Thorne let out a weary breath as he left the sanctity of his bed. ‘No time for the red class.’ He thought as he glanced at the screen, confirming that his hour of rest was nearly over. ‘Let's just hope I'll be able to stand by the time for team training.’
Leaving his bed, Thorne waddled over to the teleporter, and with a simple thought of his destination— ‘red spectrum training area’...he vanished.
‘There is no way people actually get used to this.’ Thorn grumbled internally as he hobbled away from the indigo platform. No matter how many times he went through the process, teleporting never seemed to get any better.
‘Wow.’ Thorne whistled as he looked around, ‘This is some place.’
The room he had been teleported to was similar to the amber training area due to its sheer size; however, that was where the similarities ended. Cages with deadly beasts were scattered throughout the room; even sparring rings and deadly obstacle courses were situated in the monumental area.
Thorne looked around, mouth agape, taking it all in. ‘this is…’
“Hello, are you Thorne?” A curt voice sounded in his ear.
Thorne jumped back reflexively and nearly pulled out his swords until he realized what had caused the noise. It was a short, lanky human with fair skin and neat apparel. He wore simple black pants and a red T-shirt. Thorne was caught off guard by the simple clothes, as he was far more used to the extravagant robes that many of the students and faculty wore.
“Uhm, yes, that’s me.” He responded.
Nodding, the man looked up at him. “Good. I am your mentor for these next three days. Follow me.”
Thorne looked at the man strangely but followed. ‘This is a weird red cultivator, ' he thought as he examined the man. ' He seems polite, is not too out there or loud…’
“So, what has Master Khal taught you about cultivation?” the man asked as the pair strolled forward.
Thorne thought about it for a second before coming to a startling realization: “He…didn’t teach me anything related to cultivation. All I've learned has come from myself and my own experiences."
The man nodded and seemed almost unsurprised by Thorne's words: “I do hope you know the basics at the very least."
“Yes, I know most of the fundamentals.” Thorne responded.
“That’s good, oh, and it looks like we are here, " the man said as he stopped. The duo had arrived at what appeared to be a sizeable sparring ring.
“Are we going to…”
“Yes, we are going to duel.” The man confirmed Thorne's question. “Master Khal has sent me energy recordings of your combat, and while it is decent, you do have a great many flaws.”
“Like what?” Thorne asked. If he was confident in anything regarding his cultivation, it was his proficiency in the red spectrum.
“Well, first of all, what level are you in the red spectrum?” The man asked, looking presumptively at Thorne.
“Uhm, I’m level eighty,” Thorne responded, his brows furrowed.
The man nodded as if he expected such an answer, “That is your biggest problem. You have leveled quickly and so explosively before even learning the foundation.”
Thorne tried to intervene and say that he had learned the foundations of the red spectrum.
The man, however, held up a hand as soon as he saw Thorne open his mouth, “No, I do not mean foundations regarding energy. I mean, regarding combat, the fundamentals of swinging a sword. The knowledge on how to kill with controlled poise." He schooled Thorne with grace, “You have none of that.”
"You have boosted your raw power too much while neglecting the essence of combat."
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With a flourish, the man then retrieved a light-looking short sword and brandished it in front of him, pointing it directly at Thorne; “Thus, in this training, we will focus on fighting without energy first, and then only if you reach proficiency will we move onto battling with energy.”
Thorne nodded and retrieved his dual sabers. He held one at a ninety-degree angle above his head to swiftly counter and defend strikes aimed at his most vulnerable body part. The other saber was in a low, basic stance before him. He had learned these stances through his six months in the forest. They were perfect for defending his entire body while providing a quick counterattack.
“Are you ready?” The man asked as he twirled his sword in a relaxed manner.
Thorne nodded, and then BANG! The man lunged forward, and without even employing any level of great strength, he maneuvered his diminutive blade in a wheel-like motion. It twisted Thorne’s upper blade and caused it to fly expediently right out of his hand!
Trying to react quickly, Thorne lunged forward and tried to skewer the man with his free sword! In the same circular motion that had disarmed Thorne's other blade, the man brought his short sword around to block Thorne's strike, and he used his free arm to punch Thorne in the face, incapacitating him! The punch contained so much raw power that it knocked Thorne off his feet and caused him to stumble backward, as darkness temporarily hijacked his eyes!
Scrunching his face in pain as blood dripped down his broken nose, Thorne attempted to move his body and strike with a devastating overhead assault, but there was a problem.
‘I don’t have my swords!’ Thorne realized, horrorstruck as he looked at his bare hands. Standing in front of him stood the man. He held Thorne's swords in each hand while his own ruinous small sword lay comfortably in a small leather sheath.
“Listen here, Thorne.” The man spoke curtly as Thorne tried to understand what had just happened; ‘how did he so completely defeat me?’
The man held out the black sabers, prompting Thorne to reach out and take them.
“You have been constantly embroiled in combat with beasts for six months.” The man started, “That type of combat is good for two things.” He held up one finger, “One, to introduce someone to the brutality of cultivation.” He then held up his second finger, “And to teach someone how to fight like an animal.”
Thorne bit his lip upon being compared to an animal, but he realized the man wasn’t wrong. he did fight based on instinct and reactions. He rarely planned and was rarely proactive, and when he was, it usually didn’t work out too well.
He thought back to his battle with the snake; he had tried to plan it out. Instead, he had fallen right into the horrible beast's trap and been utterly destroyed by both power and intelligence. 'I was outthought by a snake.' Thorne realized in revulsion for the first time
“This style of combat is only useful as a side tool.” The man continued while looking harshly at Thorne, “It is good to be able to react quickly and fight with instincts, but only after your plan fails and there is no other choice.” The red walls of the training area glinted as the man spoke, “The most important aspect of red spectrum combat is not brute strength or power. No, it is skill and intelligence.” The man's eyes widened in passion as his previous calm and polite demeanor was thrown out the window, “You must have both, for you need the skill to win battles, and you must have the intelligence to properly use your skill!” The man's red eyes exploded in fiery zeal, “Most red cultivators are bumbling boars. They misinterpret their gift of power and are oafish and inept. They are disgraces to the red spectrum and are the reason why we are a dying breed of cultivators! Only with intelligence and skill, coupled with your natural gift of raw power, will you be able to conquer and advance!”
The man looked at Thorne intensely. His facial veins bulged while spit flung out his screaming mouth. “Is that too much for you?” he asked in a dangerously low tone.
Thorne looked at the man. ‘He’s like me, ' he realized, ‘except he's stronger, he's smarter, and he's more skillful.’ Thorne nodded, his eyes hardening. ‘I must be better than him!’
Smirking ever so slightly, the man held out his hand and motioned for Thorne to come to him and fight!
Thorne walked cautiously, holding his swords in a wide stance. His swords were positioned far from each other. ' If he strikes, i’ll have to defend with one, and then immediately attack with the other.’ Thorne thought grimly, ‘I have no other chance of victory.’
The mentor held out his sword in a very simple stance, positioned so the hilt rested just in front of his waist. His other hand lay behind his back, ready to strike if needed.
‘There!’ Thorne realized as the man lunged forward. ‘What's he doing?’ Torne questioned. The mentor didn’t lunge forward with his sword. No, he prompted his attack with a bare-knuckle strike!
Without much time to think, Thorne realized what the man might be trying to do; ‘he wants to draw out one of my swords!’ Thus, Thorne ducked under the punch, only to be greeted by the flying edge of the man's short sword!
Turning as fast as he could, Thorne brought his left sword to block it! But the man changed his attack; with haste beyond comprehension, the man swerved his sword away from Thorne's own and brought it upward, right at Thorne's neck!
‘I can't block it!’ Throne realized, as his fate sunk in, ‘Though I can still do damage!’ With his spare saber, Thorne swung forward at a horizontal arc, right at the man's stomach!
“Stop!” The man shouted. Thorne obeyed as sweat dripped down his neck.
“That was good,” The man smiled slightly, “But not good enough.”
Thorne looked at the position of his sword; it would have slashed right through the man's stomach. Then he glanced at the man’s short sword; its edge was at Thorne’s neck.
“In the future, try not to die.” The man said, his red eyes shining animalistically. “Now, let's go again!”