"Yeah, no. Let's not invite them over," I said immediately, waving my hands like I could physically swat away the very idea. There was no way I was letting those five lunatics loose in my home—in front of my parents, no less.
If just one of them got the chance to start talking, it would be over for me.
"Aw," my mother pouted playfully, but the amused glint in her eyes told me she wasn't even a little disappointed. She was enjoying this. "But I hope to meet them one day."
I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. Why was she grinning like that?
Before I could dig into whatever thoughts she was having, my father cleared his throat, his voice dropping into a more serious tone.
"For now, I have some important matters to discuss," he said, and just like that, the atmosphere at the dinner table shifted.
He turned to my mother first. "I'm sure you've heard the news about the North Gate, Eleanor. And you too, Sera. Your school must have informed you."
My mother nodded, her usual lighthearted demeanor cooling into something more composed. "Yes. Recently, we've received a few letters detailing the situation."
My grip tightened slightly on my fork. "My school talked about it too," I said, taking another bite of the absurdly good meal my mother had made. "That's why they're giving us a week off—to upgrade the security over there."
"That's good," my father said, nodding. He took a long breath before speaking again. "But I might have to head to the North Gate soon. The situation is getting worse by the day."
A small pause settled over the room. My mother reached out, gently caressing his hand, and he squeezed hers in return.
Then, my father turned to me. His gaze was firm, steady—like he had already made a decision long before this conversation even began.
"I think it's time."
I blinked. "For… what, exactly?"
His expression didn't change. "Your mother and I will train you in case something happens."
I stared at him.
What.
"So, for the week that I'm here," he continued, "your mother and I will teach you."
What.
"You're going to have to be a little more specific," I said, setting my utensils down because there was no way I could focus on eating anymore.
My father leaned back slightly, watching me carefully. "Your mother will teach you ice magic and long-range weapons—bows, mostly. And I'll be teaching you fire magic and close-range combat—swords and daggers."
I blinked again.
I opened my mouth—closed it—opened it again.
"…Sorry, I think I misheard you," I said, because clearly, I had to be hallucinating. "Did you just say you're going to train me in magic and weapons?"
"That's right," he confirmed easily, as if he had just suggested taking a casual stroll in the garden.
My mother, meanwhile, looked delighted.
"It'll be fun!" she said, smiling. "And it'll be useful, you know? A lady should always be able to protect herself."
I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands.
Fun, she says. Fun.
My mother, Eleanor Vandren, one of the most proficient ice magic users in the country. My father, Duke Vandren, a renowned warrior and fire magic specialist.
And now, they wanted to train me.
This was going to be hell.
But… wasn't this also an opportunity?
The memories of the original Sera Vandren—her magic, her talent—had all been self-taught. She hadn't been trained by my mother or father. She had forced herself to learn, to grow, to master her abilities through sheer willpower and relentless effort.
So… what if I combined her knowledge with what my parents were about to teach me?
What if I took her raw, untamed strength and refined it with actual technique?
I could be strong.
Stronger than the original Sera. Stronger than I ever imagined myself to be.
My father clapped his hands together, his grin wide and far too enthusiastic for my liking.
"And what better time to get started than right now?"
Oh no.
"Right now?" I repeated, suddenly feeling a lot less sure about my grand plan.
"Right now," Duke confirmed, already standing up from his chair.
I glanced toward my mother, hoping she would be the reasonable one.
She simply smiled. "I'll teach you later, Sera. Your father gets to go first."
Of course he does.
I groaned, but there was no escaping now. My father was already heading toward the training grounds.
"Come on, Sera!" he called over his shoulder. "Let's see what you've got!"
What have I just signed myself up for?
With a deep sigh, I pushed myself away from the table, mentally preparing for my inevitable doom.
"At least let me digest my food first!" I grumbled, trailing after my father as he led me toward the Vandren estate's expansive training grounds.
"Battle waits for no one, Sera!" Duke declared, clapping me on the back with far too much enthusiasm.
Easy for him to say.
The training grounds were exactly as I remembered them from the novel—a vast, open space lined with weapon racks, dummies, and enchanted barriers for magical combat. A place meant for warriors, not book-reading transmigrators who wanted to live a peaceful life.
"Alright," my father said, rolling up his sleeves as he turned to face me. "Since this is your first official training session, we'll start with something simple—"
Simple. Ha.
"—dodging."
I blinked. "Dodging?"
He smirked.
Why did that smirk make me nervous?
"Yes. Dodging," he said, stepping over to the weapon rack and plucking a practice sword from its slot. "Because if you can't avoid getting hit, then all the magic and weapons in the world won't save you."
"...I don't like where this is going."
"You shouldn't," he replied cheerfully. Then, without warning—
He swung.
I barely had time to react, instinct taking over as I threw myself backward. The blade whooshed through the air, missing me by mere inches.
"WHAT THE HELL?! WARN ME FIRST!" I shouted.
"Did you think an enemy would give you a warning?" Duke grinned, twirling the sword effortlessly in his grip.
Oh, I was going to die.
I barely had a second to breathe before he lunged again, a blur of movement that sent my instincts into overdrive. I dove to the side, rolling to regain my footing.
"Not bad!" my father called. "But you're hesitating! You need to trust your body—move before you think!"
Move before I think? That's easy for a trained swordsman to say!
My heart pounded as he came at me again. This time, instead of blindly dodging, I focused. Anticipate. Predict. React.
I took a step back, letting his swing pass harmlessly in front of me. But instead of retreating again, I moved forward, ducking low beneath the next strike.
There! I did it!
For exactly two seconds.
Then, a sudden burst of heat surrounded me.
Fire magic.
He's using FIRE MAGIC?!
"YOU SAID DODGING, NOT SURVIVING AN EXECUTION!" I screeched, leaping back as a wave of flames surged toward me.
My father just laughed. "Lesson two—adapt."
"THIS ISN'T TRAINING! THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER!"
"Then stop complaining and dodge!"
I cursed under my breath, pushing my own magic forward instinctively. Fire burned at my fingertips, flickering against the wave of his attack.
And then, without even thinking—
I countered.
[Flame Burst]
A concentrated pulse of fire erupted from my palms, colliding with his flames midair. The explosion of heat sent a shockwave through the training grounds, kicking up dust and forcing us both back.
Silence.
Then—
"Now that was impressive," Duke mused, brushing soot off his sleeve.
I blinked, still reeling from what just happened. I did that?
The magic had flowed so easily—like I'd always known how to use it. Was this Sera's talent? Her knowledge mixing with my own?
My father studied me, nodding approvingly. "Looks like we've got a lot more potential to unlock."
I groaned, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Do I get a break now?"
He grinned. "Not yet."
Oh, for the love of—
Before I could complain further, a familiar voice called out from the sidelines.
"My, my, Duke. You really don't hold back, do you?"
I turned—and froze.
My mother stood there, her usual gentle smile in place, but her gaze sharper than I'd ever seen before.
And in her hands?
An elegant, crystalline bow, glowing faintly with ice magic.
"Don't wear her out too much, dear," Eleanor said sweetly, drawing an arrow of pure frost. "She still has her lesson with me."
Lightning, strike me now please!
"Now, let's incorporate some weapons," Duke said, holding up two wooden training weapons—a sleek dagger in one hand and a sturdy sword in the other. "What'll it be?"
I eyed both options carefully. The sword was tempting, but it looked heavier than I was comfortable with. Meanwhile, the dagger was smaller, lighter—faster.
Speed over power, right?
"The dagger," I said, pointing to it.
Duke's grin widened as he tossed it toward me. I caught it—barely. Still needed to work on that.
"Good choice," he said, rolling his shoulders. "With a dagger, you rely on speed, precision, and adaptability. A blade like that isn't meant for brute force—you'll need to be quick, sharp, and always one step ahead of your opponent."
I swallowed, turning the dagger over in my hands. "Okay. Got it."
"Great," he said, then stepped back, spreading his arms like he was welcoming an attack. "Now come at me."
I choked.
"What?"
"You heard me," Duke said, smirking. "Show me what you've got. I'll teach you as we go."
Was this normal for a father-daughter bonding session? No warm-up drills? No footwork practice? Just straight into combat like this was some kind of battlefield initiation?
Still, I wasn't about to back down. I took a deep breath, adjusted my grip on the dagger, and charged.
I moved fast, aiming for his side—quick, sharp, precise. But just as I was about to land a hit—
He vanished.
Or, well, it felt like he vanished. In reality, he'd just moved so fast that by the time I realized it, he was already behind me.
I barely had time to react before—
THWACK.
Something tapped—not slammed, not stabbed, tapped—against my side.
I froze.
Duke's voice was full of amusement. "Dead."
"Are you serious?!" I spun around, scowling. "How are you so fast?!"
His eyes gleamed. "Experience."
Oh, I hate you, I thought.
"Again," he said, stepping back into place. "And this time, anticipate your opponent's movement. If you telegraph your attacks too much, you'll get outmaneuvered every time."
I grit my teeth, gripping the dagger tighter. Fine. If that's how we're playing, then I'll learn the hard way.
I exhaled, focusing. Predict. Anticipate.
This time, instead of rushing in blindly, I feinted—moving one way before suddenly switching direction mid-step.
Duke raised a brow, clearly impressed, but he still dodged effortlessly. However—this time, I was ready.
[Flame Step]
The moment he sidestepped, I burst forward with a controlled flicker of fire under my feet, closing the distance in an instant. His eyes widened slightly—just before my dagger almost actually landed.
But before I could fully celebrate—
THWACK.
The wooden blade of his sword pressed against my throat.
Damn it.
Duke grinned. "Better. But still dead."
I groaned, stepping back. "This feels impossible."
"It's not," he said. "You're getting there. Your speed is good, and you're instinctively starting to use magic to your advantage. But you need more control. Magic and weapons are tools, Sera—you need to use both together, not separately."
I nodded, catching my breath. I could do this.
Duke grinned, resting his sword on his shoulder. "One more round before we move on?"
"Wait, we're moving on?"
He laughed. "You didn't think this was the only thing I was teaching you today, did you?"
Oh, for the love of—
"Alright," I muttered, rolling my shoulders. "One more round."
"That's the spirit."
And just like that, we began again.
I was going to die before the week was even over.