God Of Crafting

"Okay then, I think that settles it," Claire suddenly announced in a voice loud enough to make it clear it wasn't just her disciple that she aimed those words for.

"Hmm?" I turned my eyes toward Claire's mom, quite curious about what kind of new idea she had for her voice to sound so excited.

"It doesn't make sense for any of my men to risk their health just to help you test the limits of their strength," Leila stated, shaking her head as if she were admitting to her own faults. "I didn't expect it to be the case, but it seems they are too weak to properly serve this purpose. And so," she paused for a second only to place a huge, vibrant smile on her face, "I will be your target."

"Hell no."

It didn't matter whether Claire's mom genuinely wanted to help me or if she was trying to progress some sort of scheme.

"It was already a stretch to have me punch a woman, practitioner or not. But to strike at my woman's mother?" I asked, squinting my eyes only to then let go of Claire's hand just so I could cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. "There's absolutely no way in hell."

This wasn't up for discussion.

Not because I feared that someone would somehow record it and then use it as evidence to slaughter my name and sully my reputation. Not even because I disliked the very idea of striking a woman, even if it was just a friendly spar.

Leila, for better or worse and regardless of her true intentions, was Claire's mother. That meant, for me at the very least, that unless she openly tried to do Claire, Chihiro, or me personal harm, I considered her to be untouchable.

"Do you really think you can punch hard enough, even with all of your cultivation, to pass my guard?" Leila mirrored my stance as she crossed her own arms over her chest, raising her left eyebrow while lowering its right twin.

Right now, all she had to do was dig the heel of her left foot into the ground, only to then tap the ground with said foot to become the picture of an impatient parent waiting for the children to understand just how much they've messed up.

"Whether or not I could do it doesn't matter," I shook my head, refusing to let Leila's stance get to me. "You are the mother of my woman," I stated, relaxing my hands from my chest only to grab Claire by her arm and then tug her closer to my side, as if her presence could only solidify my point, "and unless you try to harm me or her directly, that makes you untouchable. Friendly spar or not."@@novelbin@@

This was one of the few things I was unwilling to compromise on. Yet, that also meant we found ourselves in quite the stalemate, with the only possible way Leila found to figure out the limits of my strength not turning out to be either impractical, too costly, or outright impossible to make happen.

"Guys, you are really missing out on a simple solution."

Despite serving as but a prop to make my point clearer just a moment ago, Claire now spoke out, digging her elbow into my side while giving her mother a somewhat disappointed look.

"And what could that be?" Leila quickly interjected, quickly getting over the surprise of seeing her daughter actively inject herself into the conversation. "Don't forget that any solution that involves anything beyond the limits of this barrier would not be practical," she quickly added while spreading her arms open as if to point at the stormy winds that separated the training field from the rest of the world. "What would be the point of learning the limits of your boyfriend's strength on the low-key if everyone ended up learning about it anyway?"

This time, Claire squinted her eyes while also squeezing down hard on my hand. Contrary to her jab from just before, however, it was her trying to suppress her emotions rather than scold me for something.

"He's my fiancé, not boyfriend," Claire started with a clarification, only to squeeze down on my hand even stronger than she did before. "As for the method, it's quite simple," she then shrugged her shoulders before letting go of my hand and stepping forward. "My cultivation is pretty much the same as Tim's, but I've never really trained a single move as hard as he did," she stated, only to then cross her arms over her chest as she squinted her eyes to lock them right on her mother's face. "Nor do I have anything against accepting your help in lieu of a target."

'Oh?'

Only with the utmost effort did I manage to hold myself back from smiling.

This indeed was something I didn't think about. Yet, while it was most certainly true that our cultivations were pretty much on the same level, given the nature of our bond and how Claire never really trained a single move as hard or for as long as I did with my punch…

She was someone who actually trained in the arts of cultivation, which included both the arts of using the spiritual energy and the methods of infusing it into one's own martial arts.

That, all in its own right, made her actually quite a bit more dangerous to an average opponent than me, even if she lacked the singular attack that could reach the same prowess as my punch.

"That's…" At first, Leila was so taken aback she literally retreated a step. Yet, when faced with the determined look in her daughter's eyes… Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire

"That's actually a good idea," she stated, conquering the very same step that she had just retreated, only to cross her arms over her chest as she defiantly looked back right into Claire's eyes. "So," she spoke, only to suddenly explode her cultivation, filling the whole area with enough pressure to actually make it difficult for me to breathe, "how do you want to test your limits, dear?"

Even with all of this pressure, however, Claire didn't buckle.

Instead, she simply raised her hand and then pushed a streak of her hair out of her face, as if making sure there was nothing to obscure her view of her target—her very own mother.

'What does she hold against her,' I thought to myself, taken aback by the sheer amount of joy in Claire's eyes and soul I could feel through our bond when it finally came the time for those two to confront each other. 'Could it be... is she angry about those plans to marry her off just to bring her over to this part of the world? Or maybe...'

I gulped my saliva down.

'Or maybe there's something else that sours their relationship?'

This question, however, would remain unanswered for the time being, for rather than solving their conflict through words, Claire was clearly much more interested in letting her fist do the speaking.

"Just the way it was happening before," she stated with a smile as she lowered her hand and then shook them a little to warm her arms up before the exercise. "I will throw a series of strikes, infusing each successive one with more and more of my spirituality, all the way to the point where I either reach the limit of how heavily I can punch out," she paused for a second only for the look of determination in her eyes to give way to the look of strangely vile excitement, "or you reach the limit of what you can defend against and surrender!"