I Became A Zompirewolf



The early morning sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as Ashton stood by a small stream, his bare chest glistening with sweat. 

Clutched in his hand was Balmond, its blade catching the soft light as he swung it through the air with a precision that would shame even the greatest swordmasters. 

As he swung Balmond, droplets of water sprayed around him, creating a misty veil that added an almost mystical quality to the scene.

Ashton's muscles rippled with each powerful movement, his breath syncing with the rhythm of his strikes. 

The water at his feet was ankle-deep, cool and refreshing, and it invigorated him as he practised his swordsmanship. The gentle flow of the stream provided a soothing background melody, further enhancing his focus.

Training in water offered unique benefits, and Ashton had come to appreciate them over time, thanks to Flintmace's guidance. The resistance of the water increased the effort required for each swing, making his muscles work harder. 

It was like his blade was carving its way through not just air but a tangible force that pushed back against him. This extra resistance built strength and endurance, shaping his body into a formidable weapon.

But it wasn't just about strength. The water's natural buoyancy lessened the impact on Ashton's joints, reducing the risk of injury. The stream also acted as a natural cooling system, preventing him from overheating as he pushed his limits. 

Ashton's body was in its prime, but even he knew the importance of taking care of it, and the water provided a gentle environment for him to train without putting unnecessary strain on his muscles and bones.

As Ashton continued his practice, his focus remained unwavering. The smooth arcs of his sword reflected the fluidity of the water around him. His movements were both precise and powerful, each strike a testament to the hours of training he had invested in mastering his craft.

"You have been awkwardly quiet for a while now," Ashton asked Astaroth. "What's wrong?"

[Nothing much... just wondering about what the Xyrans are doing.]

"What do you mean?" Ashton asked while swinging Balmond again.

The sound of the water and the feel of it against his skin became part of his training routine. It wasn't just a physical exercise but a divine experience that engaged his senses. 

The serene surroundings cleared his mind, allowing him to fully immerse himself in the present moment. Ashton could feel the energy of the water, the earth beneath his feet, and the cool breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees.

[It has been a while since Beelzebub went 'missing', yet no one is bothering to look for him. It is somewhat suspicious, you know.]

Ashton stopped to ponder about what Astaroth had said. Beelzebub was supposed to be one of the few generals in the Xyran army. His missing should have been noticed by the Xyran upper echelon. 

Moreover, the Xyrans already knew that Beelzebub was headed to Earth, so the Xyrans should have sent a search party to look for him by now. Something that would eventually bring chaos to their planet. 

Yet, everything was strangely peaceful, and the Xyrans were more worried about their mines than Beelzebub. At that moment, Ashton had a thought cross his mind.

"Could it be the Xyrans wanted to get rid of him all along?" he said, letting go of Balmond for a moment. 

[Though unlikely, it would be the best opportunity to do it, if someone really wanted to get rid of him for whatever reason. But the question is-]

"Who would do such a thing?" Ashton completed Astaroth's thought. "Are they an ally or an enemy?"

[We could ask Flintmace about it and see if he has some clues.]

"Hm... I'll do it after I'm done training," Ashton mumbled, recalling Balmond in his hands. "It's not like we have anything else to do here."

As he resumed training, Ashton's shirtless form glistened with sweat and water as the sun climbed higher in the sky. He welcomed the sensation, feeling every droplet as it rolled down his skin. 

His body was a living instrument, attuned to the world around him. His heart beat in sync with the rhythm of his strikes, following a steady and powerful rhythm.

Ashton's breaths were steady, his concentration unbroken. He knew that this training was more than just physical; it was a way to harness his inner strength and tap into the deep reservoir of power within him. 

With each swing of Balmond, he felt the connection between his mind, body, and weapon grow stronger. The water amplified his efforts, making him feel more grounded and connected to the earth.

As the morning wore on, the misty veil around Ashton dissipated, carried away by the gentle breeze. His muscles were warm and alive, his body humming with energy. 

The stream had become his training partner, pushing him to go beyond his limits while keeping him grounded and focused. He could feel his progress and the subtle improvements in his technique that came from this unique form of practice.

With a final, powerful swing of his sword, Ashton brought his training session to a close. He stood by the stream, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The water lapped at his ankles, soothing and cooling. He wiped the sweat from his brow, a satisfied smile on his lips.

[You felt that?]

'Of course, looks like there's an uninvited guest here.'

However, as he took a moment to catch his breath, he sensed a presence nearby. Instinctively, Ashton flung his sword in the direction he felt someone, his muscles reacting with well-practised precision, allowing Balmond to attain even greater momentum.

Balmond struck a tree with a resounding thud, severing it in half. Splinters flew through the air, and the tree collapsed with a loud crash. From behind the fallen trunk, a figure emerged, unfazed by the display of Ashton's prowess.

It was Mera, clad in workout attire, her expression a mixture of annoyance and amusement. She had been jogging nearby and had apparently stopped to observe Ashton's training.

"What are you doing here?"