“Are you ready?” Alarion asked.

ZEKE tilted his head, the glow in his eyes dimming, as if he was squinting. From anyone else it was a reasonable question. From Alarion it was… odd. “I believe I am.”

“Void Slash.” Alarion responded without preamble, a razor of darkness racing across the field between them.

The Steelborn slipped the attack, dodging to the left as Alarion came for him.

Alarion knew from the start that he wasn’t going to land a hit simply by firing off at range. ZEKE was too fast and even the shortened wind up on his refined dagger was too long. This wasn’t a test of precision, but of utility. He knew how to cast it, now he had to learn how to use it.

“Void slash.” Alarion repeated, this time up close and personal. It wasn’t the ideal use for a ranged attack, but there was something to be said for firing point blank.

Not that it mattered. A quick shove from ZEKE showed the flaw in casting when up close. Namely disruption. He was only halfway through the motion of his spell when his tutor slammed the flat of his palm against Alarion’s elbow, causing the spell to backfire spectacularly in his face.

Alarion was thrown backward by the detonation. He stumbled, tripped and rolled backward into a crouch, dagger still in his hand as he chanted, “Void Slash!”

This time it was a close thing. Surprise definitely helped minimize the difference in speed, with ZEKE only narrowly skirting the edge of the dark blade as it raced past him.

Pity that the quest did not count near misses.

The boy was on him in moments. He lashed out with a quick low kick, then threw a [Void Slash] the moment ZEKE shifted his footing to avoid it. It missed, predictably, but Alarion continued the pressure with a shoulder check to force the Steelborn off balance as he tried again.

“Closer.” ZEKE remarked as he ducked low under the line of attack, caught Alarion’s next kick and shoved the young man wildly off balance. “I’ll grant that you’re becoming less predictable.”

And less easily taunted. ZEKE’s words had been among his strongest weapons in his earliest bouts with Alarion, but that value had lessened through repetition. Lately his pupil seemed to tune him out entirely during their sparing matches, and this fight was no exception.

Not that it would stop ZEKE from trying.

“Much further.” The machine scolded as he effortlessly stepped out of the way of yet another attempt. “You should be glad for your flaw. If you had to regenerate normally, we would be here for weeks at this rate!”

Alarion’s reply was all too typical.

“Void Slash.”

On and on it went. Cast after cast after cast. And through his tribulations came innovation. He could cast [Void Slash] vertically and diagonally as well as horizontally, though neither helped him land a hit. The spell could also be cast back-to-back, chained one after another in a way that was faster than an individual spellcast. Those chain casts pressured ZEKE far more than solitary spells, but Alarion knew they were something he could not rely upon in a real battle. Three or four back-to-back casts were powerful in theory but made-up most of his normal MP pool in practice. He could stretch that MP by making shorter cuts in the air, as it turned out, but those were easier to dodge.

Minutes dragged on into hours as ZEKE and Alarion clashed, parted and clashed again. He’d gotten closer over time, but that time was running out. Morning had given way to afternoon, and the sun had already begun its descent. His quest would time out within the hour and he refused to let that happen.

“Void slash.”

Another failure.

“Void slash!”

Another miss.

He was frustrated, and that was not helping his aim. To land a hit, Alarion needed his wits about him. He needed to read ZEKE’s movements, to box his mentor in, to the point that a dodge would lead him into another attack. Unfortunately, ZEKE was all too aware of this plan. The Steelborn was constantly on the move, altering his patterns so that Alarion could not predict how he would dodge. Sometimes he ducked or rolled, other times he jumped. One attack prompted him to go left, while an identical threat could make him go right.

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There seemed to be no method to his evasions. Save one. A weakness that Alarion shared. There was no way that it was ZEKE’s intent. But it would work.

Alarion tested his hypothesis a few minutes later, careful not to tip his hand. He launched an attack slightly off center, one that ZEKE could avoid with a single step to the left. Instead, the machine lurched right, sacrificing some of his footing to avoid the more obvious evasion.

He repeated the test twice more, each time to similar results. ZEKE was willing to sacrifice both efficiency and randomness of movement under the right circumstances. Doubtless it would only work once, as soon as ZEKE realized what he was trying he’d call a stop to the training or inflict a very physical rebuke for his gall. Alarion had to make it count.

And with the timer ticking down in the corner of his field of vision, he had to make it count soon.

So he increased the pressure. Alarion pushed himself to his limit, throwing out spell after spell in feigned frustration. The lower his MP got, the faster the pressure of the surrounding magic refilled that MP, to the point that he could chain them almost indefinitely when his natural supply got low enough. The individual spells were sloppy, wasteful, but that too was part of the deception. ZEKE wouldn’t be so easily lulled into a false sense of security, but the lack of a credible threat would make it easier for Alarion to herd him toward his trap.

“When you’re done throwing a tantrum, perhaps it is time for a break.” ZEKE’s voice was full of reproach as he avoided one dark cut after another. The whole training yard was littered with cuts and gouges from Alarion’s spellcasting. As was the hillside beyond that. In fact, the whole area was positively torn up after eight hours of training.

Everywhere, that was, but a small slice of the valley. One that contained a cabin, a few chairs and tents, a large umbrella. And the two Vitrian women watching from the shade beneath.

It was the one place ZEKE wouldn’t dodge. And if Alarion knew where he wouldn’t or couldn’t go, then that simplified things greatly.

Alarion’s response to ZEKE’s taunt was a sudden sharpeness in his movements. No more sloppy spells, no more haphazard aim. With Elena and Sierra to ZEKE’s left, Alarion aimed at ZEKE’s right side with a diagonal [Void Slash]. When ZEKE rolled beneath it, the only real option left to him, he was intercepted by a reverse cut that shuffled him awkwardly back to the left.

Just in time for Alarion to strike him cleanly in the jaw with a lunging knee.

It was like hitting steel. Which should have been obvious given the machine’s metallic composition. But Alarion was an awakened with a magical item that reduced the damage he took from striking hardened objects. He hadn’t tested it, but with his current strength he was fairly certain he could dent common steel without damage if he put his mind to hit. But hitting ZEKE was like striking a solid block of metal. The only thing that gave out in the exchange was his kneecap.

Even so, momentum and balance still played a factor. Alarion had a lot of the former, and ZEKE very little of the latter. They went down together in a rolling heap, and as luck would have it, Alarion came out on top, dagger in hand. His lungs burned from the burst of exertion, yet he still had enough air in them to stammer out two words.

“Void Slash.”

It was a pathetic excuse for an actual cast. The cut in the air was short and shallow, what with ZEKE attempting to restrain his arm. But with his knee on the Steelborn’s shoulder, and magic at his fingertips, it was enough. Less than a foot wide, the barely complete spell tore into the ground next to ZEKE’s head, and left an inch long cut in the metal of one cheek.

[Quest Complete – Hit Him]

Reward: One Common Instructor Box

Would you like to claim your Rewards? Yes/No

Alarion hopped off of ZEKE with a smile, the quest reward already beginning to materialize at his mental command.

“That was gauche.” ZEKE sat upright without so much as adjusting his posture, his glowing green eyes positively glowering at Alarion. “And not at all the point of the exercise.”

“You said to hit you. I hit you.”

“It was implied that I wanted you to strike me fairly.”

“Was that unfair?” Alarion’s arms were outstretched to catch the reward box as it finished, this one adorned with a depiction of Alarion triumphantly shooting his mentor in the face from point blank range. “You had a weak point. I exploited it. Seems fair.”

“Alarion.” ZEKE’s disappointment was palpable.

The boy didn’t budge in his conviction. “I had a quest to hit you. Whatever way you intended, I wasn’t going to manage it. My options were to use them to box you in, or to take a shot at them and see if you’d block it.”

Put that way, it was hard to argue he’d made the wrong choice.

ZEKE clearly agreed. “… I’ll give you some pointers this evening when we go again. Now what did you get?”

Alarion held up two vials of deep blue liquid. They shifted with the same viscosity as healing potions, easily recognizable at a glance for what they were. Then his other hand produced a small copper threaded bracelet.

“Mana potions. Useful to keep on you in a pinch, but I wouldn’t rely on them. Mana regenerates faster than health, after all. At worst, keep them around in case you are subject to a strong mana condition, as they can be used to heal those similarly to how a health potion can heal physical conditions.” ZEKE turned his attention to the bracelet next. “That, on the other hand will be more useful. It is an MP reserve. Think of it as a sort of reusable MP potion. You fill it up with mana, and when you need it you can draw the mana out to replenish your stocks. Typically slowly, though in your case it may just dump the MP directly into your pool. We will have to test.”

“Not completely a flaw.” Alarion said with a thin smile.

“No, it isn’t.” ZEKE patted the young man on the shoulder, then stood and offered him a hand. “But do not get complacent. There are more places in this world with weak magic than there are places like this. Anywhere with great magical trauma, such as a fiend’s boil, will present a considerable danger to you.”

“Mm.” Alarion nodded and stood, then asked, “What’s next?”

“For tonight? Dinner. Then I’ll teach you how to hit me properly. After that, well, I had the quartermaster construct a few other spell formulas.”