Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby novel Chapter 285

Chapter 285: Post Fight Analysis

While the Kingdom was absorbed in the fever of the upcoming election and Heimdall Technologies pursued its vast global expansion, Eleanor was once again summoned to Dún Scáith.

This time, however, the Supreme Grandmaster Scáthach was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Vanguard Commander Annabeth Chase awaited her at the castle’s gate, her presence as composed and intimidating as ever. Instructor Arrichion, after escorting Eleanor, bowed lightly and departed without a word.

Eleanor stepped forward, bowing before her mentor. "Greetings, Master Chase."

Annabeth waved her hand dismissively. "No need for such formalities. Follow me."

Eleanor obeyed, her boots echoing softly on the stone floor as they entered the heart of the fortress. The corridors were quieter, lit by the dim glow of sunlight that reflected against the ancient walls. Eventually, they reached a room unlike most in Dún Scáith... a spacious chamber that could easily be mistaken for an entertainment suite.

A massive monitor, easily over a hundred inches, dominated one wall. Two high-end desktop computers sat to the side, humming faintly. Several leather sofas were arranged opposite the screen, giving the room the air of a private theatre.

Annabeth moved towards one of the computers and sat down. "Bring another chair and sit beside me."

Eleanor did as instructed, drawing a chair closer before sitting at her side.

Annabeth opened a file and pressed play. A video filled the screen... footage from Eleanor’s first match of the Grand Competition, her bout against Igor Semenov.

"You were completely relaxed at the start," Annabeth said, her tone even but edged with critique. "Look... you’re in the ring during the countdown, no stance, no tension, no readiness. Confidence is good. Arrogance is fatal. What did I teach you?"

Eleanor lowered her gaze slightly. "Never take any opponent for granted. Even the weakest one can surprise you."

Annabeth nodded. "Exactly. In combat, life and death are divided by a hair’s breadth. One careless breath... one heartbeat... can tip you to the other side."

Eleanor’s eyes remained fixed on the frozen frame of herself on the screen, standing almost lazily opposite Igor’s coiled posture. "I understand, Master."

"Good."

Annabeth clicked play again. The recording moved through the opening seconds... Igor’s first volley of ice shards and Eleanor’s swift, fluid evasions.

Then she paused the video just as Eleanor chopped aside the third shard. "There," Annabeth said. "Why deflect it? You’d already read the wobble, gauged the velocity, the mass. A simple tilt of your head would have been enough to let it pass harmlessly."

She turned her eyes to Eleanor. "You met it instead. That choice wasn’t tactical... it was emotional. You wanted to test him. To feel his strength. But by doing that, you gave him information. He learned your reflex speed, your resilience, your confidence in close engagement. And he adjusted. His next pattern shifted from direct assault to area control. You let him adapt."

Eleanor inhaled quietly, nodding once. "Understood. I’ll correct that."

Annabeth leaned back slightly, her gaze still on the frozen screen. "Good. Because that single moment... that unnecessary display is the kind of thing that decides who lives to learn from a battle... and who doesn’t."

She let the video play, through Igor’s shield and the volleys that boxed Eleanor in. "Here. You were purely reactive. You allowed him to set the tempo and the terms of the engagement. You became a spectator in your own fight, waiting for his next move so you could counter it. Why did you not press the attack after the first evasion? He was open for half a second after that third shard. A lunge would have forced him onto the defensive."

"I was assessing his patterns," Eleanor said, her voice respectful.

Annabeth paused the video on a frame where an arrow grazed Eleanor’s shoulder. "You accepted hits. You calculated they were non-lethal and pressed on. This is a critical failure in judgement. What if one of those arrows had been enchanted with a paralysis toxin? What if the next had been a sonic-disruption shot? You assumed her arsenal was purely physical projectile weaponry. Against an unknown, that assumption could have been a death sentence. You have enhanced regeneration and pain tolerance... not immunity."

She continued, "In the end, you activated Mental Lock, Mind Acceleration, Voltaic Strikes, Bloodlust Instinct, and Killing Precision... all to defeat a single, flustered archer who was already psychologically broken. You have to pay close attention to your opponent." She pointed at Alina’s face. "Look at her. She was already defeated. You didn’t need so much firepower to finish her. It was overkill... and worse, it was predictable."

She looked at Eleanor. "You ended your first match in the same way. What do you think others will do after seeing this? They’ll know that when faced with pressure, Eleanor defaults to a single, overwhelming, linear charge. She relies on her unique mental focus and her lightning to solve complex problems. Others will devise countermeasures for that exact sequence."

Eleanor thought for a moment. "I should have closed the distance without revealing my key abilities. Used feints and irregular footwork to draw out her arrow types and test her reactions. A partial transformation for speed and strength, without the lightning, might have been sufficient to break her guard once I was close."

"Better," Annabeth acknowledged. "But still incomplete. You think only in terms of your own body. The ring is your weapon. The environment is your weapon. I have taught you that... yet you forgot my lessons in the ring. You could have kicked up dust or debris to obscure her vision. Remember to use your body more, and your elements only to surprise your opponents or deliver a killing blow. Your elemental power is limited; once it’s gone, it will take time to recover. But your body is your constant weapon... your most trusted one. Remember to use it more in your next fights."

They proceeded to the next match. This time, Aria Nightwind was the opponent. Annabeth split the screen, showing the beginning of the match alongside the end.

"Observe. Your initial defence was better... reading the pebble feint, absorbing the shockwave without a flinch, weathering the stone shards and claw strikes with minimal movement. You broke your opponent’s rhythm by refusing to be moved. That control was excellent."

She pointed to the moment Eleanor began her counter-offensive, leaping over the shockwave. "But here, you reverted to your previous matches. You saw an opening, and your solution was, once again, to overpower it. Your aerial axe kick was dramatic. It was also inefficient. You expended significant energy for zero gain. You forced her to dodge, but gained no positional advantage. You merely cracked the floor."

She paused, then added, "You shattered the Earthen Fist with a high-energy precision strike of your own. Then you stood in the centre of the arena and expended even more energy to pulverise a hailstorm of rocks into dust. It was visually impressive. It was also a complete waste of stamina. You could have evaded the entire barrage. Instead, you chose to stand and fight a battle against inanimate objects. I think you were demonstrating that you could break anything she threw at you. That is ego, not tactics. And ego gets someone killed on the battlefield."

Annabeth closed the split screen and focused on the final scene. "Having dragged the fight out longer than necessary, you decided you were done. And what was your solution? The same combination you used in your previous matches. Your opponent knew it was coming... even prepared the perfect counter. A Stone-Skin Infusion, which you overpowered... but she still predicted you."