Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 255: Which Does Not Kill You Makes You Stronger

Chapter 255: Which Does Not Kill You Makes You Stronger

Lightning crisscrossed around Eleanor and speared into her body, racing straight for her heart. The arcs tore through muscle and sinew, burning a path as they went, but her alpha body regenerated the damage as quickly as it appeared. Time passed, and her regeneration gradually accelerated until it matched the level of destruction. Once her body had adjusted, the pain dulled, no longer the unbearable torment it had been.

Her heart, meanwhile, was changing. With every surge it absorbed, it grew stronger. Nora confirmed what Eleanor already suspected: because of her Storm Heart ability, the lightning was drawn directly to that centre of power. Slowly but inexorably, Storm Heart strengthened, each pulse making her body more resilient and more attuned to the tempest around her.

At first Nora remained with her, offering quiet guidance, but as the lightning intensified... she withdrew. The storm was disrupting her interface, making her presence unstable.

Alone, Eleanor lost all sense of time. Her progress became a rhythm: step forward, sit, meditate, adapt. When her body had adjusted to the violence of a new zone, she rose again, took another step, and endured anew.

The first surge of joy had come when she entered the light green ring. After that, all emotion vanished into singular focus. She never looked back, never glanced at the coloured rings she crossed. Her gaze was locked only on the centre of the dome, on the Thunder Seed that called to her.

With unyielding determination, step by step, she advanced towards her only goal.

What she did not realise was that, in the process, she had awakened her Mental Lock ability. She had always believed this gift was meant for the battlefield. But under the relentless barrage, her Thunderbolt Bloodline was evolving, reshaping itself to her need. Mental Lock transformed, granting her the power to maintain razor focus even amidst the endless distraction of pain.

***

Eleanor was deep in meditation, letting her body adjust to the relentless lightning, when the academy device on her wrist began to beep. Her focus wavered. She knew at once... her time in the Thunder Seed Room had ended.

The handbook had been clear: when a cadet’s slot expired, the device would sound, and they were required to leave so the next candidate could enter.

She rose to her feet and glanced at her position. Disappointment settled in her chest. She had only reached the yellow zone. The black zone... her true target remained far beyond her grasp.

"I should have forced myself further. Sigh... what’s done is done. Let’s see what Scáthach thinks of my progress," she thought.

pace, donned her uniform, and made her way back to the

he saw her, his eyes lit up

bowed. "Instructor, you

go. The Supreme Grandmaster is waiting for you," he said, before leading her out of the Lightning

Combat Department to Dún Scáith. In the throne

entered and seated herself upon her throne. She regarded Eleanor with a faint smile. "You seem dispirited. How far did you reach

gaze, embarrassment tightening her voice. "I only reached the yellow zone. I could have gone farther, but

had only just awakened her Thunderbolt Bloodline, and yet... even seasoned lightning adepts, even of

"You have only just awakened your Thunderbolt Bloodline, so I will reluctantly accept your progress...

she called, her voice

Annabeth Chase entered

to the training grounds. You will train her, for now. And remember...

highly intelligent, and a strategist of the highest order. In tactics, she could rival even your Mind Reaver

bowed respectfully. "Thank

laughed. "I have not accepted you as my disciple. If you had touched the Thunder Seed, then I might have considered it. For

to Arrichion. "You may go now. Return tomorrow. If Eleanor fails,

glowing circle flared into existence beneath Eleanor and Annabeth’s feet,

She turned slowly, taking in the towering walls and endless rows of stone seats. A tremor of awe coursed through her. In that moment, she felt not like a cadet, but like an ancient warrior summoned to the arena for a

tone colder than the drifting snow. "You must defend yourself. Do so with defensive techniques, or by going on the attack. You may use any of your abilities, the terrain, or a weapon. As the Empress commanded, I will restrict myself to

defend yourself." She drove a punch straight at

screamed danger. She lunged aside at the last instant. The fist never touched her, but the shockwave alone caught her like a hammer, hurling her several metres through the

hard, then scrambled to her feet. Annabeth gave her no time to recover. Another punch came, faster than the last. Eleanor crossed her arms before her chest in a desperate guard. The impact launched her skyward again, pain flaring across