The morning sun had not yet fully dispelled the thin mist on the streets of Ximu Town when Shi Hanfeng’s door was knocked upon.
Just awakened and not yet clad in his signature armor, Shi Hanfeng frowned slightly.
He wore only a dark inner shirt and casual clothes as he walked to the door and pulled back the latch.
Outside, Aili stood there, lively as ever.
She had changed out of her tattered nun’s robe into a set of well-fitted light gray training clothes. Her once-loose golden hair was neatly tied into a high ponytail, revealing her smooth forehead and slender neck.
A heavy-looking training sword was strapped to her back, and though her face bore a hint of nervousness, there was more youthful eagerness in her expression—like a seedling yearning for sunlight and rain.
“G-Good morning, Mr. Rochet!”
She spoke crisply, but as her gaze fell fully upon the face of the one who opened the door, her voice cut off abruptly.
Aili’s eyes widened instantly, as if struck by some invisible force.
She hadn’t slept for most of the night before, a strange and private thought swirling again and again in her mind.
What kind of face lay beneath the helmet of Mr. Rochet, the one who had saved her, whose aura was cold as ice, called the ‘Demon Paladin’?
Between drowsiness and waking expectation, some hazy images had surfaced and faded away.
But unlike other girls harboring maidenly dreams, Aili’s fantasies carried a subtle possessiveness she herself didn’t even realize.
She even hoped his face would be more ordinary, perhaps with some scars or imperfections.
That way, his incredible strength and the occasional faint gentleness beneath his hardened exterior might belong to her alone—someone who could see past the surface.
Receptionist: Hello.
Now, with no helmet to cover it, that magnificent face, surpassing ordinary beauty and blending a strange charm of divinity and demonic allure, was fully revealed in the soft morning light.
For someone like Aili, who now had feelings and a special kind of longing, the impact of that face—so similar to a certain ex-bishop—was overwhelming.
The color on her cheeks rose visibly, from pale to crimson, until it seemed ready to spill blood.
Her mouth hung slightly open, her carefully prepared greeting completely forgotten, her mind a blank except for the stunning image reflected in her icy blue eyes.
Unfortunately, she failed the charm resistance check.
Shi Hanfeng looked at her dazed expression, wanting to laugh a little.
It wasn’t as if he’d always hidden his face like some assassin—he’d been open from the start. It was just that this person had never bothered to ask around.
He cleared his throat softly.
It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to snap Aili out of her trance and make her realize her own loss of composure. Panic quickly took over.
“S-sorry! Mr. Rochet! I…”
She tried to recover, instinctively attempting to use etiquette to mask her embarrassment, but what came out was a question riddled with holes.
“Aren’t you, um, curious how I knew you lived here?”
Shi Hanfeng smiled and shook his head, a hint of teasing in his tone.
“I’ve been staying at this Oak Barrel Inn for over half a month. Ximu Town isn’t that big. Is it really hard to find out where a conspicuous guy lives?”
“Ugh…”
Aili let out a sound like a punctured balloon and wilted instantly.
She realized she’d asked an incredibly stupid question, and the heat on her cheeks only increased, nearly steaming.
Extreme embarrassment made her stomp her foot lightly, as if angry at her own clumsiness.
Shi Hanfeng nodded silently, watching her lively reaction with satisfaction—a stark contrast to the girl on the verge of collapse in the depths of the Goblin nest just yesterday.
‘Her mental resilience is even stronger than I expected, full of tenacity. Well, she’s the future Sword Saintess capable of standing alone and even challenging the Demon King. There’s no way a single bitter setback could crush her completely.’
“Come in,” he said, stepping aside.
“There are some basics I need to explain before heading to the guild training grounds.”
The Adventurers’ Guild hall was still quiet at this hour, with only a few early-rising Adventurers exchanging simple tasks or bragging over ale about the previous day’s exploits.
Shi Hanfeng led the still-blushing Aili to the counter.
The familiar Receptionist looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes at their pairing before she quickly donned a professional smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Rochet. And Sister Ailisi Disixiu? It’s wonderful to see you recovering so well.”
“Good morning, Receptionist. I’d like to rent a free training room, for about three days.”
Shi Hanfeng kept it concise.
“No problem. Room Three just happens to be available.”
The Receptionist swiftly processed the paperwork, her gaze lingering between Shi Hanfeng’s handsome face and Aili’s new training attire with subtle curiosity.
“It seems Sister Aili has found herself an exceptional teacher.”
Aili looked down, shyly twisting her fingers in her clothes, but her eyes shone brightly.
Shi Hanfeng simply smiled, took the key, and headed straight for the training room.
Aili hurried to follow, like a little tail.
The heavy wooden door closed behind them, shutting out the noise from the outside world.
It was a spacious stone room, the floor covered with soft mats to prevent injury, walls hung with various training weapons, and the air thick with the scents of wood, leather, and faint sweat.
“Draw your sword.”
Shi Hanfeng walked to the center, equipping the Pope of the Pure Court set.
“Attack me with your strongest technique. Show me your current level.”
Aili took a deep breath, drew her Training Heavy Sword, and assumed a standard Cathedral Knight Opening Stance.
Solemn, steady, filled with ritual—but only that.
Compared to Rochet’s swordsmanship in her memories, she was far behind, though teaching a novice was still well within his means.
“Haa!”
She shouted, stepping forward and swinging in a horizontal slash.
The movement was textbook, the strength decent, her golden ponytail tracing a dazzling arc behind her.
Shi Hanfeng simply sidestepped, extending two fingers to lightly flick the incoming wooden blade.
“Vmm!”
A jolt of force traveled through, making Aili’s wrist go numb. The powerful strike veered off course, and she nearly lost her balance.
“Too stiff. Footwork unstable. Poor force application.”
Shi Hanfeng’s voice was flat, dissecting her technique like a scalpel.
“Your teacher taught you the form, but not the meaning. Full of openings.”
Aili steadied herself, a flash of frustration on her face, but more an awakening.
She bit her lip and raised her sword again.
“Please guide me, Mr. Rochet!”
“Of course.”
Shi Hanfeng’s gaze turned serious.
“The first step of instruction is making you remember what a fatal flaw truly is.”
***
For the next three days, Room Three became a space isolated from the calm of Ximu Town.
Time here was filled with sweat, repeated shouts, and cold commands.
If Shi Hanfeng’s teaching style could be summed up in one word, it would be ‘harsh.’
He personally corrected every minor detail of Aili’s form to perfection.
The angle of her grip, the tension in her wrists, the distance between elbow and body, the shifting of balance in footwork, the coordination of waist and core in each swing…
A simple slash would be repeated a thousand times until her arms burned, muscle memory erasing every bad habit she’d previously learned.
“Wrong! Drop your wrist three degrees!”
“Balance! Is your center of gravity just decoration?”
“Step up! Do you want your legs chopped off?!”
“Too slow! A second’s hesitation on the battlefield is enough to die three times!”
“Predict! Fight with your mind, not just your muscles!”
“Your left side’s exposed! If an enemy strikes there, you’re already dead!”
His words lashed at her nerves like cold whips, merciless and precise.
In sparring, he would always find Aili’s weakest points and strike ruthlessly, making her learn the consequences of each mistake through failed blocks, bruises, and tumbles.
Physical training and reaction speed drills were pushed beyond Aili’s limits—weighted runs, extreme dodges, impact endurance…
Countless times, Aili collapsed from exhaustion, sweat streaming down her flushed cheeks and soaking her thick training clothes, every breath burning in her lungs, her slender arms trembling so badly she could barely grip her sword.
Yet whenever she thought she’d truly reached her limit, a gentle surge of life energy would flow into her body at just the right moment.
It was Shi Hanfeng’s Wish of the White Flower.
Bruises faded, stamina restored, and muscle pain eased rapidly.
But before she could catch her breath, his voice would ring out again.
“Get up. Continue.”
He was like a merciless blacksmith, tempering her under heat and hammer, driving out all impurities and weakness.
Aili sometimes felt wronged, even shed tears in exhaustion, but she never voiced surrender.
Each time she was struck down, the fire in her ice-blue eyes only burned fiercer.
She clenched the sword with trembling hands, stood back up, fixed her stance, and focused her gaze—determined to carve every word and motion of Shi Hanfeng into her very soul.
Her progress was astounding.
From clumsy and instantly ‘killed’ in the beginning, to blocking three or four strikes, and eventually counterattacking with instinct and hard-earned fundamentals.
Her movements shed the rigid formality of cathedral teachings, becoming streamlined and sharp with real battle practicality.
Shi Hanfeng watched her growth in silence.
‘Amazing talent…’
He mused.
‘Her body control, battle instincts, learning speed… No wonder, even after such tragedy, she could rise to become the Sword Saintess who fought the Demon King.’
‘She’s almost too gifted.’
He was sure that, with a bit more caution, Aili would soon possess Silver rank strength.
The difference among people in this world was just too great.
What was a ‘genius’ among ordinary people was still below a true Adventurer, and even non-warrior Silver ranks could struggle against a large Goblin.
Those favored by the gods started far ahead.
He even felt a tinge of regret—if there was enough time, he might have seen the very Sword Saintess capable of slaying the Demon King.
At this rate, three days was enough for her to survive.
He’d gift her two pieces of equipment before leaving.
If she still managed to die to Goblins, there was nothing more he could do.
During the rare breaks, Aili savored the only moments of gentleness she could find.
“Mr. Rochet, what’s the most important thing in battle? Strength? Speed? Or skill?”
“To survive. Everything else is just a tool for that.”
“What if you meet an enemy much stronger than yourself?”
“Then use the environment, create surprises, target weak points, or run without looking back. Staying alive is what matters.”
She once asked, curiously, about his mysterious healing power.
“That miracle you use to heal wounds instantly—what god’s blessing is that? I’ve never seen it before.”
Shi Hanfeng glanced at her.
“That’s a power from another path. For you, focus on mastering the sword in your hand. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
Aili would nod obediently, asking no more.
Yet in the shared sweat, hardship, and fleeting peace, her respect and reliance only deepened—along with a growing, almost instinctive awe for her temporary teacher.
***
The third day. Dusk.
Orange sunlight filtered through the high window, turning drifting dust gold and red, casting two long shadows across the cold stone floor.
“Clang!”
Wooden swords collided with a crisp sound.
Aili nimbly retreated half a step, dissipating the force, then flicked her wrist—her Training Heavy Sword tracing a sharp arc to thrust at Shi Hanfeng’s side.
Smooth, decisive, and honed over days of training.
Shi Hanfeng deflected and floated back, raising a hand in a stopping gesture.
“That’s enough.”
Aili immediately lowered her sword, chest rising with heavy breaths, sweat still beading on her forehead and temples. Yet she stood tall, eyes clear and sharp—a far cry from the powerless nun three days ago.
Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of their uneven breathing.
Shi Hanfeng looked at the girl he’d personally trained, satisfied with her transformation.
“I’ve taught you all I can in these three days. Remember—when defense isn’t enough, rely on your gear. Be prepared, stay alert, and don’t get careless. The rest is up to you, to experience, temper, and comprehend through real battles and life-and-death crises. No one can teach you everything.”
Aili raised her sleeve to wipe the sweat near her eyes, gazing at Shi Hanfeng with a complicated expression.
In her eyes surged gratitude, reluctance, uncertainty about the future—but finally, a newfound resolve.
“Yes!”
Her voice was hoarse from exhaustion, but rang out clear and strong.
“Thank you so much, Rochet… Teacher!”
She changed the address, from the distant ‘Mister’ to the more meaningful ‘Teacher.’
“These three days… I’ll never forget them.”
Shi Hanfeng met her gaze, knowing the final moment had come.
He was silent for a while, dusk casting deep shadows across his face.
“Then,”
He said quietly.
“Let’s eat first.”
“After we eat, I’ll tell you why I have to leave—and the real reason I can’t take you with me.”