"Alright. I'm in"

Mela's smile was radiant, as if the significant disparity in size between the two of them didn’t bother her in the least.

This display of confidence, however, made Moen hesitate for a moment:

“Teacher Mela, are you sure… you really don’t use battle aura or magic?”

“I won't.”

“And no strange, overpowered skills?”

“None.”

“And no sudden out-of-nowhere, god-tier weaponry?”

“Of course not… Are you coming or what? Why all the chatter?” Mela’s amber eyes betrayed a faint note of impatience.

“Wait, let me think… let me think…”

Moen bowed his head slightly, as if genuinely assessing his odds of victory.

Then suddenly, his foot stomped heavily into the ground.

Several delicate flowers, along with the dirt beneath them, were flung upward in a flurry, showering down toward the unguarded Teacher Mela.

In that instant, Moen’s entire body tensed.

A blazing heat surged behind him—the Alchemy Core activated. Time deceleration commenced!

And at that same moment—Shadow Step!

With the combined enhancement, Moen transformed into a blur shadow, practically imperceptible to the human's eye, charging through the dirt-obscured field of view toward Mela.

A head-on clash of brute force? Forget it.

Who knows what kind of hidden powerhouse is encased beneath this thousand-year-old lolicon guise of hers?

And given the massive gap in age and strength between us, even cheating a little shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right?

Mela tilted slightly to avoid the flying dirt and flowers, but that gave Moen the opening he needed. He was already upon her!

His fist clenched tight, infused with battle aura, and he thrust it forward with all his might.

Embedded within that punch—Thunder!

“Take this, my lolicon-killing punch!”

Without a shred of mercy in his attack, Moen swung the punch that embodied everything he had ever learned, amplified by a whirlwind force that sent a cascade of dislodged flower petals hurtling as it bore toward Mela.

Boom!

A thunderous shockwave rippled outward.

Under Moen’s punch, the petite white-haired figure before him looked as though it might snap like a flower stem in a breeze.

But that was when Mela finally raised her eyes, slowly. Her crimson gaze captured the sight of Moen’s sudden approach and reflected it back at him.

Still that faint smile.

Still those calm, unflinching eyes.

Moen felt his heart drop. In the split-second before impact, he saw Mela gently lift one delicate finger.

And… beckoned.

In an instant—

BOOM!

The sheer force of it resembled a bolt of divine lightning tearing through the skies, but compared to Moen’s Thunder, the difference was monumental—like the deafening crash of a thunderstorm against the faint flutter of a mosquito’s wings.

The shockwave surrounding his fist was obliterated in an instant.

A torrent of overwhelming power descended, like the wrath of the heavens, utterly unstoppable.

Everything went black for Moen.

It felt like countless giant hammers collided into his chest all at once. A surge of blood rushed and roiled within him, rupturing the battle aura he struggled to maintain. The next thing he knew, he was sent flying backward, completely out of control.

A piercing ringing filled his ears as golden stars danced madly before his eyes. A metallic taste rose in his throat, and blood began seeping unbidden from the corners of his mouth and nostrils.

Teacher Mela had repelled him—completely neutralized him—with nothing more than one curl of a finger.

“Damn!”

It took an indeterminate amount of time for Moen to finally stabilize his surging blood flow.

Just as he tried to push himself back to his feet, he felt an unexpected weight press him down.

A petite figure had perched squarely on top of him.

With some difficulty, Moen turned his head.

There, Teacher Mela sat atop him. The silky fabric of her sleepwear hugged every subtle contour of her diminutive frame. Her small, lolicon-like buttocks imparted an indescribably soft sensation against him, her smooth, bare legs crossed as her delicate, snowy-white feet swung lazily through the air like steamed buns fresh out of the oven.

“This is it?”

Mela looked down at Moen with playful ridicule. “You couldn’t even withstand one finger? You’re hopeless, kid.”

“Nonsense!”

Moen’s face flushed red, but he stubbornly retorted, “I’m not hopeless—you cheated!”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“You used battle aura!”

“Nope.”

“Then just now…”

“That was purely physical strength.”

To illustrate, Mela raised a slender hand and curled her finger again.

This time, there was no apocalyptic clap of thunder—just a muted hum.

But even now, the air surrounding her finger visibly twisted and rippled, a feat Moen could only barely achieve with every ounce of his might.

This closer, slower motion left Moen no choice but to admit—she really hadn’t used a single trace of battle aura

“This… this is?”

Moen’s eyes widened in disbelief as a chilling realization set in. His teeth chattered as he stammered, “I hate to ask, but… your body… could it be… equally strong?”

“Of course.”

Mela gave a soft chuckle. “You didn’t think I spent all these millennia just sleeping, did you? Though I only exercise occasionally when bored. But now…”

Flexing her fist leisurely before Moen, she added nonchalantly, “Killing one The Crowned with my bare hands should be manageable.”

“…”

So, she really is a gold-plated hulk wearing the guise of a lolicon…

“But you still cheated!”

Moen wasn’t ready to concede. He shouted in protest, “You used some weird techniques!”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar! How could you just curl your finger and…”

Moen’s words were abruptly interrupted.

Because one of Mela’s soft, snowy-white feet swung up, its five petite, adorably rounded toes spreading as the big toe poked his cheek, repeatedly tracing circles across his face.

“You always talk big, but most of you is actually small,” Mela teased.

“Mmfff, mmfff…”

With his face smothered by the tender, fragrant foot of a lolicon, Moen’s expression twisted into unspeakable humiliation.

This… this is terrible! Unforgivable!

If she weren’t so strong, I’d…

But considering I can’t beat her, I don’t exactly have much of a choice, do I? Heh.

“By the way,” Mela continued, “that wasn’t some strange technique. Doesn’t it look… familiar to you?”

“Familiar?”

Moen froze.

He reviewed the scene in his mind, step by step, until the realization hit him.

“You mean just now… that was… Thunder?”

My Thunder!?

“Exactly. I simply saw your move, it took me 0.01 seconds to learn it, and another 0.01 seconds to refine it. That's all.”

What the hell is this ultimate golden collector's edition Sharingan?!

She doesn’t just copy—just one glance and she can improve it? That's too exaggerated.

“That’s the benefit of experience,” Teacher Mela said. “Any technique, be it martial or magical, I only need a glance to understand its principles. From there, I can make improvements suited to my style.”

“As for the power of my improvements…”

A mischievous grin swept across Teacher Mela’s face.

“If I were to channel magic into the revised version, its output would easily be a hundredfold stronger than yours.”

Yeah, well, you’re probably one hundred times my age, too.

“…”

Mela’s smile faltered slightly as she glanced down at him. After a moment’s pause, she said, “Come to think of it, technically speaking, I haven’t properly taught you anything yet—have I?”

“What…”

Moen blinked.

“As your teacher, I suppose I owe it to you to at least fulfill some of my duties.”

Mela rose lightly to her feet.

“Or… are you telling me you can’t even stand up anymore?”

“Who said I can’t?!”

Moen’s eyes lit up. He flipped up in a perfect kip-up maneuver, drawing his blade Elizabeth as he struck a defiant pose.

“I’m still ready to go!”

“Good.”

Mela nodded approvingly. She glanced around for a moment, then plucked a single toothpick from the tray of leftover fruits beside the hot spring.

“Since this is a lesson with weapons, I’ll use this to spar with you.”

“…”

Moen’s brow twitched as his gaze fell on the toothpick. Unable to stop himself, his eyes flickered downward briefly before he exhaled a sigh of relief and said, “Teacher Mela, your sense of restraint is it serious?”

“What restraint?”

“Well… never mind! Forget it…”

Mela shot him a strange, questioning look. Then, her eyes narrowed slightly, her laughter returning to that familiar, dazzling brightness.

“Oh, one more thing. Before we begin, I have a little question for you.”

“What is it?”

“All those things you were thinking earlier—about ‘ultimate lolicon-killing punch,’ about ‘gold-plated hulks,’ about double your age… what did you mean by that, hmmm?”

“…”

Moen instantly froze.

Crap.

He’d forgotten that this old lolicon could read minds—and held grudges.

But it was too late.

Mela flicked the toothpick delicately between her fingers.

At that moment, the surrounding light seemed to ignite.

It was as if endless arcs of thunder gathered and coiled around that tiny weapon in her grasp.

And then… they came crashing down.