Battle Of Planets
Chapter 72: Aggressive Training

Chapter 72: Aggressive Training

Max observed Edward quietly, taking a long pause now that they were the only two left on the call.

"You never stretch things without a reason, Edward," he finally said. "What are you thinking about?"

Edward exhaled. "It’s a family matter."

For a brief moment, something glimmered in Max’s eyes.

He straightened. "Then I won’t say anything more. I have no right to interfere..." He hesitated, then added, "I just hope you make the right choices—as a leader."

Edward met his gaze. "I will make my decisions as a father." His voice was steady. "And when the time comes... I will be a leader."

Max watched as the young man he had once known had been replaced by someone sharpened by time, war, and experience. But those marks carried wisdom.

Edward hadn’t simply aged. He had transformed into someone who, perhaps, understood the world even better than Max himself.

The screen went dark, leaving Max alone in the soft light of his office. A quiet sigh escaped him.

"If only I had a leader like you during that tournament..."

----

"Sergeant! Let’s stop here," the technician exclaimed, observing Tyson get ready to enter the simulation for the fourth time that day.

"I’m not tired yet," Tyson stated flatly.

"Your body won’t tire," the man explained. "But you should be aware of mental fatigue. I can see it—you’re worn out inside."

Tyson barely acknowledged him. "Just do what I say," he muttered before lying down and shutting his eyes.

He was tired, but he still chose to train because, at that moment, there was nothing else to do.

No one was waiting for him. No one was searching for him. All he had was this. If this was what everyone expected him to be—a Ranger—then that’s precisely who he would become—a solitary ranger dedicated solely to this duty.

Lieutenant Marsh stood at a distance, silently observing the scene unfold. He had been assigned to monitor Tyson for any signs of aggression or instability. If Tyson displayed any hint of losing control, Marsh’s responsibility was to intervene and calm him down.

However, what he attended was something completely different.

Tyson’s anger was unmistakable. His heartbreak had created a tumult within, yet rather than expressing it outwardly; he channeled it into his training—driving himself to new, nearly reckless heights.

"The last time he went berserk, the General had to step in personally to contain the chaos," the bald Lieutenant muttered. "But now... it seems he’s using it to his advantage."

Marsh exhaled. "I hope you’re right," he said. "Sometimes, he frightens me more than anything else."

The bald lieutenant raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Marsh kept his gaze locked on Tyson. "Have you seen him fight?" he asked. "I have—up close. His courage, his ability to adapt on the battlefield... I’ve never seen anything like it. If it weren’t for his low power points, he’d be stronger than Alex."

The bald lieutenant chuckled. "Yeah... I’d say that’s exactly why I told my son to follow him." He smirked. "And Ken? He’s different now, Marsh. He’s not the troubled kid he used to be. He’s thinking before he acts and taking his steps wisely."

Marsh finally smiled. "That’s good to hear."

Tyson moved like a storm within the simulation grounds, leaping through the air as his blade sliced through the sand golems. He was reckless—deliberately reckless. But not because he was trying to break Alex’s records. Not because he wanted to prove himself as he always had in the past. No. This time, he wasn’t seeking validation. He was pursuing clarity.

He pushed himself harder, not to outshine anyone, but to erase the helplessness he had felt before. The moment when he failed to protect the President still haunted him. That failure was a wound, a reminder that no matter how strong he believed he was, he wasn’t strong enough yet.

Now, he fully understood his duty. More importantly, he recognized his limits.

This wasn’t the same Tyson who once sat in the Academy, indifferent to his responsibilities—the one who had tried to distance himself from the burden of expectations. No—he had changed.

He finally understood the difference between a Ranger and a Rogue.

They weren’t all that different. Both were warriors, fighters, and survivors. However, what distinguished them wasn’t their strength; it was their sense of duty.

Rogues lived as Tyson had once desired—free and unshackled, steering clear of burdens too heavy to bear. They ran from responsibility, not out of weakness, but by choice.

But the Rangers? The Rangers accepted it. No matter how much it hurt or how much it changed them. Even when it crushed them under its weight.

Tyson cut through another golem, breathing steadily despite the fatigue creeping into his muscles. He wasn’t merely training anymore.

He was changing because he refused to fail again.

"Congratulations," the technician said with a nervous smile. "Y-You finally broke Alex’s record."

Highest Score: Tyson – 7.11 minutes.

Tyson hardly reacted. A sharp pain throbbed in his head—he wasn’t sure if it stemmed from pushing himself too far or from the other ache, the one still buried deep inside him. The one that refused to fade... Nancy’s voice continued to ring in his ears and in his mind.

She loved another person. She always loved another person.

He was merely a third wheel... a Character in a story never intended to be his.

But then—what about all that they shared?

What did he feel? What did they think? Was it all a lie? Her eyes, smile, touch, kiss— Was any of it ever real?

He disregarded the flashing timer on the screen and sank onto the floor as the pain intensified.

"You need to take a break," the technician urged. "You should go home."

He powered down the pod without waiting for Tyson’s response.

The doors slid open, and Lieutenant Marsh entered. His keen gaze flickered between Tyson and the worried technician.

"He’s going home," Marsh said firmly, nodding at the technician in silent gratitude.

Tyson tightened his fists. "I-I can still keep going."

"No," Marsh said, his voice tolerating no argument. "That’s an order."

Tyson gritted his teeth, frustration clawing at him. But as he forced himself to stand, his body betrayed him—his muscles ached, his head throbbed, and his sweat-drenched black hair stuck to his forehead.

He was finished. For the moment.

Tyson left headquarters as the evening sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the streets. His mind was a storm—thoughts clashed, pulling him in various directions.

Nancy’s sudden breakup still felt like an open wound. No matter what she said, he knew there was something he had missed—something just beyond his reach. But there was no way to find out unless he talked to her. And right now, that seemed impossible.

He sat on a bench by the street, watching people pass by, absorbed in their own lives. In the distance, a massive billboard of Seraphina loomed over the city skyline.

Despite everything she had going on, she still came to check on him and see how he was holding up after his breakup. She had big sister energy, even if Alex didn’t show much big brother energy.

"I’m fine," he murmured as if repeating it would make it accurate.

He shook off thoughts of Nancy and let his mind drift back to Victor’s Diary. The method he had discovered—it could transform everything.

Blue had warned him. If this knowledge fell into the wrong hands, the consequences would be catastrophic. The power-hungry would seize it, war would erupt, and the balance of power could be shattered.

However, if he didn’t use it...

The impending threat of the Tournament is unbearable. Humanity’s survival hangs in the balance.

He had to make a choice.

Reveal the method and let the world determine its fate. Or conceal it—just as Victor did—and bear the burden of that secret alone...

Why did Victor choose to hide the method? Why did he never reveal it? Was he afraid that the wrong person might take credit for his work and leave others behind? Was that even a possibility? Why would anyone do such a thing?

---

Seraphina sat on the couch, her gaze steady as Nancy sat across from her. The silence between them was heavy, with unspoken words lingering in the air.

Lucy, Seraphina’s secretary, hovered nearby, unsure what to say—or whether she should say anything. It was a family matter, which meant she had no place in the conversation. However, since they were still inside the President’s office, she couldn’t exactly leave either.

Who knows? They could ask for a third cup of coffee at any moment...

Seraphina finally broke the silence. "I understand your situation, Nancy; I really do. But are you certain there’s no other way?" Her voice was calm yet firm. "He’s in a tough spot right now."

Nancy bit her lip and lowered her gaze. "I-I know... but I have to do this. If I don’t—he’ll get hurt."

"By lying?" Seraphina pressed. "By saying you love someone you haven’t even met?"

Nancy flinched.