Heretic Trainer: The Gym Is My Cultivation Method-Chapter 416: Pride Is More Expensive Than War

Pelion folded his arms and looked at Darius with a knowing expression.

"Now I understand why you are so fixated on them," he said calmly.

Darius did not respond, but his eyes hardened slightly.

Pelion continued, pacing slowly across the hall.

His boots echoed lightly against the stone floor while the black-flamed bird behind him shifted its wings.

"God Gym is rising quickly. That alone draws attention. Many factions are already observing them."

He stopped walking and looked directly at Darius.

"And when they learn that one of their top disciples is Dahlia Draconia..."

He let the sentence hang for a second.

"Your clan, which already suffered damage to its reputation, will face more ridicule."

Darius’s jaw tightened.

Pelion gave a small shrug. "People love stories like that. A genius daughter leaves her clan, grows stronger elsewhere, and surpasses her origins."

He tilted his head slightly. "You know how the upper circles gossip."

Darius’s dragon aura flickered faintly again before he forced it down.

"So yes," Pelion said plainly. "You want them destroyed before that story spreads further."

The hall grew quiet.

"But it is not easy, Lord Darius," Pelion added.

Darius stared at him. "Then what can you do?"

He took a step forward.

"I have given you many dragons. Rare bloodlines. War-beasts that strengthened your forces."

His voice grew firmer. "What exactly are you offering in return?"

Pelion raised one hand calmly.

"I know," he said. "And we appreciate it. That is why you are considered a partner."

He smiled faintly. "And because you are a partner, I can give you two choices."

Darius’s brows lowered. "Choices?"

"Yes."

Pelion walked closer again, stopping a few steps away. The black flames around his beast dimmed slightly, as if giving space.

"You may accept one of them," Pelion said calmly. "Or reject both. That is your freedom."

Darius crossed his arms slowly. His expression hardened, and his gaze did not waver.

"Speak clearly."

Pelion nodded once. "Very well. Then let me explain."

He spoke in a steady voice, laying out the two paths without rushing.

His tone remained calm, almost casual, but the weight of what he described was heavy.

The black flames flickered faintly as he talked, rising slightly whenever he emphasized a point.

As the details unfolded, Darius’s expression shifted.

At first, he remained cold.

Then his brows tightened.

By the time Pelion finished, Darius’s jaw was visibly tense. He had not expected this. His fingers slowly tightened against his sleeves.

"You..." Darius began, then stopped.

For a brief moment, even he was caught off guard.

Pelion observed him carefully. He did not interrupt.

Darius took a slow breath and straightened his posture again.

The dragon aura around him flickered faintly, activating instinctively before he suppressed it.

A brief trace of [Dragon Sovereign Aura] cracked the stone beneath his boots before fading.

"You expect me to consider this?" Darius asked quietly.

"I expect you to think," Pelion replied. "Nothing more."

The hall fell silent again.

Pelion stepped back toward the door, giving space. His movements were unhurried and confident.

"I have given you options," he said calmly. "Not promises."

He adjusted his sleeve slightly as if this were a routine negotiation instead of a political turning point.

"Think carefully, Lord Darius."

He glanced over his shoulder one last time. His eyes were steady, no longer smiling.

"Pride often makes men choose poorly."

The black-flamed bird suddenly spread its massive wings. A wave of heat rolled through the hall before it folded them neatly again.

Pelion gave a small, casual wave.

"I’ll see you later."

His faint smile returned, controlled and measured.

"Goodbye."

The heavy doors opened and then shut behind him.

Darius remained where he stood.

His arms slowly lowered to his sides. His fingers clenched tightly, and thin cracks spread across the stone floor beneath him again.

For the first time in that conversation, he looked uncertain.

---

On Muscle God Island, the main training hall was packed with noise.

Metal weights slammed against the floor, disciples shouted counts, and the air smelled of sweat and salt from the sea breeze outside.

Dahlia stood in the center of a sparring circle with her arms crossed.

A group of new recruits stood in front of her, nervous but excited.

"Again," she said loudly. "You call that a punch? Put your waist into it."

One recruit rushed forward and threw a straight punch.

Dahlia stepped aside casually and tapped his shoulder. He lost balance and stumbled forward.

She grabbed the back of his collar before he fell flat.

"Control your center," she said firmly. "If I were an enemy, you’d already be on the ground."

She let him go and clapped once.

"Next."

Another recruit activated a weak body enhancement. Dahlia snorted.

"Don’t rely on flashy tricks. If your body isn’t strong enough, even [Muscle Burst] won’t save you."

The recruit swallowed and nodded quickly.

While she corrected their stances, Clara walked into the hall with her usual relaxed smile.

She leaned against one of the pillars and watched for a moment before calling out.

"Senior Sister Dahlia."

Dahlia didn’t turn. "What?"

Clara pushed off the pillar and walked closer, hands behind her back.

"Did you get any news from Master?"

Dahlia finally glanced at her.

"It’s been a year," Clara added. "The central island still isn’t finished. What is he even doing?"

Dahlia let out a breath through her nose.

"I don’t know," she said honestly. "You know Master is crazy sometimes."

She folded her arms again and looked at the recruits struggling through push-ups.

"But this is still outrageous."

She clicked her tongue lightly.

"It’s been a year. A whole year. And he’s still not done with whatever project he’s hiding."

Clara nodded slowly. "I see."

She tilted her head slightly. "So what are you doing after this, Sister?"

Dahlia shrugged.

"Nothing. Train like usual. Improve the recruits. Patrol rotation later."

She glanced at Clara. "What? You have something?"

Clara’s smile widened slightly. "Maybe."

She leaned closer and lowered her voice just a little. "Eliza found something."

Dahlia’s attention sharpened.

"A hidden pirate base," Clara continued. "Not far from the outer sea line."

Dahlia raised a brow. "Pirates again?"

Clara nodded. "And there’s something interesting."

Dahlia stared at her. "What?"