The Transcendent Godslayer
Chapter 67: Finesse Combat Conditioning

Chapter 67: Finesse Combat Conditioning

Days passed, and Kallen went through hell and purgatory all at once.

Every dawn began with bruises. Every dusk ended in agony. His body ached beyond death—from pushing his limits, shattering them, and being stitched back together by the cold mercy of his regeneration trait. Then breaking himself again.

And again.

He trained like a man possessed—because he was. If he wanted a way out, he’d forge it with blood, bone, and sheer madness.

Menelaus, who had once avoided him entirely, unwilling to risk killing the boy by accident, began to falter.

That was because Kallen started feeding him.

Not words.

Not actions.

But intent.

It started when Castor had cornered him in the forge, while he was tasked to work and clean like slave. Kallen didn’t say a word. He didn’t even glare. He simply thought about tearing through the entire room, his will blooming like a field of corpses.

He had to work like a Slave? His entire conviction was to live a free man. Literally, and metaphorically.

The air thickened.

The shadows shivered.

And Menelaus reacted instantly—as if possessed by a trauma wired into his spine. That wisp of Killing intent had already been branded to his soul, and anytime he felt it, he saw the image of that afternoon in his mind.

It was like he could hear his son call him weak, for succumbing to Zephyrus intent of wanting Kallen alive, and he hated it

He struck Kallen with a grace so cruel it became art. Every blow laced with surgical pain, perfectly placed to hurt like hell but never kill.

And Kallen, that night, he healed.

The next day, he provoked, him again.

At first, it was just him entertaining the thought of slaying them all. But Menelaus always felt it. Whether Kallen was actually projecting his killing intent or not, anytime he thought about it, it lit up a fire of fury in Menelaus. Kallen didn’t know how.

It became a sick dance. An obsession. A ritual. Both to Menelaus as revenge, and Kallen as training.

Kallen called it: Finesse Combat Conditioning.

Every bruise was a build up to a stat increase. Every fracture, an unspoken level-up. His regeneration trait grew faster, sharper, more refined. Just like he pushed it to the limits on the mirage assassin, he broke its limits on himself. He discovered he could even regenerate muscle mass... which was insane.

But regeneration wasn’t nourishment.

He was only fed enough to stay alive, and the effects began to show... pale skin, thinner limbs, sunken cheeks. His body was cannibalizing itself to regenerate. But his eyes never dimmed. They burned brighter and hungrier.

Because he had achieved a breakthrough.

At first, he didn’t know how Menelaus could almost read his thoughts anytime he thought about killing him. Until Menelaus said it himself in an attempt to spite him.

His thoughts were painting pictures in reality—images only those with higher-tier Will could read.

As much as Will granted authority over the world, those with higher Will tiers had a certain authority over those with lesser.

So he began the most important training of all: Will Control.

To imagine slaughter and not ripple. To think death and not even a Second Ascension ascendent who’s Will had evolved over his own, would be able to tell.

It was a completely delusional thought, but it worked. Desperation often brought breakthrough. He also had the [Illusion] trait to thank, as it was what helped him understand how Will was imposed on the world.

Where before he had been like a vibrating edge thirsty for blood, now he was a blade hidden in plain sight. Quiet. Still. Deadly. Menelaus could no longer read him... unless he wanted to be read.

So Kallen let him.

He crafted a mask. Those emotionless eyes Menelaus always saw when he looked at him, gave way to a boy slowly breaking, showing hate, defiance, and pathetic resistance. All while learning metallurgy, folding steel, and understanding the forge with the same brutal focus he gave to pain.

Menelaus fell for it.

Every attack now came with more venom. He thought Kallen was becoming a cornered animal. So those eyes made him satisfied.

He didn’t know he was just dancing on the palm of a person crazy enough to use him as a hammer, for shaping himself into a weapon.

---

And while he was undergoing his so-called training, he didn’t stop there. He was working in the shadows too.

He began to creep into the minds of the other orcs.

Like a literal child, he would praise a weapon one of them forged, calling it the greatest piece of artwork he’d ever seen. The next day, he would do it again. And again on the third day.

Then he would praise another’s work. Then someone else’s right after.

Since Menelaus never gave them that kind of acknowledgment, Kallen, somehow, became the one whose opinion decided who was the best forger.

And so, he began to worm his way into their hearts.

As much as they began to see him as kin, they feared him just as much. No one dared to target him. A wisp of his intent was enough to make them want to piss themselves. And he always released it, only to get jumped by Menelaus. Was

The other orcs thought he was insane—but somehow valiant. Orcs didn’t bow their heads to anyone who couldn’t completely dominate them. That was their culture.

They saw the hell Menelaus inflicted on Kallen daily, yet every day, the boy still released that suffocating killing intent on Menelaus... and then acted like it was nothing moments later.

While Menelaus saw a crumbling child, they saw a human with the will of an Orc.

And with one, he began to affect all.

Castor was always picking fights with Democles, and Aeneas found himself isolated.

Democles was no longer keeping a cool head, as Castor was always butting heads with him.

While Democles tried to maintain a rational mindset, suspecting that something wasn’t quite right, Castor also felt it... though for entirely different reasons.

He couldn’t pinpoint it, but by now, they all knew Kallen wasn’t even awakened. A detail Kallen might’ve let slip—intentionally or not.

So how had an unawakened human killed a First Ascension ascendent? Sneak attack or not, it didn’t make sense.

Orcs naturally had stronger physiques than humans. No matter how skilled, how could an unawakened human child kill a First Ascension orc in his element?

It was illogical.

Democles had said humans weren’t the only ones who did despicable things. And Castor agreed—that was logical. Democles was always the smarter one.

So maybe Kallen wasn’t the one who did it. Maybe it was someone else. That would explain why Menelaus hadn’t killed him—why he only struck whenever Kallen released that terrifying intent. Maybe the child was wronged, and his anger was justified.

One day, Castor confronted him, asking a very straightforward question. The answer only solidified his suspicions.

"Do you believe I could?" Kallen asked, shaking his head, fists clenched, voice brimming with frustration.

It was calculated. A direct denial wouldn’t have been enough and could still raise doubts. But if Castor came to the conclusion himself—it would become his truth.

And that’s why Castor kept clashing with Democles, who didn’t buy into the theory even when Castor presented his "obvious and clear truth."

To Castor, Democles was being arrogant—insulting his intelligence by not believing him. Or maybe Democles was just bitter he didn’t come to the same conclusion first.

It bred resentment.

It bred hate.