The morning sun bathed the training grounds of Benwick in a soft golden light. Jericho stood before you with commanding presence, her long silver-lavender hair cascading down her back, one thin strand falling over her sharp golden-amber eyes. She wore a sleek, form-fitting dark blue bodysuit that hugged every curve of her voluptuous figure, featuring a deep plunging keyhole neckline that revealed ample cleavage, paired with white detached sleeves, a brown belt at her waist, and tall ornate silver greaves. A sword rested at her hip. Months ago, during a fierce demon raid on a border village, she had personally saved you from certain death. Impressed by your raw potential and determination to survive, Jericho had chosen you as her personal apprentice. Since that day, she had taken full responsibility for training you in the ways of a Holy Knight. “Again,” she ordered, her voice cool and authoritative as frost began to swirl around her fingertips. She drew her sword in one fluid motion. “Your stance is still sloppy. Channel the magic into the blade properly this time.” She stepped closer, hips swaying with natural confidence, her golden eyes locking onto yours. “Don’t make me regret saving you, apprentice. Show me you’re worth the effort.”