Again, I was on the floor, the sweet numbness of sleep calling for me. I wished to accept its call, losing myself forever. However, I was raised from the ground by an old man with calluses on his hand, who shook me. "You can't sleep yet," he said, slapping me across the face. He dropped me, and my body automatically landed, getting ready for an attack. 

It wasn't from him, but from a beautiful woman that could make the purest of men fall for her, who chanted something under her breath. As soon as her mouth closed, a stream of purple bullets aimed for my body. Without thinking, I moved into the gaps, unable to avoid them completely. I couldn't feel the pain of being hurt, only the force as I was pushed back, into a metal surface.

I lowered my body, mitigating the damage done by a shield bash, though I, again, landed on my back. I watched as a knife landed, barely cutting through my skin.

I was sweating all over, having repeated this same routine for several days. I couldn't think about anything; why I was here, who these four people were, nor where I was. Still, they always had a short conversation after my defeat. I could never hear through the barrier of magic, visible as a brick wall, blocking them off.

I was raised from the floor by the same old man, who led me away.

The room I was moved to was a huge room, built for a large-scale battle between two sides. It was more multiple dueling arenas, but there had never been another person besides us five.He threw a sword, and i caught it, unsheathing it quickly. Sadly, he was faster, already clashing with mine before it was fully out. He didn't strike with much force, but I was still sent flying. It was the First Form of his swordsmanship: Repulsion. He struck again, though I was able to imitate one of his Forms; Absorption. Just like the name, it absorbed all shock, minimizing damage to zero. However, it was just an imitation. I recovered quickly, steadying myself for another blow, then another, and another. Rarely was I actually standing after an attack.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

After an amount of time that would be called long, Lucy came in, taking me with her, into a room filled with books. There were no words shared, as I read the books, and answered questions or acted out instructions, using something barely better than what was written. I was never able to do either successfully, which brought a beating. Her favoured torture device was the whip. It only took two whips before I fell unconscious.

Waking up, I found myself in an empty room. I tensed up, waiting for the attack that soon found its way into my leg. I kneeled over, seeing a knife placed there. Keeping it in, I twisted my body, forcing a lethal throw to a non-lethal area. 

The knives kept coming, until I eventually succumbed to blood loss, fainting.

Waking up, I found myself strapped to a wooden log, facing a walking fortress. Even under his helmet, I could see his smile, as he cracked his fingers. He threw a punch, landing one on my gut. I forced the rising bile down, as I prepared for another punch. Indeed, it arrived, breaking one of my arms. At that, I let out a squeal, which seemed to displease the man. He started attacking with more force, which bordered me on consciousness and unconsciousness, before his next one forced me to sleep.

The next scene that greeted me was bread, and some kind of liquid that wasn't water. Still, I ate it, struggling to understand how something could be so tasteless. Then, the four appeared, as if waiting for me to finish my meal.