Heretic Trainer: The Gym Is My Cultivation Method

The flying ships slowed as they crossed into Revalis Clan territory.

Wind whipped around the decks, everyone leaning forward to see the view below.

Then...

Raviel froze.

His jaw dropped.

His hands slowly rose to his head.

"…No. No way. NO WAY!"

Below them, the entire main territory was a mess of collapsed roofs, shattered stone, melted walls, and smoking craters.

Not a single building looked untouched.

Dahlia whispered.

"…Master definitely fought here."

Arden nodded stiffly.

"Yeah… this looks exactly like Master's warm-up levels…"

Raviel staggered forward and gripped the railing so hard it bent.

"DAMN IT! I'M TOO LATE!"

He looked like he was about to fall to his knees.

Aveline placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Raviel… We were about to move our whole clan away anyway, right? So… maybe don't be too sad."

Raviel slowly turned to her with the expression of a man who just lost his entire childhood home.

"How can I NOT be sad?! Look at that! That used to be my main hall!"

They all stared at the cracked remains of what was once a majestic clan building.

Now it looked more like a charcoal pancake.

Dahlia tried to smile.

"Well… at least the ground is still there."

Arden coughed lightly.

"Yeah. Not completely blown up."

Raviel looked ready to scream.

Aveline sighed and patted his back.

"Come. Let's focus. We need to find the [Origins] before anything else."

Raviel exhaled deeply, rubbing his face.

"Right… right. [Origins] first. We can cry later."

He stepped forward, shoulders slumped, and the group followed him into what remained of the main hall.

But the moment Raviel pushed aside a half-fallen door...

"Patriarch!"

Several elders rushed forward, limping and bruised, some wrapped in makeshift bandages.

Their eyes lit up the moment they saw him.

Raviel's face softened with relief. "You guys… you're still alive."

One elder who's bleeding from his forehead but smiling stepped closer.

"Thanks to the gods, Patriarch… We thought you wouldn't make it back."

Another elder clenched his teeth in anger.

"That bastard Rakir… He did all of this!"

Raviel's expression darkened instantly.

"Rakir… that filthy traitor. Where is he?"

The elders exchanged looks. The one with the bandage raised his hand weakly.

"He's knocked out in the main hall. Sir Garion defeated him."

Raviel blinked.

"…He actually beat him?"

The elders nodded quickly.

"More than beat him, Patriarch. Sir Garion dominated the entire fight."

"He didn't even look tired."

"It wasn't even a close battle!"

Raviel opened his mouth, paused, then frowned harder.

"…If Garion could beat him easily, then why is my clan building flattened like this?"

The elders stared at him.

"Patriarch… Rakir destroyed the clan buildings. All of them."

"Sir Garion arrived after everything was already reduced to rubble."

"By the time he appeared, we were already overwhelmed."

Raviel froze.

His eyebrow twitched.

His jaw tightened.

"…Rakir did all this?"

The elders nodded again.

Raviel clenched his fists.

"That bastard…"

Aveline placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

Raviel pulled in a deep breath and straightened.

"Escort me to him."

The elders exchanged quick nods and motioned toward the inner area.

And when they entered the inner hall...

Rakir's body was embedded in the far wall, half-buried in broken stone like a smashed insect.

His arms hung limp, and only faint breath left his mouth.

Raviel's entire body trembled.

He clenched his jaw, then shot forward, slamming his foot down in front of the traitor.

"RAKIR! YOU DAMN BASTARD!"

At the shout, Rakir's eyes snapped open.

They were blurred and unfocused but still filled with hatred.

When he recognized the man standing over him, his whole face twisted in shock.

"R-Raviel?! How... how are you here?! You should have died! You..."

Raviel leaned in, eyes burning.

"Dead? You thought those two clowns... Kalzor and Agram... could kill me?"

He stepped even closer, flames rippling faintly around him.

"You think I'm that weak?!"

Rakir tried to push himself free, but a sharp pain shot through his ribs.

His body refused to move as all of his bones cracked everywhere and muscles tore.

"D-Damn it…!"

Raviel raised his hand.

A massive greatsword of swirling flame and thunder formed above his palm.

[Flaming Storm Greatsword]

The air hummed violently as the blade descended into shape.

Elders around them flinched, the heat drying their throats instantly.

Rakir's eyes widened. "W-Wait!"

Raviel's expression didn't soften at all.

"This..."

He swung the blade downward with controlled fury.

"...is for the clan you ruined!"

BOOM!

The strike slammed Rakir deeper into the wall, stone exploding outward.

Rakir's scream filled the hall.

"GAAAHH! Damn you, Raviel! This clan... this clan should be MINE!"

Raviel stepped closer, grabbing Rakir by the front of his torn robes and pulling him forward so their faces were only inches apart.

"This clan was never yours. You just poisoned it."

Rakir's limbs trembled violently as he tried to spit back.

"It belongs to the strongest..."

"And that sure as hell isn't you," Raviel growled.

Dahlia whispered to Arden.

"Wow… Patriarch Raviel looks really scary."

Arden nodded quietly.

"I'm not getting near him for… at least a week."

Aveline sighed softly and crossed her arms.

"Rakir deserves it."

Raviel raised his sword again, preparing the final strike.

"Rakir… this is the price of betraying your clan."

Rakir's eyes widened in fear, his voice cracking...

"Raviel, WAIT!"

But Raviel didn't stop and swung his sword toward him.

The strike landed clean, splitting the stone beneath Rakir and silencing his voice in an instant.

For a moment, everything went still.

Rakir's body slumped forward, blood dripping from his trembling lips as he forced out one last, broken curse.

"R-Raviel… you'll… pay for this…"

His head dropped. His body went limp.

And the traitor of the Revalis Clan breathed his final breath.

Raviel exhaled slowly, lowering his blade as the flames faded.

His shoulders shook... not from regret, but from the weight finally lifting off him.

Behind him, the elders knelt, relief washing over their battered faces.