The last year or so consisted of my vassals continuing both their daily studies and our five hours of nightly training. As such, it was often difficult for me to gauge their slow and steady improvements. Therein lay the reason for my hesitation before we began training. Instead, I peered into my Eternal Eye to look back on our first night of training and a few sessions thereafter to compare what I saw then to what was before me now.
The differences were astounding.
Most improved, of course, was Jaimess. He comically struggled with all things physical at first. Within only a few months, however, he had improved to the point of being on par with the rest of us. His dexterity and coordination in particular increased by leaps and bounds. Made evident by the shade ball that seemed to be magnetized to his hands as it ricocheted off the trees at a dribble-like pace; just like Toril, soon after we first began. In addition to that turnaround, he no longer tripped or fell when jumping rope and regularly looked bored during our routine balancing acts in the high branches. Similarly, his proficiency with short blades improved. No longer was he awkwardly wielding the wooden knife or fidgeting whilst tucking it into his belt or otherwise handling it. More so, he hasn’t inadvertently ‘cut’ or hit himself in over four months as he swung and stabbed at the amorphous flesh of his doppelganger with a surprisingly tenacious ferocity.
Jonet too was a bit sluggish after first starting. Though not as badly as Jaimess and not for the same reasons. She was hesitant to fight. And the reason was made evident in her facial expressions when fighting. I knew not the specifics, but I’d seen it before. The look of one who'd been indoctrinated or brainwashed into believing violence was wrong. Under what 'logic' or for what reason, I couldn’t have cared less. I only knew that her hesitation wasn’t caused by fear, trauma, or an innate aversion to violence. Thus I cared only about her overcoming such avenues of thinking.
It took time. It took both gentle and not-so-gentle words of encouragement. Most of all, it took effort. From both of us. But eventually, she overcame her beliefs and began putting her all into our combat training. And she developed rather quickly after doing so. Or rather, she simply started to practice what she’d been holding back this entire time- a natural-born athletic talent. With her potential realized, she then went on to strive toward turning her talent into something truly remarkable.
Whether it was our coordination training or weapons drills or anything else that we found ourselves doing, Jonet displayed a fluidity and elegance akin to a combined dancer, gymnast, and circus performer. It was like watching an athlete in their competitive environment, with motions that appeared more like demonstrations of a sacred art rather than the repetitive training I’d scheduled for us.
Toril on the other hand, was already adept and coordinated with his body movements. Still, I pushed him forward dutifully so I could instill in him a non-complacent attitude coupled with a mindset that strived for constant self-improvement. As he’d one day become the military commander of the guild, I felt that those traits would be among the most important for him to develop early on.
With that in mind, I spent most of the abundant free time I had in the past year transcribing books for my vassals to study. Algebra and geometry; classical mechanics and simple machines; the scientific method; hygiene and germ theory; astronomy; philosophy and sociology; psychology and anatomy; culinary science and nutrition; military doctrine and logistics. Even magic and spellcasting. Almost everything I’d either professionally or casually studied over the course of my past life and in a little of this one was summoned from my Eternal Eye and painstakingly copied for my vassals to learn at their own paces. And though I periodically tested them all, none were as rigorously tested as Toril.
It took over six months, but eventually his catchphrase- ‘I don’t understand, My Lord,’ had reduced in frequency to an all-time low. Conversely, his formerly lacking prowess in elemental manipulation had grown to an all-time high. Looking at him now made it clear he was the best among us at manipulating fire. And his air manipulation wasn’t too far off from mine. Jaimess on the other hand, was undoubtedly the strongest in terms of gripping the earth beneath us. And Jonet seemed to have an innate understanding of water manipulation, most likely due to her ice affinity.
Overall, it was clear to me that we all were ready to move on to the next step.
“Alright.” I sighed after hitting yet another tree with a column of air. Then looked at my three little followers releasing their holds on the elements to give me their undivided attention. “We are now ready to move on to the next stage of our training. Going forward, we’ll continue with an hour of dexterity drills. However, instead of drilling with weapons after, we’ll be fighting.”
Toril's brows rose excitedly. “Against each other, My Lord?”
I simply shook my head and watched their eyes follow my finger, pointing to their condensing shadows before their dark mirrors rose from their two-dimensional plane. “You’ve seen it before, but allow me to tell you all a little about my Doppelganger Spell." I paused to begin pacing around the umbral copies and their originals. "These are indeed clones of yourselves, made from the essence of the umbral plane. As such, they hold the same strength and abilities as you. The difference, however, well…” I sighed before sending an order to the doppelgangers. And as one, they jumped to life; reeling back their arms to deliver a sucker punch straight to the original's faces.
Their heads simultaneously rocked back in a comic fashion before they fell limp in the snow, groaning and rolling about in phantom pain. And then they started scrambling.
“What!” Jaimess shouted first as he frantically waved his arms around. “I- I can’t see!”
“Yeah.” I reached out to withdraw the shadow mana infecting their bodies, then waited a few moments for them to regain their composures. “How’d it feel?” I asked, trying not to smile in amusement.
“Like a strong punch from a soft hand.” Jonet immediately huffed.
Followed by Toril’s shivers. “It was cold, My Lord.”
“And... blinding," Jaimess added with a curse under his breath. “Literally.”
“Seeing is believing.” I pivoted away from them with a shrug in a half-hearted attempt at hiding my amusement. “Being ‘killed’ by your doppelganger means being infected with shadow mana, which in turn robs you of your senses. Despite you being convinced otherwise, a blade of shadow will never cut. And though blunt strikes will sting a little, the darkness itself isn’t life-threatening. In this context, it is a handicap for them.” I explained, raising my finger warningly. “Thus your Doppelgangers will not hold back in the slightest. To defeat ourselves will require us to fight with all our might.”
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“I accept the challenge!” Toril growled, facing his doppelganger with a wicked grin.
‘Not as if you have a choice.’ I chuckled to myself before facing my clone- Numa, with a similar grin. “We’ll go for one hour. Unlimited rounds, lasting until there’s a winner. Win or lose, a five-minute break comes after. Then it's back to it. Once the hour’s up, we break for thirty and go again with weapons.”
With that said, I raised my arm like a proctor starting a race before letting it fall.
“Fight!”
I lunged forth with a jab after my call. And so to did Numa, closing the distance in just a few steps with a pair of jabs that first countered my own before landing square in my jaw, jarring me slightly to my knees and leaving me with the stinging residual pain of a slap. I swung out a backhand as I attempted to right myself and my clone briefly halted his advance to deftly dodge my swing. Then lunged forward again, kicking out the hips to stamp his semi-solid boot into my unguarded ribs.
I felt a wet, labored cough spread a stinging pain through my torso as I turned, fought, and thrashed about in the snow; aiming to turn my back to the ground and achieve a favorable position before my clone was upon me. Numa, however, simply stepped forth and punted my head like a football, jarring my entire world into a blurred landscape of whites and browns. My mouth filled with the ferrous taste of my own weakness. Then I felt a slight pressure- a weight, along with the cold touch of darkness making contact with my chest.
Then my nose erupted in eye-watering pain.
Followed by my eye.
Then my cheek. Chin. The other eye. Again and again. Erupting in new plots of pain on my face from the rain of Numa's hands. In vain, I tried to block and fight back with blows to the ribs and kicks to the back of the head. But alas, I was done for.
When I finally accepted defeat, Numa halted mid-punch and immediately stepped aside to idly stare as I crawled back to my feet.
'Fuck!' I cackled madly as I slid down a trunk to sit mere moments later. Then cackled again after looking over at my equally worn and beaten vassals under idle observation by their clones. ‘No time for warm-ups, I suppose.’ I sighed. Then began thinking back to when I first designed the spell and the many conditions I placed on it. That it remained persistent in a two-dimensional form and grow alongside the original; to not only follow my orders but to be able to act independently and to mimic all abilities of the original.
While I had yet to verify the last condition and everything else seemed true, there were the natural aspects of the spell that I either glossed over in the past or was just learning now. They obviously didn’t tire or feel any pain. More so, they would forever remain calm and rational in any given situation. And while they were physically as strong as the original, their somewhat bouncy flesh made their strikes feel more like a fist-shaped dodgeball pummeling me in the face. Not to mention they looked like unlocked characters in a video game. The first point, however, was the most important. That fact made the doppelgangers a bit like the undead. At least in the sense that I couldn’t simply match his tenacity in kind. I’d tire within seconds and be no better off than in the last round. Yet I couldn’t remain idle or neutral, as my umbral clone would immediately go on the offensive.
In the end, that left me with one avenue of approach: Adaptation.
With my plan of attack settled, I rose to my feet and led my doppelganger a few ways away from our resting area before settling into my guard.
I began the engagement with a front kick this time. Easily, Numa parried, cocked his arm out to his side, and lunged. Following through with my kick, I ducked as I stepped into range of his lariat and spun immediately, outstretching my arm in the process to slam the back of my fist into Numa's ear. Numa staggered to the side but recovered immediately, rising as he pivoted to raise his clenched fists overhead. Digging the ball of my foot into the ground, I put as much power as possible into my hips and drove my fist through Numa's teeth just as his hammer fists crashed into my back.
The rubbery and vacantly cold feeling of shadow flesh against my hand disappeared in an instant and was replaced with the stabbing, searing, shocking symptoms of spinal injuries juxtaposed against the plush feeling of snow beneath my body. But I pushed past the pain and scrambled, launching from the ground to shoulder-check Numa's hips and pull at the backs of his knees with all I had. In tackling him to the ground, I achieved the mount with only a little struggle. Ensuing the slugfest.
I repeatedly punched down with all my weight onto Numa's chin, cheeks, brow, and throat as he fought and thrashed beneath me in much the same ways I did in our first round; only my already weak punches were lacking in power due to my growing fatigue. Realizing I couldn't continue much longer, I wrestled to pin Numa's neck onto a protruding tree root before cocking my free arm back. And with a feral scream, I slammed the heel of my palm into his temple.
With not quite the sound of breakage, Numa's neck shattered against the root. Almost immediately after going limp, the mana in his body began to dissipate and resettle into its two-dimensional form atop the snow. Only then, did I allow myself to collapse in exhaustion and just lie there for a minute before returning to the rest area.
The others were still engaged with their clones in their own areas of our little clearing. Unsurprisingly, Toril was holding his own against his clone and was only struggling with overcoming the mimicry aspect of the spell. Conversely, Jonet was; for the most part, able to defend against her umbral self but was still getting beaten severely.
Jaimess on the other hand, was basically being bullied.
I made sure to capture the sight well in my Eternal Eye, as this was still just the beginning of our training regimen. To use the time-favored analogy, we’d been taking our first steps and were just beginning to properly walk. And once we were able to walk, I planned to have us run- nay, sprint without pause until the awakening ceremony. So with that in mind, I summoned my Doppelganger once more and reengaged.
The next few rounds with my clone were variations of the first two. In some, I lost. Others, I won. In all of them, every punch, kick, block, counter, grab, and throw shared between us had been met in turn by the other. By the end of the hour, we all had bruises and scuff marks covering ourselves from head to foot; with the exception of our enchanted clothes, of course.
I allowed an extra fifteen minutes before we went back at it with weapons and took those fifteen minutes to thoroughly think about my fighting style with my chosen weapons. I experienced a few engagements involving knives, short blades, and hand axes in the past and had even received professional training in knife fighting. Not to mention years of military training. Though the same couldn’t be said for the spear, I was at least able to get a proper sense of form through all the documentaries, demonstrations, and observations I’ve witnessed over the course of my extensive history by virtue of my Eternal Eye; but with no proper training, I was fully aware of the potential losses.
I’d essentially be freestyling, I concluded. And then decided that I’d accept the risks for now and ask my father for a tutor as a contingency. Until then, I’d follow my intuition and swap with my daggers whenever appropriate.
Once the fifteen minutes were up, I spawned our doppelgangers and they formed in much the same way they always had. Only, after we took up arms, their limbs amassed in darkness and began growing- morphing into the same shape as our weapons. And then they engaged.
Luckily, my doppelganger wasn’t as formidable this time around due to my own lacking experience with the spear; resulting in noticeably longer rounds. Though I was fully aware that would change with time. As such, I took my time whenever possible and focused on fighting with the proper form and technique rather than blindly trying to kill Numa. A process that I quickly became enthralled in and thus became surprised when our sparring session came to end. Therein brought about the next item on the itinerary, however. And it was something I was particularly excited about.
“For this hour. I’ll be teaching you my theories on Advanced Elemental Manipulation and Elemental Fusion.”
“Elemental… fusion?” Jaimess repeated slowly.
“It’s exactly as it sounds.” I proudly grinned. “Once I teach you the theory and you learn the basics. We’ll begin training our magic. I have some ideas on how to take each of your magical attributes to new heights.”