Dragging my feet down the corridor, I trudged back towards my dorm, the echoes of Ilka's laughter still ringing in my ears. Why did I agree to this insane pact again? Oh, right. For power. Or perhaps it was the allure of the unknown, of mastering something that no one else in this world could.

As I approached my room, I halted in my tracks, staring at the door. "Ilka, aren't we going to the training grounds?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at the mischievous spirit floating behind me.

Ilka's form seemed to quake with sudden fury. "What?" she shouted, incredulous. "How could you even think of training there! Are you planning to just give away my martial arts to everyone?! Not only that, you also suck at everything, what if someone steals the techniques and perfects them before you! How do you think I would feel?! So no way! It's not like you're doing anything difficult, you have to start off with basic training."

She circled around me, her glow fluctuating with her agitation. "Now take out something to draw with," she ordered, halting abruptly in front of me.

I blinked at her in surprise. "Something to draw with? Am I taking art classes now?" I retorted, sarcasm dripping from my words as I fished out a set of markers and a stack of paper from my bag.

She huffed, rolling her eyes at me before taking a deep breath, her glow simmering down. "Just do as I say, V," she said, her tone calmer yet still holding a hint of mockery. "Now, follow my hand movements."

She floated in front of me, her 'hand' starting to move in precise, deliberate strokes in the air. I observed closely and began drawing on the paper. My hand followed the pattern she was making, sketching out what appeared to be shoe soles, right in red and left in blue. Each one meticulously numbered under her hawkish watch. I regret not detailing her marital arts, I don't know much about martial arts so in my novel I just left vague descriptions.

"Alright, now let's place them around the room. Don't you dare mess up by an inch," Ilka instructed, her voice carrying an air of authority that I was beginning to dislike.

I responded with a mocking salute and an exaggerated, "Yes, Master~," earning a stern glare from her. I could have sworn her glow dimmed in annoyance.

Following her directions, I began placing the shoe prints around the room, on the floor, on the walls, and even on the ceiling. By the end, the room looked like a bizarre art installation. Standing in the middle of the chaotic scene, I couldn't help but ask, "What the hell are you making me do?"

Ilka simply smirked at my confusion. "This is basic, nothing too difficult," she stated, her voice echoing in the strange silence of my dorm.

She then proceeded to instruct me on how I should move, making sure to emphasize the importance of following the exact sequence of the numbered footprints. "You're not allowed to use aura to do this," she reminded me sternly. "And while doing this, you can't attempt to balance yourself. If you mess up, you have to start all over."

"Ugh, this is going to take eons," I groaned, glancing dubiously at the dizzying array of footprints. I followed her directions, attempting to mimic her hand movements but stumbling and tripping on the first four steps. I've fallen a few dozen times and I can't make it past the fourth step. No matter how I think of it, it's strange, if I were to balance myself I could probably make it halfway, how the hell is this going to help me though?

"Ilka," I grumble, annoyance seeping into my voice. "Why the hell am I doing this?"

Suddenly, a diminutive figure lands on my forehead, a scowl adorning her ethereal face. "Get up, you imbecile!" Ilka yells, her voice ringing in my ears. "You asked for this, so quit whining and try again!"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

A wry grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. Using my fingers, I grab her, my digits wrapping easily around her small form. She squirms in my grip, pushing futilely against my hand. I poke at her, my annoyance replaced with amusement. "You promised this was basic, easy stuff, remember?" I remind her, trying to suppress my laughter.

"Let me go, you brute!" she yells, her face flushed in indignation. "You Fucking Bastard! This is my footwork, how dare you question it! Did you really think mastering my martial arts would be easy?! This is just the beginning! It will probably take you a couple of months before you even have the most basic part of my footwork engraved in you!"

I sigh, releasing my grip on Ilka. "Alright, alright, I got it." I push myself up from the floor, turning my attention back to the footprints scattered around the room. "But why the hell can't I get past the fourth step?"

Ilka heaves a sigh, her form floating just above my shoulder. "You idiot! You keep trying to balance yourself! Your body naturally tries to prevent you from falling. You have to suppress that instinct. You keep thinking you're going to fall, and that's why your body reacts the way it does."

I sigh, shaking my head. "Easier said than done, Ilka." I'm not the goddamn main character or some genius!

But I try again, this time focusing on suppressing my instinct to balance myself. To my surprise, I make it past the dreaded fourth step and onto the sixth before I trip and fall once again.

From her perch above me, Ilka chuckles. "As much as it pains me to admit, you have a smidgen of potential. Just a smidgen, in fact, it's tiny, so tiny its barely noticeable, mind you. It's much more than I expected from you, though."

Sitting up, I brush off her comment with a chuckle of my own. "Thanks, Ilka. I'll take that as a compliment."

Sweat trickles down my forehead as I once again find myself sprawled on the floor, having failed yet another attempt to mimic Ilka's bizarre footwork. Fuck me, why do I have to struggle so damn much? Why can't I just live an easy life.

"What's with your footwork, Ilka?" I groan, staring at the ceiling. "Am I training to enter a circus?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Ilka's reaction, however, is less than amused. Her form blazes with a fiery fury as she flies in front of my face. "Don't you dare belittle my footwork! Dammit! I already told you! How does my martial arts work?!" she roars, her yell so sudden and powerful that I find myself falling over again.

Regaining my composure, I push myself up, brushing off the dirt from my clothes. "Isn't your martial arts a series of techniques that focus on disrupting the enemy's senses while making them create openings?" I retort, recalling our previous lessons.

Ilka floats in front of me, her agitation slowly fading. "Yes, that's one way of describing it," she begins, regaining her usual, calm demeanor. "But it's a gross oversimplification. Each technique in my martial art style is a unique entity. They can be combined in myriad ways to create unpredictable and deadly combinations."

She floats higher, her gaze piercing into mine. "My footwork is an essential part of this. My footwork makes it so that enemies are unable to decipher what my next move will be. They won't be able to predict how I will move and my location. At a certain level, even your casual walk can manipulate your true martial level perfectly" she explains, her words tinged with a hint of pride.

A chuckle escapes my lips as I listen to her boast. "Wow~ My master is the greatest~ So amazing~" I comment, my words dripping with sarcasm.

Without warning, Ilka swoops down and lands a punch on my forehead. It doesn't hurt, but the shock of it makes me stagger back a bit. "Damn it, V! This is serious!" she scolds, her voice echoing in the room.

"Yes, yes, I get it," I say, pushing myself off the floor. I shake my head, trying to clear the ringing that Ilka's punch had left behind. "Do you have any tips? Oh great Master, please bestow some wisdom upon your pitiful disciple~" I ask, laying the sarcasm on thick.

Ilka heaves a sigh, a soft shimmering of annoyance visible in her aura. "This is your first day, V. You're obviously not going to master it in a single day," she chastises, her voice carrying a note of weariness.

Then, to my surprise, a light sparks in her eyes, and she seems to be hit with a sudden idea. "How about this," she begins, her form floating towards the nearby table. "Even though I'm tiny, I can perform the footwork at a speed you can see. Try to watch my movements, and see if you can understand any of it."

Without another word, she lands on the table and begins to move. Even though she's tiny, I can see the precision and grace in each step. I try to follow her movements, my eyes straining to catch each little shift, each tiny adjustment.

However, after about fifteen seconds, a wave of dizziness sweeps over me. I find myself grabbing onto the edge of the table, my vision spinning as I try to follow Ilka's fluid, rapid movements. What the fuck! how the hell did she do that? Did I get Dizzy from just watching her?