The next day, Nyx descended the stairs to his underground base, anticipation building with each step. He'd spent hours the previous night reviewing the recordings of his retainers' demonstrations, marveling at their skill and power. Now, it was time to put that knowledge to use.

As Nyx approached the control console, he summoned his clones. "Alright, you two," he said, gesturing towards the metal platforms. "Let's see if we can mirror some of Bjorn's moves."

The clones nodded, stepping onto the platforms. As they took their positions, the metallic walls rose around them with a soft hum of magic. Nyx activated the playback system, and a ghostly image of Bjorn Stormaxe materialized between the two clones.

"Ready?" Nyx called out. The clones gave a thumbs up, their faces set with determination.

The illusory Bjorn began to move, his massive form flowing through a series of powerful swings and blocks. The clones attempted to mirror his actions, their feet planted firmly on the ground as they swung imaginary axes.

From his position at the console, Nyx's jaw dropped. What he saw was far from the graceful, powerful movements of the dwarf warrior. Instead, his clones flailed about, their arms swinging wildly out of sync with Bjorn's movements.

"No, no!" Nyx shouted, leaning forward over the console. "You're swinging too wide! Tighten it up!"

The remaining clones gathered around, each offering their own advice.

"Bend your knees more!" one yelled.

"Watch your footwork!" another chimed in.

"You're off-balance!" a third added.

The cacophony of instructions only seemed to make things worse. The two clones on the platform, overwhelmed by the conflicting advice, began to stumble. One clone's wild swing threw him off balance, causing him to stagger into the other. They collided in a tangle of limbs, crashing to the floor in a decidedly un-warrior-like heap.

Nyx winced, covering his eyes with his hand. "By the Four Towers," he muttered, "we're worse than I thought."

As the clones on the platform struggled to untangle themselves, Nyx couldn't help but laugh. The sight of his duplicates, so far from the skilled warrior they were trying to emulate, was both humbling and hilarious.

"Alright, alright," Nyx called out, waving his hand to lower the platform walls. "Let's take a break and rethink our approach. Clearly, we've got a long way to go before we're anywhere near Bjorn's level."

As the clones gathered around the console, rubbing their bruised egos (and bodies), Nyx realized that mastering these combat techniques would take more than just watching and imitating. They needed to start with the basics, building a foundation before attempting the more advanced moves.

"Next time," Nyx said, a determined glint in his eye, "we start with simple stances and individual movements. No more trying to copy entire sequences until we've got the fundamentals down."

"That would be the standard way to do things," one of the clones spoke up, a thoughtful expression on his face. "However, none of this is even normal." He gestured at himself and the others, highlighting their unique situation.

Nyx paused, trying to decipher his clone's train of thought. After a moment, the clone continued, "Try unsummoning those two, and take in their memories. Then try going on the platform yourself."

Intrigued by the suggestion, Nyx nodded. He dismissed the two clones who had attempted the exercise, feeling the rush of their experiences flood his mind. With a deep breath, he stepped onto the platform himself.

The clone who had proposed the idea took control of the console, activating the system. The metal walls rose around Nyx, and a ghostly image of Bjorn materialized beside him.

As the demonstration began, Nyx attempted to mirror Bjorn's movements. Despite having absorbed his clones' memories, he found himself struggling just as much as they had. His movements were clumsy and out of sync, a far cry from Bjorn's fluid grace.

The clone at the console, noticing Nyx's difficulties, adjusted the playback speed. Bjorn's image began to move in reverse, resetting to the beginning of the sequence. This time, the dwarf's movements were half as fast.

Nyx tried again, finding it somewhat easier to follow along at the reduced speed. However, he still stumbled through many of the movements, his body unused to the complex series of actions.

Throughout the exercise, his clones called out advice from beyond the walls. "Shift your weight to your back foot!" one shouted. "Keep your elbow tucked!" another advised. Their voices blended into a cacophony of well-meaning but overwhelming instructions.

After several more repetitions, the metal walls lowered. Nyx stepped off the platform, his clothes drenched in sweat. He noticed two of his clones hunched over the console, excitedly manipulating the runes with intense focus.

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"Okay," Nyx panted, wiping his brow, "now dismiss and resummon those three." He gestured to the clones who had been shouting instructions.

Without questioning, Nyx complied, dismissing and immediately resummoning the three clones. They made their way to the platforms, two on one and one on the other.

As the metal walls rose once more, Nyx watched curiously from the console. The clone who had been working the controls began moving runes around with practiced precision.

Suddenly, three images of Bjorn appeared, one next to each clone. But something was different this time. The Bjorns seemed to twist and morph, as if made of clay. Within moments, they had reshaped themselves to match Nyx's exact height and build.

Nyx's eyes widened in realization. By adjusting the illusion to match their own physical dimensions, the clones had eliminated one of the major obstacles in mirroring Bjorn's movements. It was a clever adaptation, one that showcased the unique problem-solving abilities that came from having multiple versions of himself working on the same challenge.

As the demonstration began anew, Nyx leaned forward, eager to see if this adjustment would make a difference in his clones' performance. The ingenuity displayed by his duplicates filled him with a sense of pride and excitement. Perhaps this unconventional approach to learning was exactly what they needed to master these complex combat techniques.

What happened next made Nyx's jaw drop. The illusory Bjorns split into three distinct images, each showcasing a different part of the combat sequence. Suddenly, mirrors materialized around the clones, reflecting their movements from all angles. The ghostly image of Bjorn overlaid each clone's body, creating an eerie fusion of dwarf and human.

The playback slowed even further, allowing the clones to study each minute detail of Bjorn's technique. Nyx watched, transfixed, as his duplicates began to move with increasing precision. The lessons from Nyx's earlier attempts, combined with this new approach, yielded remarkable results.

Each clone focused intensely on their assigned portion of the sequence, repeating it over and over. Errors diminished with each iteration, their movements growing smoother and more confident. The mirrors provided instant feedback, allowing the clones to correct their form in real-time.

After a dozen repetitions, the metal walls lowered. The three clones stood on their platforms, clothes soaked with sweat, but their faces glowing with accomplishment. Nyx could hardly believe the transformation he'd witnessed.

With a mix of excitement and trepidation, Nyx dismissed all the clones. The influx of their combined experiences hit him like a tidal wave. Fatigue crashed over him, his muscles screaming in protest as if he'd physically performed every repetition himself. Lightheaded and overwhelmed, Nyx slumped against the cool stone wall, sliding down to sit on the floor.

As he sipped water, trying to recover, Nyx's mind buzzed with the newly acquired knowledge. The fragmented movements from each clone began to coalesce in his mind, fitting together like pieces of an intricate puzzle. While the complete sequence still felt disjointed, a basic understanding began to take shape.

Nyx realized that while he couldn't execute Bjorn's movements perfectly, he now had a solid foundation. The stumbling and flailing of his earlier attempts seemed like a distant memory. He felt confident that he could now attempt the sequence without tripping over his own feet.

As his breathing steadied and the room stopped spinning, Nyx couldn't help but marvel at the effectiveness of this unconventional learning method. By leveraging his unique abilities and thinking creatively, he'd made more progress in one session than he might have in weeks of traditional practice.

"Well," Nyx muttered to himself, a tired but satisfied smile playing on his lips, "I guess there are some advantages to being able to experience things from multiple perspectives at once."

He knew he had a long way to go before he could match Bjorn's skill, but this breakthrough filled him with renewed determination. As he slowly got to his feet, already planning the next training session, Nyx felt a surge of excitement for the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the initial excitement of his training breakthrough faded, Nyx found himself pondering the peculiarities of his clone ability. He leaned against the cool stone wall of the underground base, his muscles still aching from the absorbed exertion of his duplicates.

"Something doesn't add up," Nyx muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

He recalled the incident with the blacksmithing clone and the blister. By all accounts, that injury should have persisted for at least two weeks, even with proper treatment. Yet it had vanished in a mere three days.

"And just now," Nyx continued his train of thought, "taking on the workout of three people at once should have knocked me out cold, or worse."

A realization struck him. The clone operating the console hadn't participated in the physical training. Moreover, Nyx himself had been in a state of recovery when he dismissed the clones. Could that have mitigated some of the effects?

"If all my clones slept at night," Nyx wondered aloud, "would I get four times the recovery?"

Then a more unsettling thought crossed his mind. "If one of them got stabbed and I dismissed the clone, would I get the wound? Or just start bleeding?"

Nyx shuddered at the implications. His ability, while incredibly useful, still held many mysteries. He needed to understand its limits and potential consequences.

"Well," Nyx said, straightening up with renewed determination, "only one way to find out."

Nyx made his way back to the farmhouse, his mind racing with possibilities. Once inside, he surveyed his modest living space. "I only have the one bed," he mused, "but that shouldn't stop us from testing this out."

With a deep breath, Nyx summoned three clones.

"Alright, you three," Nyx addressed his duplicates, "I need you to rest up here in the house. Find comfortable spots and try to sleep or at least relax deeply. We're going to see if your recovery translates to me when I dismiss you."

The clones nodded in understanding, each finding a place to settle down. One stretched out on the bed, another reclined in a chair, and the third made himself comfortable on a makeshift pallet on the floor.

As his clones prepared for their rest, Nyx headed towards his workshop. "While you're recovering, I'll be in the workshop brewing potions for the day. Let's see if we can maximize our efficiency and recovery at the same time."

Nyx paused at the workshop door, looking back at his resting clones. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement, jealousy, and apprehension. This experiment could reveal crucial information about the nature of his ability.

"Well," Nyx said to himself as he entered the workshop, "here's to pushing boundaries and hoping for the best."