Isabella proved an unforgiving taskmaster. She didn’t care that Nil had exhausted himself with intense morning training and three duels. Unlike the weapons trainer, she didn’t start the session with spars. Instead, she designed exercises based on their individual abilities.
The Kenyan-born arcane warrior, Mobi, focused on holding his spells while going through axe forms and swinging magically weighted clubs while padded arrows flew at him. According to Isabella, this taught him not to let his magic or martial skills falter while dealing with building mental strain.
Meanwhile, a head-to-toe armored knight danced through a course of rotating Wing Chun dummies while striking targets with a spear. Nil couldn’t see any visible signs of an ability or magic. However, Energy Instinct detected an invisible presence swelling and ebbing around them. Nil knew nothing about the knight. The full plate masked their age, gender, and also, somehow, their build. The presence around the knight swelled whenever they thrust their weapon or swung it and then weakened as they moved and dodged.
Their tasks seemed significantly easier and less punishing than Nil’s. He couldn’t tell whether Isabella wished to push him harder because of his martial technique or if she had a bone to pick with him. Nil found himself facing a trio of high-powered tennis ball launchers. A heavy metal net hung behind them and connected to the machines. Instead of soft, green-fuzz-covered balls, the machines contained fist-sized cannonballs.
“Catch the balls and throw them back into the net,” Isabella told him. “They’re going to track and target you. The longer you take, or if they don’t make it back into the net, the faster the launchers’ firing speed will increase.”
“Hold on a moment,” Nil said, looking between her and the launchers. They and the net sat at least a hundred feet from him. If he had adequate training, his Iron-Realm Might would get him close, but Nil doubted it would be enough. “That’s too far.”
“And? Use your defensive mode to catch the projectiles. Revert to your neutral state. Then, launch it back into the net. The exercise should help you improve your ability, Finesse, and perhaps even Might.”
It was easier said than done.
If it were just one machine, Nil would’ve managed just fine. The launchers fired slow enough for him to catch a ball while channeling Absorb, then revert to neutral before throwing it back with Expend. Unfortunately, the machines were synchronized and didn’t follow a set pattern. The intervals between each shot felt random, and Nil wondered whether they had the ability to detect when he was in the neutral state before firing. He missed a few catches, dropped a few balls, and then failed to get more in the net. The interval between the shots decreased, and he suffered little cannonballs to the shins, thigh, and even a couple to the guts.
“This is too much,” he groaned when Isabella gave him a break after a half-hour barrage. By the end of it, Nil was mostly using Absorb to catch or just take the blow. “Let me start with one machine and scale up. You can’t expect me to—”
“If you want to qualify for the Iron Gauntlet, this is what it will take,” Isabella cut him off. “Can’t handle it? Quit. Another trainer might coddle you, but I won’t. Danger, pain, and threat of injury are necessary for growth. You’ll notice that your power doesn’t just gain rank from repeated usage but also when you push it beyond its limits or discover new uses for it. How can you expect to do that when it's not second nature? Push. Get hurt. Break a few bones. It’ll be fine. Your sponsor gave us decent healers and machines to deal with injuries. Let's make the most of it.”
“Through Sheer Grit,” Nil mumbled to himself. He let Isabella spray his bruises with the Symbiotech spray and returned to work.
By the second session, he struggled to find the strength to stay upright. Unfortunately, Isabella took no mercy on him. She had everyone do a double session through the obstacle course while using their abilities. Meanwhile, an assortment of projectiles flew at them. Nil suffered several bruises, scrapes, and a sprain. He couldn’t tell whether Isabella knew to hold back just enough or it was sheer luck that he didn’t break any bones. When the second session ended and dinner time came, Nil was ravenous. Isabella gave him a personal training schedule before sending him on his way.
I don’t know if I can do this three times a week.
But he did.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Nil woke at seven, ate breakfast, and did agility training. Focusing on flexibility and dodging arrows. Then, after lunch, he took on the cannonballs or whatever threat Isabella threw at him for six hours.
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He attended the unarmed combat and weapons combat training sessions on all days except Sunday. He didn’t seek guidance from the trainers; instead, he played the role of sparring and training partner. After Isabella’s punishing routine, he was often too sore and tight to perform at his best. As a result, Nil lost more often than he won.
Most of his evenings involved watching Apocalypse Arena videos with people targeting the same Mortal Realm events as him. Or he met Andrew, Katherine, and Susan for dinner. Finally, Sundays exclusively became a day for family or friends. The ludus trainers insisted everyone take at least one day off from training.
“It's not just your body that needs to rest,” Isabella told him. “I made it to Silver before I took a step back from the arena. Trust me. I've seen far too many people burn out. You're not as young as some of this other lot, either. Keep your people close before you lose them.”
Nil half listened. Most Sunday evenings ended with him at the junkyard. He mostly hung around with his friends but also played arcade games or found other means of training. Even though she didn't have permission from her superiors, Susan summoned her wolves and had them pursue Nil. He believed Andrew was starting to rub off on her. Skalli and Hati, apparently, also had the power to manipulate moonlight and shadow. Susan didn't want to push her luck and didn't let them use their abilities, but running from the pair or wrestling them proved an enjoyable exercise.
After three weeks, a handful of days before he needed to go on another quest, Nil saw results. As he lay on his back, panting and gritting his teeth through the pain, he wished it were like the movies where a training montage got him where he needed to go.
Finesse has progressed to Mortal 8!
Absorb has progressed to Mortal 6!
Expend has progressed to Mortal 6!
Brutal Battery has progressed to Mortal 6!
Energy Instinct has progressed to Mortal 3!
All the notifications didn't come at once but spread out across a Monday session facing the cannonballs. Nil's timing and control had improved significantly, and he'd been expecting the upgrades. He was especially glad to receive them before the upcoming quest. It gave him hope regarding reaching the Iron Realm before the qualifying events came. He didn't just need to grow stronger but also prove himself in a Mortal Realm event or two, so the ludus trainers would recommend him for the highly contested Apocalypse Arena entrance spots.
It wasn't just Nil's mastery of Brutal Battery and the numbers in the Schema interface that improved. He enjoyed progress in his social life, too. Outside the ludus, he spent more time with Katherine, going on not-dates that usually ended with making out. He could tell that she wanted more but didn't push him. Instead, she asked about his new life in a ludus and his preparations for upcoming events.
Things progressed considerably faster in the ludus. Fatima hadn't yet beaten him, but their matches were getting closer, and he appeared to have won her respect and attention. The visage seemed especially curious about her, more than about anyone else in the building.
“I’ve made a decision, Nil,” she said, joining him at the dinner table. They hadn’t seen each other since the morning’s spar. She had successfully sunk one of her knives an inch into his flesh before he managed to grab her. “We’re going to be teammates, assuming you make it to the qualifiers, too, of course.”
“What makes you think you’ll make it there?” Nil asked. “You have the worst win records in weapons training.”
Fatima grinned. “You don’t get it, do you? My power is meant for dismembering and killing. I have to hold back against everyone but you. Otherwise, I’d end up in jail. When I first started here, I took Ted’s hand off. After the medical staff reattached it, he had to spend a week out of commission. The staff and our dear sponsor ordered me to hold back since then.”
“I need a clearer idea of your power if you want me to work with you. How the hell do you cut me?”
“You’re cutting yourself,” she replied. “My blades attract your bodily fluids and make them vibrate in harmony with the blades.” Fatima shrugged. “I don’t know the science of it. It's a surprise you can still block most of my attacks.”
“So you’re turning your opponent’s moisture against them.” Nil fell silent for a moment as he pictured Fatima’s weapons. Energy Instinct helped him identify an aura around them where the floating pink flecks were most concentrated. At first, Nil wrote it off as a shimmer born of air vibrating around the blade. Now, he hypothesized it was her ability’s range. “Interesting. But why do you want to group with someone like me? Lily and Mobi both have more experience with official fights and are more dedicated defenders.”
“Because they’re slow. Speed and stealth will be paramount if it is a large-scale team event. You’re brawny. Hard as fuck as to put down. But you move pretty damn fast and can be quiet when you want. We’ll be a challenging duo to pin down between your defense and my offense. All we need is a decent mid or long-range fighter.”
“So, someone who can move quickly or stealthily and attack from afar?”
“Or act as bait, setting us up for quick takedowns.” Fatima grinned. “I bet pretty-little Dr Patel will be ecstatic if we create a Symbiotech team, kick butt and qualify for the arena together. Maybe we can get the ludus costs completely paid for, sweet contract renewals, and perhaps even a bonus out of it.”
“Fine,” Nil said. “I need to get close to ascending my ability first. They won’t even consider me for qualifiers if I’m not close.”
“Me too. Do you have a long way to go?”
“Three more ranks. I need to bag an ascension token, too.”
“Well, I hope things work out for you on your quest.”