The training room had the interior of an average-sized gym, with weights and tools Zenith hadn't seen before. It also had some side rooms; all of it seemed to be custom-made as this freighter used to carry goods, and now it had been repurposed. Fable, with his arms crossed, spoke. "As a relic hunter, there are rules, and in Allspace there are two important rules. Number one, never leave a man behind. Number two, never steal from another member."

Holding his hand up and counting the two numbers, he continued to speak. "Every relic site is different in some way, some having laws of space and time that are slower or faster, with a day here in the real world being 2 days inside there. These places are good and rare, often sold and made into training centers with the slower the timescale inside, the pricier it will be. After all, imagine setting up a weapons factory inside one of those during wartime." Zenith listened intently; this all made sense and broadened his horizons.

"What I'm trying to get across is, as a relic hunter, you need to train your eyes and mind to put a credit value on everything you see, even a random rock inside the space, because these places we purchase have been gone through several times; it's more important for us." Zenith was a little curious and spoke up. "What's the point of going through a place if it's been handed down a lot?" He couldn't help but ask.

Fable grinned, as if knowing this would occur. "Relic spaces are big, very big. They are also weird and different. An artificial forest, a maze of caves, a ruined or intact temple, hell, you may even end up in the core of a planet. So the thing is, for those big shots, time is money. The more power you have, the quicker and faster you can burst through a relic to grab stuff and go to the next. No one has infinite manpower."

This seemed reasonable; Zenith nodded. Fable continued. "That being said, you need strength, stamina, skills, and knowing how to pick your fights, which brings us to the reason you are here. Try and hit me."

Zenith was a little surprised. "With my weapons or fists?" Fable laughed out and responded, "Doesn't matter." Zenith then dashed towards Fable, using every bit of skill he had learned in his life and fights, as well as the strength he had while working in a refinery. He punched towards Fable. Fable smiled and simply used some basic movements and Zenith's own weight, throwing him behind him and onto the training mat below them.

Zenith gasped, stunned and a bit unconvinced. He felt he would at least get a hit in, not be handled in a way that was seen in movies. He rushed to Fable again. But this time Fable used different movements, locking Zenith's arm behind his own back, then pushing him face-first into the mat again. "Continue!"

Zenith clenched his fists, grinding his teeth. He continued to at least try and land a hit on Fable. His movements were rigid and sloppy, obviously street fighting. In the end, he remembered Fable not caring about weapons and resorted to using the laser dagger and sword. Fable didn't even use his own weapons, simply dodging every attack Zenith threw at him until Zenith gave up, panting heavily and sweating. "Not bad, you can keep up constantly at that pace for nearly 6 minutes. That's okay stamina; the average boxing round is 3 minutes, with many rounds.

Granted, having my resonance frequency activated gives me more than you, but it still needs to be trained. We need to push you to your peak limit. I'm going to tell you this now, Zenith: are you really ready to go through with this? I'm not going to go easy on you, but I can promise you, at the end of this, with what you learn and got, you can at least equal one of those bodyguards with their resonance ability activated while you're a normal person. This isn't counting any external stuff like elixirs and drugs."

Zenith, catching his breath, looked thoughtful then excited, clenching his fists tightly again. What he hated the most was being pushed down in a corner with no way to fight back. He spoke up, "I can handle it. I'm ready." Fable smiled, "Good, come at me again." Zenith took a big gulp and tried to analyze Fable, gritting his teeth. He stood up and rushed towards him, this time maintaining his pace so he couldn't have it used against him and could better react to Fable's counter.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

But a moment later, he felt a shock, falling onto his butt, blinking in surprise. A stinging pain on his cheek, a trickle of blood running down his lip. He looked up at Fable, stunned. Fable had actually punched him. "Didn't I ask if you're ready? I bet you thought you could try and manage my counters, but didn't expect me to fight back, huh? There's a quote that was found in some scraps of human records that kept coming up again. It was by a human boxer that said, 'Everyone has a plan till they get punched in the mouth.' You need to feel this pain and get used to it again and again until it doesn't phase you, 'cause if you falter for a moment, you can die."

Zenith's eyebrows furrowed slightly. Wiping off the blood from his lip, he stood up fiercely, not wanting to be seen as weak. He began to continue the training. Meanwhile, within the colony city's richer district, reserved for those with prestige and money to spend, a large estate in an artificial terraform bubble was spotted. The inside was green and lush like a miniature paradise, though inside the estate itself, it was all but as beautiful and joyful as the outside.

Clair was looking down in fear and shame at the ground, inside a chamber with beautiful paintings and decorations, furniture hand-carved and aged. A fireplace was lit, burning wildly, the wood used releasing no smoke and giving a gentle nature fragrance. In front of the fireplace, a lady was seated to the side while a man stood in front of it, hands behind his back. The lady in dress-like attire matching today's fashion, and the man in a well-made suit from a popular designer. The woman looked similar to Clair, as well as the man; these were her parents.

"Do you know how much trouble you caused me?" The man turned around, his face filled with annoyance and disappointment. "That brat Zenith was actually friends with a kid of the Veremont family, not just that, but a direct descendant! Your grandfather was furious, and the family elders used this to attack my capabilities as a leader! You almost lost us market share."

Clair quivered, her eyes teary, being yelled at like that. "F-father, please forgive me... I-I didn't know Kalen was from the Veremont family. All this t-time he was hidin-" Her father shouted out, drowning out his daughter's voice. "I don't give a damn about who is who! You don't need to worry or focus about anything outside the family! Your role is to prepare yourself for marriage!" Glaring with irritation. Clair kept silent, about to weep, until her mother sighed and spoke up. "Reginald, control yourself... It was obviously a mistake; our sources didn't even know about the Veremont child." Reginald, Clair's father, grunted. "Two of our men were injured with one losing a hand. We can't even investigate who assisted the kid because we're afraid that the Veremont's will find out."

Reginald sighed, irritated and exhausted. He had dealt with the fallout, apologizing, making concessions and promises that Clair and his family would not ever give trouble to Zenith again. In fact, they even gifted the Veremont's a factory because of the troubles they caused Kalen. "We are done with this. You are to stay at the estate until I say otherwise... understood?" He glared at his daughter.

Clair weakly nodded her head, tears running down her face. Reginald, satisfied, soon left the room, leaving the mother and daughter alone. The mother, named Sovia, opened her arms to her daughter, to which Clair rushed over and embraced her, crying against her bosom.

"Silly girl, why give all your attention to some lowly boy? You will be wed to a handsome, rich young master of a great family." She tenderly rubbed her daughter's back. Though to Clair, she stopped crying for a moment, then mumbled.

"M-Mother, do I have to marry someone... so soon?" She weakly spoke. Hearing her daughter say this, Sovia looked surprised. "Well, of course, otherwise..." Her mother noticed something in her daughter's eyes. "Clair, do you have feelings for that boy Zenith?... Is this why you kicked up such a fuss trying to get him here to work as a servant? Even going as far as to force the head butler to tell us we need to recruit another?"

Clair cleared her throat, looking a little sheepish and guilty, her cheeks softening with a red hue. She would never admit it. "I... just thought I needed to take him down a notch. And that his feisty resolve would be a good asset for the family... I don't like him, not at all. He is some nobody; nothing good would come of liking him."

Her mother chuckled softly, reaching over to caress her daughter's red cheeks. "Silly girl, you can't pull one over on your own mother. I was a young girl too, you know. You like those bad boy types, huh? Thinking you can tame something. My dear, this Zenith is a fleeting moment in your life; it's just a silly crush. You will get over it. What man can't you have? Those we recommend to you are filled with those types."

Clair sighed a little, unsure about things. She continued to try and deny it, though she could never lie to her own heart. To her, Zenith, who always rejected and teased and taunted her in return, never giving in to her position and money, was like the thing she couldn't reach, something that was there that she could look at but not have. Eventually, it made her want him more.