The moment Leon and Seraphine stepped outside, the merchant's voice rang out, too eager, too desperate.

"Esteemed lords! You've returned!" the merchant gushed, wringing his hands together. "I hope your brief respite was pleasant? Perhaps you require refreshments? The finest wines? Food prepared by master chefs? Anything you desire, I can—"

"Get lost," Seraphine cut him off coldly, her purple eyes flashing with annoyance.

The merchant's face went pale. He knew exactly who they were—their terrifying identities had been whispered among the merchant circles ever since they'd arrived. The silver-haired youth who radiated divine power and the purple-haired woman whose strength was legendary even among the kingdom's elite.

"O-of course! Right away!" The merchant scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own robes. He snapped his fingers at his attendants. "Everyone out! Clear the area! Now!"

In the blink of an eye, the merchant and his entire retinue had vanished from sight. The sound of hurried footsteps and rattling cargo could be heard retreating into the distance. They moved as if their lives depended on it—which, considering Seraphine's mood, might have been accurate.

Leon glanced at the ornate timepiece mounted on the tent's center pole. "Still about an hour before the meeting," he observed calmly.

"Hmm," he continued thoughtfully, "I think I'll head to the meeting point early. It'll give me time to examine those skill runes and technique scrolls I collected from all those nobles."

Seraphine's eyes lit up with genuine excitement, her previous annoyance forgotten. "Oh? The ones from their nobles' treasuries?" She practically bounced on her feet. "I've been curious about what kinds of techniques the royal families have been hoarding. Some of those collections go back centuries!"

Leon pulled out an elegantly inscribed paper from his inventory. The location was written in flowing script with golden ink—The Moonlight Garden, Royal Palace of the Kingdom of Shampain.

He studied it briefly. "It's only a couple of kilometers from here. Inside the royal palace grounds."

Seraphine grinned, a competitive gleam entering her purple eyes. "I'll reach there faster than you," she declared confidently. Without waiting for a response, she vanished in a blur of motion, the air cracking from the speed of her departure. Whoosh-CRACK! A whip-crack echoed through the square, the air folding around her as Leon felt the pressure thrum in his chest.

Leon stood there for a second, completely still, then a small smile played at the corners of his lips. If she really knew how fast I can move, she wouldn't even be trying, he thought with amusement.

But there was something endearing about her competitive spirit, something that made him want to play along. He could easily reach there instantly; he could move so fast that those few kilometers were practically nothing for him, but he chose not to use his overpowered strength.

Instead, he decided to match her physical strength, to make it interesting.

Let's see what I can do with just technique and skill, he thought, genuinely enjoying the moment.

Even his technique and skill had higher mastery than hers, but that was a challenge she had to overcome.

Leon crouched slightly, his muscles coiling like springs. Then he exploded forward, but not with raw power—with perfect technique. His foot placement was flawless, each step calculated to maximize efficiency. He used the wind element to reduce air resistance, the earth element to strengthen his push-off points, and his perfect body control to maintain optimal form.

Boom! The ground where he had been standing cracked in a spider web pattern. The ground detonated beneath him, vibrations rippling through the cobblestones as he shot forward like a cannonball.

He moved through the city like a silver ghost, using rooftops and walls as stepping stones. Where Seraphine had blown through with pure strength, leaving minor destruction in her wake, Leon flowed like water—faster, smoother, leaving barely a trace. His movement was art compared to her destructive path of lightning.

She was going much harder compared to the previous race.

Every step she took screamed determination; every breath I held matched her relentless, burning pace.

Citizens below caught only glimpses—a flash of silver hair, a whisper of wind, then nothing. Startled cries followed in his wake, the wind of his passing whipping banners and scattering loose fruit from the stalls. Some rubbed their eyes, wondering if they'd imagined it.

She's probably thinking she's winning, Leon mused as he deliberately stayed just slightly behind her, close enough that she'd sense him but not so close that she'd realize he was holding back. He could see her purple hair whipping in the wind ahead, her form blazing toward the palace with single-minded determination.

The game amused him.

The royal palace walls loomed ahead, their enchanted barriers meaningless to beings of their caliber. Seraphine crashed through them like they were paper. Leon flowed over them like wind, his teleportation technique allowing him to bypass rather than break.

Almost there, he thought, preparing to let her win by just a hair's breadth. The rush of air roared in my ears, my heart beating not from strain but from the thrill of the chase. She'll be insufferably smug about it, but that expression might be worth it.

The Moonlight Garden appeared before them, a breathtaking array of night-blooming flowers and crystalline fountains that gleamed even in daylight. The perfect meeting place for those who considered themselves above normal society.

And the perfect place to examine the treasures he'd claimed from those foolish nobles who thought they could manipulate him.

The Moonlight Garden's entrance came into view. At the last second, Leon shifted his technique imperceptibly and slipped through space with perfect efficiency.

Whoosh!

He materialized at the garden entrance a full second before Seraphine, standing casually with his arms crossed.

CRACK! Seraphine arrived in a burst of displaced air, purple hair wild from wind resistance. She skidded to a stop, eyes widening when she saw Leon already there.

"What—how?!"

Leon just smiled, that small, knowing expression that told her everything. He'd been playing with her the entire time.

Her face flushed with deeper indignation as realization dawned. He could sense it now—the energy signature, the force of his movements. He'd been using exactly the same physical strength as her, matching her power output perfectly. He'd won using pure technique and skill alone.

He handicapped himself to my level and still won, she thought, embarrassment burning hotter. It was worse than if he'd just used his full power. This was him proving a point.

Her fists clenched as she glared at his amused expression. Just like always, he'd—

But her cute annoyance faded as they both noticed something simultaneously.

The garden wasn't empty.

Despite the meeting being nearly an hour away, scattered throughout the crystalline fountains and night-blooming flowers were a few figures who were sitting on the bench.

The garden should have been empty. Instead, three familiar figures waited among the fountains, their presence impossible to mistake.

This was no coincidence.

Leon's eyebrows raised slightly.

They're here? was the thought that crossed both their minds simultaneously.

In both their minds, they were thinking about what might be the reason for them to be here, as this couldn't be a coincidence, as they moved toward their position.

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