test that theory.”

She flicked her wrist, a gust of wind materializing from nowhere and slamming into Mei. The girl yelped and toppled sideways like a bowling pin, hitting the ground with a muffled thud and a cloud of dust.

I winced, that looked like it hurt.

“See? Pathetic.”

Yuna took another sip of tea, her smile widening.

“Your turn, Baron, show us what noble training looks like.”

I suddenly regretted every life choice that had led me to this moment, every decision that brought me to this courtyard of humiliation. Jin stepped closer and circled me like a predator examining prey, his eyes sweeping over my stance with clinical precision.

“Your weight distribution is wrong, your shoulders are too tense, your breathing is shallow and panicked.”

“I’m not panicked.”

“You are absolutely panicked.”

Yuna’s voice dripped with amusement, gesturing with her teacup toward my hands.

“Look at your fists, you’re clenching them so hard your knuckles are white. If you tried to throw a punch right now you’d probably break your own fingers.”

I glanced down, she was right. I forced my hands to relax, trying to find that middle ground between limp and death grip.

“Better, barely.”

Jin moved behind me and tapped the back of my knee with his foot, my leg buckling instantly and nearly sending me face-first into the dirt. I caught myself at the last second and stumbled forward, arms windmilling for balance.

“Your balance is nonexistent.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

Mei had climbed back to her feet, dust covering her training clothes and her hair a mess. She looked at me with the shared exhaustion of a fellow sufferer, two drowning people spotting each other in the same ocean.

“At least you didn’t fall over completely.”

“The bar is underground and you’re both still limbo dancing underneath it.”

Yuna’s commentary was brutal and oddly poetic, refilling her teacup from a small pot that Clara must have left for her. The head maid’s absence was suspicious, probably watching from a window somewhere and taking notes for later mockery.

“Again, both of you.”

Jin’s command was absolute, brooking no argument or delay. We scrambled back into position, me adjusting my feet and trying to remember what he said about weight distribution, Mei bending her knees and planting her feet wider.

“Marginal improvement, you’ve gone from complete disasters to merely catastrophic.”

“That’s progress, right?”

Mei’s hopeful tone made me want to laugh and cry at the same time, the desperate optimism of someone clinging to scraps. Yuna crushed that hope with surgical precision, her words a scalpel through illusion.

“Progress implies forward movement, you’re both still at the starting line. Actually, you’re behind the starting line, in the parking lot wondering where the race is.”

Jin stepped between us, demonstrating the stance with fluid grace. His feet were positioned perfectly, his hands relaxed but ready, his entire body a study in controlled power that made our attempts look like drunk toddlers playing pretend.

“This is a basic defensive position, notice the alignment, the balance, the readiness to move in any direction.”

I tried to copy him, really tried, but watching someone do something and actually doing it yourself were two completely different skill sets separated by an ocean of competence.

“You look like a scarecrow having a seizure.”

“Thanks, Yuna, super helpful.”

“I contain multitudes of helpfulness.”

She raised her teacup in a mock salute, the porcelain catching sunlight and gleaming like her cruel amusement. Jin ignored the banter and moved to Mei, adjusting her posture with small taps and nudges until she looked slightly less like a disaster.

“Better, still terrible, but less immediately offensive to observe.”

“I’ll take it.”

Mei’s small smile was genuine, at least one of us finding a silver lining in this nightmare. Jin returned his attention to me and I braced for more corrections, more humiliation layered on humiliation.

“Your problem is that you’re thinking too much.”

“Isn’t thinking supposed to be good?”

“Not when it paralyzes action, you’re so worried about doing it wrong that you’re doing everything wrong.”

That was annoyingly accurate, my genre awareness a double-edged sword. I knew all the tropes and all the ways protagonists got stronger, but I also knew how many times training went horribly sideways and turned gifted students into cautionary tales.

“Stop thinking, just move.”

Jin blurred forward, his hand shooting toward my face in what looked like a strike. My body reacted on pure instinct, jerking backward and raising my arms in a clumsy, uncoordinated motion that was something, at least.

“There, that’s the first genuine defensive movement you’ve made all morning.”

“I almost wet myself.”

“Fear is an excellent motivator.”

Yuna was full-on cackling now, setting her teacup down and leaning forward with gleaming eyes that promised more entertainment at our expense.

“Do it again, I want to see if he actually screams this time.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, I absolutely will.”

Jin moved again, going low and sweeping toward my legs with controlled precision. I jumped backward and nearly tripped over my own feet, arms windmilling wildly as I fought for balance like a circus performer on a tightrope.

“You’re alive, that’s a passing grade by the loosest possible definition.”

“I’m starting to understand why Mei always looks stressed.”

“You have no idea.”

Mei’s flat response earned a sharp look from Yuna, the master assassin pointing at her student with mock severity that barely concealed real judgment.

“You’re supposed to be defending, not commiserating, get back in position.”

Mei sighed but obeyed, standing side by side with me like two condemned prisoners awaiting execution. Jin and Yuna exchanged a look that communicated volumes without words, a silent conversation of shared cruelty.

“Simultaneous assault drill.”

“Oh this is going to be educational.”

Yuna stood and set her tea aside, stretching languidly like a cat waking from a nap. The movement was deceptively casual, I knew better, this woman could probably kill us both with a spoon and not spill her tea.

“On three.”

Jin’s voice was calm, that made it worse, the eye of a storm promising devastation.

“One.”

I shifted my weight and tried to remember literally anything he just taught me, my brain scrambling through fragments of instruction.

“Two.”

Mei grabbed my sleeve, her grip tight and desperate.

“If we die, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair.”

“Three.”

They moved as one, Jin coming at me from the left while Yuna closed on Mei from the right. It was coordinated and controlled and utterly terrifying, two apex predators toying with prey. I threw myself backward and collided with Mei, both of us going down in a tangle of limbs and shattered dignity.

Jin and Yuna stopped inches from where we’d been standing, looking down at us with expressions of mingled disappointment and amusement that somehow hurt more than any blow.

“That was the worst defensive maneuver I’ve ever witnessed.”

“I’ve seen training dummies with better reflexes.”

“We’re trying our best.”

My protest sounded pathetic even to my own ears, the whine of someone who knows they’ve failed spectacularly. Mei extracted herself from the pile and stood up, offering me a hand that I took gratefully.

We were both covered in dirt and embarrassment, twin monuments to incompetence.

“Your best is currently abysmal, but it’s a starting point.”

Jin’s assessment was clinical and oddly encouraging, like a doctor telling you the disease is treatable but the cure will hurt. Yuna retrieved her tea and took a long sip, smiling again with that cat-like satisfaction.

“Same time tomorrow, try not to die before then.”

“No promises.”

Mei’s deadpan response made me laugh despite everything, the dark humor of shared suffering. We limped off the training ground together like survivors of a natural disaster, behind us Yuna’s laughter echoing across the courtyard like the soundtrack to our defeat.

Tomorrow was going to be just as bad, possibly worse.

I couldn’t wait.