I Conquer Hell and Heaven With 666 Trillion Coins

Dean tightened his grip around the Spear of Dawn as he faced Percival once more. Sweat clung to his forehead, and his breathing had yet to fully settle from the previous exchange.

Across from him, Percival stood in the same relaxed posture as always, his ghostly form calm and composed. There was no arrogance in his expression, only quiet patience.

"Again, Master."

Dean nodded without hesitation. "Again."

The instant the words left his mouth, he lunged forward. The spear shot toward Percival’s chest with considerably more confidence than before, its golden aura cutting through the air.

Percival did not retreat.

Instead, he met the attack with a precise movement of his sword, redirecting the spear just enough for its tip to miss him by inches. Before Dean could recover, Percival stepped inside the spear’s reach and lightly struck Dean’s shoulder with the flat of his blade.

The impact wasn’t particularly powerful.

The timing was.

Dean lost his balance almost immediately and stumbled onto one knee before rolling onto his side.

"Too committed," Percival said calmly, lowering his sword. "If your first thrust misses, you leave yourself no room to recover."

Dean exhaled through clenched teeth before climbing back to his feet. He brushed the dust from his clothes and spun the spear once in his hand.

"I’ll remember."

"I know you will."

Dean attacked again, this time more cautiously. Rather than committing everything to a single thrust, he followed it with a quick sweep aimed at Percival’s legs. Percival simply stepped over the shaft with remarkable precision before tapping the side of Dean’s spear.

Only a tap.

Yet it shifted the weapon just enough to throw Dean’s rhythm apart.

Percival immediately placed a foot behind Dean’s ankle and gave him a gentle push against the shoulder.

Dean hit the ground again.

"Damn it!"

He stared at the sky for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.

"I didn’t even see that."

"You were watching my sword."

Percival extended a hand.

"You should also watch my feet. I told you. You already know this. Still, you are slow at changing your thoughts. Although you are very smart, there are still things to improve."

Dean accepted the hand without complaint and stood once more.

The next exchange lasted longer.

Dean kept his stance lower, remembering Percival’s advice. His thrusts became shorter, forcing himself to recover after each strike instead of overextending.

Percival noticed the adjustment immediately. Every attack was answered with the smallest possible movement, never wasting unnecessary energy.

Steel rang across the training ground again and again.

"Clang."

"Clang."

Dean was beginning to recognise something.

Percival wasn’t defeating his strength. He was defeating his mistakes.

Every time Dean made one, Percival punished it before another heartbeat could pass.

Dean thrust.

He blocked, swept, deflected.

He reversed his grip, spinning the spear into another strike that forced Percival to lean backwards for the first time during the duel.

A faint smile appeared on the ghost’s face.

"Better."

Dean pressed forward, encouraged by the reaction. His attacks flowed more naturally now, each movement connecting into the next instead of stopping between strikes.

For several seconds, Percival remained entirely on the defensive, allowing Dean to maintain the initiative.

Then Dean made one tiny mistake.

His rear foot slid half a step farther than it should have.

Percival saw it immediately.

A quick twist of the sword guided the spear harmlessly aside. At the same time, Percival’s free hand caught Dean’s wrist while his shoulder nudged against Dean’s chest.

Dean’s feet left the ground.

A moment later he landed flat on his back with a heavy thud.

He groaned as he stared upward. Although his body improved and got stronger, this still hurt like crazy.

"Again?" he muttered.

Percival looked down at him.

"You corrected your first mistake."

Dean sighed.

"And created another."

"You advanced, THAT is what’s important, master."

Dean smiled despite the ache spreading through his back.

"I suppose that’s progress."

"It is."

Dean accepted Percival’s hand again before returning to his stance. This time he did not rush.

He circled slowly, adjusting the distance between them. The spear no longer felt like a weapon he was simply carrying. Little by little, it was beginning to move with him instead of against him.

Percival waited.

Dean struck.

The first thrust was stopped, the second was redirected, the third forced Percival to take a single step backwards.

Dean noticed it immediately.

His eyes brightened.

"I made you move."

"You did. Without any Holy Power at that, too."

For the first time since the duel had begun, there was unmistakable approval in Percival’s voice.

Dean didn’t let the opportunity distract him. Instead of chasing recklessly, he slowed himself down and repeated the same combination with cleaner footwork.

Percival parried each strike, but this time Dean recovered his stance before Percival could counterattack.

Another exchange.

And another one after that.

The rhythm gradually shifted.

Dean was still losing every trade, but he was no longer being thrown aside after every mistake. His footing remained steadier. His grip relaxed. His spear no longer wobbled after each block.

Percival gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

"Your spear is finally becoming part of your body."

Dean couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face.

"I was wondering when you’d finally compliment me."

"I did not compliment you."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

Percival calmly lifted his sword once more.

"I merely acknowledged your improvement."

Before Dean could answer, Percival stepped forward with noticeably greater speed than before. Dean reacted on instinct, bringing the Spear of Dawn across his body just in time to intercept the incoming strike.

Steel collided with steel, the impact echoing throughout the training ground. Dean held his ground for a heartbeat before Percival shifted his angle, forcing him to retreat a single step.

Neither of them spoke.

Dean adjusted his grip and Percival lowered his stance.

Then, without another word, they charged at each other once again.

Dean could see that Percival was LITERALLY leaving siluets before him, and that was happening whenever he moved.

He was curious, actually didn’t understand what was going on.

Percival was fast and good with using his mana. And since he was a ghost, he needed to use his mana in the tiniest way to stay out of Dean’s soul; he was using it in this duel too.

That meant...Although he is going VERY easy on Dean, he still was using his powers.

That made Dean happy and at the same time more curious.

He needed to ask.

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