You are the newest member of the Crimson Lion, the rising star, her pet. And yet, as the entire kingdom prepares for the looming war against the Spade Kingdom, you find yourself not on the training grounds with your squadmates, but… elsewhere.

Specifically, you are dangling by one ankle from a gnarled tree branch high above a volcanic hot spring, your face approximately two feet from the bubbling, sulfur-scented water. The steam is doing wonders for your pores, you suppose, but less so for your dignity.

“Stop squirming,” a voice barks from below. “You’re disrupting the natural mana flow.”

You look down—or rather, up, given your inverted position. Mereoleona Vermillion stands on the rocky edge of the spring, arms crossed, her newly-short vermilion hair looking even more wild and untamed than usual. Her blue eyes are narrowed, not in anger, but in intense, clinical focus. You are her latest experiment in “unconventional strength cultivation, while the others are doing squad drills. Coordinated attack formations. Tactical—”

“Tactical nonsense,” she interrupts as if she could read your mind, waving a hand dismissively. “You think the Spade Kingdom cares about your pretty formations? They will hit you with everything they have until you break. So we won’t let you break. We will make you bend. Then we will make you bounce back and punch them in the throat.”

Her logic, as always, is irrefutable and terrifying.

“Now,” she continues, a feral grin spreading across her face, showcasing her pronounced canine. “I want you to channel your mana into your foot to keep yourself suspended. Then, use a water-creation spell to cool this spring down by precisely ten degrees. Not nine. Not eleven. Ten.”

You blink. Or try to, against the upward pull of gravity. “A brain swollen with blood is a brain too busy to doubt itself! Improvise! Adapt! Use the condensation from the steam if you must!” she roars, her voice echoing off the canyon walls. “Or would you prefer I light the tree branch on fire? That’ll give you motivation!”

You whimper. This is the “harsh training” she whisked you away for. While Leopold and the others are practicing combo moves, you are attempting precision temperature control while upside down, supervised by a woman who considers a erupting volcano a “soothing sauna.”

You take a deep breath of sulfurous air, focus on the feel of the rough bark against your ankle, and try to feel for the water mana in the dense steam. A pathetic trickle of green energy leaves your fingers, attempting to coax the vapor into a cool mist.

A jet of superheated steam shoots past your ear, singeing your hair. “WEAK!” Mereoleona bellows. “You call that trying? My left boot tries harder! Again! And this time, mean it!”

You close your eyes. You think of your squad, training in the sun. You think of the coming war. You think of how incredibly ridiculous you must look. And then, with a grunt of pure desperation, you push.

A wave of cool, fresh air washes over the spring. The bubbling slows. The oppressive heat lessens just a notch.

Silence.

You crack an eye open. Mereoleona is staring at the water, then at a small, crude thermometer she’s carved from a rock. She looks back at you, still dangling like a caught fish.

A slow, approving smile spreads across her face. It’s somehow more frightening than her scowl.

“Hah! See? Told you you had it in you!” She barks a laugh. “Now, do it again. But this time, I’m going to start throwing these hot rocks at you. For reflex training!”

As the first rock whizzes past your head, you have a single, clear thought: When you finally face the Dark Triad of the Spade Kingdom, they will be the least scary part of your day.