Unholy Player-Chapter 171: Sword Practice (Part 3)

The sky brightened with a golden hue from the east, washing the world clean of its black-and-white shades and returning it to a clear blue.

Puffs of white clouds drifted away as birds in the treetops began their morning songs, blending with the rhythmic clang of steel on steel that had echoed all night.

As a Rank-3 Practitioner, Lucen Varnarest hadn’t shifted his stance once since the first light of dawn. His clothes remained unsoiled, his expression blank, and his grip on the sheathed sword relaxed as he parried and evaded every one of Adyr’s strikes with minimal effort. freeweɓnovel~cѳm

Adyr was hardly different in composure, though a touch more worn and tired. His breath was steady, his gaze flat, as if he hadn’t spent the entire night trading blows.

Hundreds of moves had been exchanged without a single one landing.

For hours, neither had spoken. Lucen had offered no pointers or advice, and Adyr had never asked for a break. The only conversational sound was the repeated clash of sword against scabbard.

And yet, strangely, Adyr still hadn’t received the message from the system acknowledging his swordplay talent.

He had countless talents he could register—dozens already recognized by the system, most of which he had ignored.

But this one talent was proving stubborn, refusing to surface.

He was not the type to give up. On the contrary, with every silent second the system withheld its recognition, his motivation only grew sharper and his stubbornness dug deeper.

Only now did he realize that proving a talent wasn’t easy. He’d first noticed this when he raised all his registered talents to level 2 and saw just how difficult it was to upgrade them to level 3. Now, with this, he could clearly see how hard it was for a practitioner to advance by the usual means.

And slowly, a faint respect for Lucen and the others began to take root in him.

To reach Rank 2, one had to register a level-3 talent. To reach Rank 3, one had to register a level-4 talent. There was no need to even wonder which talent had carried Lucen to Rank-3 Practitioner.

As the clanging sounds kept painting the surroundings and Adyr continued his training with absolute focus, he began to feel that this was dragging on too long. That was when he decided to play his trump card.

—

Adyr’s Earth body rose with the first light that broke through the dark clouds of morning.

He made his way to the bathroom and tended to his daily needs. In a world where water was precious, he cleaned his face and body with a damp cloth, then padded downstairs on silent feet.

The living room was empty. Marielle had finally pulled herself together enough to sleep in her own room. Adyr respected the rare silence and blended into it as he prepared breakfast.

This had long been his morning ritual, one he never grew tired of—an ordinary routine that grounded him.

It was the one routine that brought him comfort in his two chaos-filled lives, the one that made him feel as if everything was still under his control.

When he opened the refrigerator, it was still packed full. Even though Adyr stayed mostly at the player headquarters, Selina somehow always found time to visit, making sure Marielle and Niva had everything they could possibly need.

Marielle felt guilty about it—even though none of what had happened was Selina’s fault, her unrelenting care left Marielle at a loss for words.

Niva, on the other hand, was delighted. For girls her age, Selina was an icon; for boys, she was an unattainable queen. Getting close to someone like her had been a huge boost to Niva’s social life.

Even Victor had stopped by once with his father, Henry Bates. They had only stayed for ten minutes due to their busy schedules, but even that brief visit was enough to make Niva wonder again about Adyr’s background.

And then there were the most peculiar visitors of all—a giant over two meters tall, his skin gleaming like burnished bronze, who introduced himself as Adyr’s friend.

If it hadn’t been for the girl at his side—a striking young woman with green eyes who introduced herself as the giant’s little sister—Niva might have shut the door and called the police.

After preparing a hearty breakfast that satisfied both body and soul, and once the table was set, Niva padded downstairs, rubbing her eyes.

"Good morning, brother," she murmured.

"Good morning," Adyr replied with a faint smile, making a final adjustment to the table. "Where’s Marielle?"

"She’s coming," Niva said as she sat and dug into her bowl of black rice topped with olives arranged like a smiling face. "It’s weird eating something that smiles at me," she chuckled, though she didn’t hesitate to take a forkful when the taste of ginger hit her tongue.

"Oh, right—did you hear the news?" Niva asked, looking up suddenly.

"News?" Adyr paused, wondering which one she meant. Too much had happened lately for him to keep track.

"You must have heard," Niva went on. "It’s about your PTF division. The City Manager is going to hold a press conference soon and brief everyone about the newly established Gen-3 mutants."

Adyr had told them most of what had happened, so the internet buzz surrounding it wasn’t exactly surprising or exciting to them. But one particular rumor going around had caught Niva’s attention.

"People say the terrorist group that attacked Mom’s convoy was wiped out," Niva said, her tone curious and suspicious as she searched her brother’s face. "They’re saying the new division did it. Is that true?"

That incident—one where even the STF had failed and many civilians had died—was all over the web. Ever since Nevis and Boy had been rescued as survivors, online chatter had grown even louder.

Nevis had shared a few details with Niva and Marielle that nobody else knew. She’d told them about someone from the newly formed division, calling themselves PTF, who had stormed the Cannibals’ headquarters alone and saved them.

And especially those two orphans—Zelda and Boy—had drawn Niva’s interest. Since they had been transferred to the orphanage, she had spent time with them and heard their stories firsthand. Boy, in particular, never stopped mentioning someone named Anvil, which had only deepened her curiosity.

"Is that so?" Adyr replied smoothly, feigning ignorance. "I’ve been too busy to follow the news these days."

He genuinely hadn’t realized the incident was such a hot topic online. Even so, he had no intention of worrying Niva and Marielle with the dangerous work he was involved in. They had been through enough.

"I see," Niva said without suspicion and returned to her breakfast.

Whatever was going on would come to light at the press conference in a few days. Until then, she was content to wait.

Before long, Marielle joined them downstairs, and the three of them enjoyed their morning routine together as usual. Marielle brought up Zelda and Boy, too, and Adyr skillfully steered the conversation elsewhere, avoiding any unnecessary details.

He spoke casually about his duties at Player Headquarters and some small, harmless anecdotes from his other world. The atmosphere stayed light and warm until they had all finished eating, and Niva and Marielle set off for the orphanage, while Adyr prepared to return to Player Headquarters.

Finally, he was ready to put his trump card into play, determined to unlock his swordplay talent at last.

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