by Aaron Oster
Their time was running out, and though Morgan knew that much, he didn’t know exactly how little they had remaining. Gold had sensed the breakthrough some weeks ago, which meant that the first scouts were already inside the Five Kingdoms. He couldn’t do anything about it, as interfering would see him dead once more, so he simply pushed Morgan even harder.
The ground beside him exploded, his body being pelted and showered with high-speed debris, stones, and earth.
“Come on! Are you even trying?” Gold asked as Morgan dug himself out of the trench.
“I’d have a much easier time if you weren’t making me wear this,” Morgan replied, his voice calm and even.
“And what would be the point of removing it?” Gold asked in turn. “The whole point of training is to make it challenging. Now stop being a little bitch and go attack that freaking drake!”
Morgan didn’t reply, simply taking off and clashing with said drake once more. Even now, after two years of this, it was still unnerving to see Morgan so emotionally flat. Gold knew he’d been given the ability to turn his emotions off at will, and though he tried to get him to ease up on using it, even a little, Morgan had adamantly refused.
It’s just plain creepy, Gold thought as he watched Morgan’s expression.
He seemed completely calm and flat, even as he strove to cave the massive drake’s head in. He still couldn’t land a single blow, as wearing a chain weighing fifteen tons tended to slow one down, but it had been made clear that Lumia, the drake in question, wouldn’t be able to hit Morgan if he wore anything less. Besides, he really was being too obvious in his attacks.
“Faster, you moron!” Gold yelled as Lumia sent Morgan through another mountain. “I’ve seen grass grow faster than you move!”
Gold immediately regretted that last insult as soon as it left his lips. Of all his insults, that one was definitely not a keeper. Morgan probably hadn’t heard it anyway, as he was too busy digging himself out of a mountain. The look that Lumia shot Gold told him that he’d be hearing about it later.
You win some, you lose some, Gold thought with a shrug. At least he’d get to enjoy seeing Morgan smacked around some more before he found out. His bad insults were always taunted and insulted right back. Morgan seemed to take pleasure in that, even if he enjoyed nothing else.
***
“Enough! You’re done for today. I can’t watch another minute of this shit. It’s embarrassing!”
Morgan halted mid-swing, his staff poised to strike Lumia for the first time since he’d been saddled with the fifteen-ton chain. He debated continuing, knowing that Gold had only called a stop so he’d end the day without a single victory. Still, he understood the tactic and dismissed the staff, the violet energy fading into nothingness.
“Are you alright?” Lumia asked, turning in midair to affix him with one of her massive eyes.
“Yeah,” Morgan replied. “Just a bit sore.”
Lumia’s ability to talk was nothing new. Even when they’d first met, she’d had some ability to understand and communicate. Their time spent together had only strengthened her, both in body and intelligence. The cobalt-mithril drake had increased in size and mass, her body now over fifty feet long.
The glittering silvery-blue scales contrasted beautifully with her brilliant emerald eyes, and to this day, Morgan did not once regret befriending her. Her majesty and beauty were unmatched by any beast, and he had to tell her, frequently. Lumia enjoyed flattery very much and demanded a lot of compliments. Aside from that one small flaw, she had been the perfect companion over the last couple of years.
She was his confidant, aide, and best friend. Had someone told him that a massive beast would have such a dear place in his heart just a few years ago, he’d have laughed. Now, though, he had a much better appreciation for beasts than he had before. He’d still killed plenty of others over his years of training, but he had a lot more respect for these creatures now than he’d had before.
“If you don’t get your pansy ass down here in the next minute, I’m eating all the food!”
Gold’s voice echoed up, carrying the impressive three-hundred feet without any loss of volume. Morgan took this threat very seriously and immediately plummeted to the ground. He barely felt the impact as he landed, slamming into the ground with enough force to create yet another crater.
“Take that damned thing off!” Gold spluttered, brushing dirt and grime from his face and hair.
Despite what Gold thought, Morgan hadn’t actually switched off his emotions. He’d merely muted them. This way, he wouldn’t be hit so hard when he eventually turned them back on entirely. He also didn’t want to forget what he was fighting for.
An image of Sarah, her teeth gleaming brightly with a mischievous grin, flashed through his mind, and Morgan felt a small pang in his chest. It wasn’t nearly the raging storm of pain and loss he’d normally be feeling, even after all this time. If there was one thing he was grateful for, it was the ability to stay focused.
Lumia drifted down, her body shrinking and morphing. By the time she landed next to him, she carried a vaguely humanoid shape. This transformation skill had been unlocked when she’d reached rank 60 a few months ago. She had two shapes besides her default one that she could currently take — this one and one more suited for traveling.
This form made it easier for her to talk, so it was the one she chose to use when they were not in battle. She was still quite large, nearly ten feet tall, and maintained a mostly lizard-like appearance. Her front paws took on the general shape of hands, giving her the ability to hold things. Her features also became less harsh, and her muzzle got smaller. Still, she was completely covered in scales, her wings and tail remained, and she maintained no visual tells of being female unless one either knew or looked where they definitely should not.
“What are we having tonight?” she asked, her voice much lighter than the deep rumble she had in her drake form.
“Mud pies,” Gold replied sourly, still brushing at his robes.
“Someone’s just sour that they’re losing their touch,” Morgan said with a grunt as he hoisted the chain over his shoulders and dropped them to the ground.
Gold barely managed to catch them, transporting them into their holding space before they burrowed into the soft earth.
Morgan groaned, twisting his shoulders from side to side and feeling a series of pops as his sore muscles began to relax. Carrying that much weight was a serious burden, even for someone as strong as him. Every time he took them off, he felt very strange. It was as though his body thought he should still weigh that much and was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that it didn’t.
This left him with the strange sensation of being light as air, but having his feet dig into the ground under all the imagined weight.
“Haven’t lost my touch,” Gold muttered. “Just having an off day.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” Morgan said, sitting down and reaching over to one of the plates Gold had prepared. “I’ll need a serious rubdown after this. I can already feel my muscles cramping up.”
“Can you please not call it that?” Gold asked with a theatrical shiver. “It makes it sound so creepy.”
That was precisely why Morgan continued using that terminology. Gold spent his days insulting him, so Morgan only thought it fair to make him uncomfortable.
“Can’t Lumia just do it instead?” Gold asked, turning to the drake.
“Sure,” Lumia replied through a mouthful of bloody meat. “Find a way to get rid of these, and I’ll gladly do it instead.”
She twiddled her fingers, each tipped by eight-inch serrated claws, to which Gold stuck out his tongue. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion, so Lumia already had an answer ready to go. Though Gold surmised she might be able to retract the claws once her skill was upgraded, it would be a substantial cost to do so. There were simply too many more useful skills to grow, and no one was going to tell a drake how to allocate the energy she rece
ived.
Skill growth was one of the main things that had changed over his time here. Instead of paying attribute points or having them grow naturally as he grew in rank, skills could now only be upgraded by spending energy, much as one would use it to increase their rank. The ability to even receive attribute points had vanished as well, leaving backbreaking work and rigorous training to be the only ways to increase any attribute. This was why Morgan spent so much time being sent through mountains by Lumia.
“We need to talk about your training today…” Gold began speaking, only to have Morgan hold up a hand.
“After we eat. You can talk to me about training all you want while you’re giving me that rubdown you owe me.”
Gold shivered once more, and Morgan hid a grin behind the roasted leg of whatever beast Gold had killed and cooked for them. As much as Gold enjoyed insulting him, Morgan enjoyed making him feel uncomfortable. Small as that joy was, it was one of the few things that made him smile these days.
3
“Your movements are still too obvious,” Gold said, repeating his earlier statement as he increased the pressure in the center of Morgan’s back.
“How so?” Morgan asked with a grunt, feeling Gold pull back harder on both arms.
Gold was helping him stretch before his rubdown — or as Gold liked to call it, physical therapy. This was the time when he liked to analyze his day’s training and work to improve on it for the days ahead.
“You’re still telegraphing your attacks too much,” Gold replied, changing the angle and pulling his back to one side.
“It’s not exactly easy to move while wearing that thing,” Morgan said. “I don’t exactly have any problems while fighting without the chain, so I don’t see the problem. It’s not like I’m going to be going into battle with that thing on.”
It was true that Gold never really saw any reason to have to explain things to him. Most of the time, he’d just tell Morgan to do something, and he’d do it. Now, when he was simply increasing the weight and asking him to adapt, Morgan didn’t really see a whole lot of improvement. He could move a bit better when the chains were off, but the gains were so minimal that it hardly seemed worth the time.
If Morgan wanted to see some real gains, Gold should double or triple the weight. This way, he’d have a hard time even moving. At least he’d be training his Strength at the same time. But with fifteen tons, he was being slowed just enough to make it difficult, without making it impossible.
“Very well,” Gold replied, pulling his body to the other side and holding him there. “I suppose now’s a good a time as any to explain the point of the exercise.”
Morgan let out a breath, feeling the muscles in his back and side straining as Gold increased the pressure. Still, Gold’s explanation was more than enough to block out the discomfort.
“As I’ve been telling you for the past two years, the creatures living on the other side of the barrier are much stronger. That’s not to say they had any advantages over the humans, but that they simply dedicated themselves to their individual crafts more readily. They were at peace, growing in strength, while the humans were constantly bickering and killing one another.
“This resulted in an average rank of about 15, versus the human’s 5. That’s just the average, of course, as their number of powerful supers and mages far outstrips that of humans. Now, I know we’ve had some warning and that the average ranks have been raised, but they will have had received the same warning. Their strength grows at a slower rate, but they will be stronger.
“Their fighters have had more time to hone their skill and precision. Their crafters had longer to perfect their constructs and their scholars, more time to strategize. In other words, they’re better in every way. So, to compensate, we’re having you train to perfect the art of war. Your fighting style will be foreign to them, but movements and patterns always become obvious in a prolonged fight. And that brings us to the reason I have you continuously fight with just enough weight to hamper you.”
“Ah, I think I finally understand,” Morgan grunted as Gold pulled even harder.
No one else could help him stretch this way. At least, not anyone he knew. At this point, his muscles were so tough that any normal human would have a hard time even lifting one of his arms. His body was so dense, and his muscles were so powerful and taut, that it took a tremendous amount of power to even move him. The last time he’d had someone other than Gold work on him had been over two years ago when Katherine had offered him a massage, and he doubted that even she, with her massive Strength, could loosen him up now.
“You understand? Go on, then. Explain,” Gold said, loosening his grip and helping Morgan come back to a central sitting position.
“I do understand. At least, I think I do,” Morgan replied, stretching his legs out straight and reaching for his toes.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Gold said, placing his hands on Morgan’s shoulders and pushing forward.
“For the past few years, I’ve always been the strongest,” Morgan began. “No matter the fight I went into, I went in with the knowledge that I was likely the stronger party. Even when facing more powerful beasts, I went in with an advantage. No matter how careful someone is, fighting for so long with that sort of knowledge tends to breed a certain sense of overconfidence.
“I first found this out when I lost that fight to Hilda. Though I didn’t really lose in the sense of being beaten, I did lose by the parameters set before the match began. My hand to hand skills had grown sloppy, and it cost me the match. It taught me a valuable lesson, one that had stuck with me.”
“Admirable that you took such a lesson to heart,” Gold said. “Still doesn’t answer the question, though.”
Morgan, bent almost double, breathed out hard, his fingertips pressing the floor in front of his toes and getting closer to the ground with each passing second.
“The answer is pretty obvious now that you’ve given me all the clues,” he continued. “You want me to get used to fighting at a disadvantage again. So, the chains allow me to move, but in a way that I’m always weaker than my opponent. Of course, if you’d let me use any of my skills, it would be a different story.”
“But that would defeat the whole purpose of the exercise,” Gold finished. “And yes, you have guessed correctly, but not completely. Yes, I want you to fight at a disadvantage, but I also want you to learn to keep your movements hidden from your opponent. You can still take steps to increase your chances of victory, even when fighting someone faster or stronger than you.
“The first step is to always be unpredictable. If your opponent cannot guess your next move, they’ll be more cautious while fighting you, which will give you more time to find theirs.”
Morgan groaned as Gold pushed down one last time, forcing his palms to the ground. It felt as though his muscles were about to snap, his bones creaking ominously along with the movement. From experience, Morgan knew this wouldn’t happen. His body was made of tougher stuff, and this sort of stretching was necessary to keep him limber and fit.
Women were naturally more flexible than men, and for someone like him who had a body denser than steel, flexibility was almost as important as power. Neither of them spoke for the next thirty seconds as Gold held him there, allowing Morgan to breathe and try not to pass out. This stretch was painful, as it pulled at all the muscles in his back and the backs of his legs. It was one of the least pleasant stretches imaginable, but Morgan bore it with the same stoicism as most else.
Gold let him up slowly, Morgan blowing out a long breath as the pressure eased, sitting back up to his central position once again. His body, which had mostly dried of sweat after the exercise, was now nice and warm once more.
“Did you have to be so rough?” Morgan complained as he rolled onto his stomach.
“Quit your whining,” Gold said, kneeling next to him. “Normal people don’t get to break for a meal right after intense exercise and then stretch. In fact, normal peop
le would probably throw up anything they attempted to eat after a similar amount of physical exertion.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just make with the rubbing and stop with the talking,” Morgan replied, hiding a grin.
He was sure Gold was shuddering once again, which made any insult worth taking. The smile quickly slipped from his lips when Gold’s elbow dug directly into his spine in way of retaliation.
“Whoops!” Gold said, mock concern in his voice. “My arm slipped. Hope I didn’t hurt you or anything.”
Morgan chose not to reply, deciding to steer the subject back to his training. He didn’t much feel like being jabbed in the spine again, as it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“You were explaining about minimizing movement while fighting. It’s easy enough to do unburdened, but explain how I’m supposed to do that with something as heavy and bulky as that chain wrapped around my chest.”
For the past two years, Gold had been instructing him in a new form of martial combat, one that focused on a combination of aerial and ground fighting. Seeing as Morgan had never actually learned to fight while flying, it turned out he hadn’t been properly utilizing his time in the sky. He learned to move much more efficiently and had added vast sums of knowledge to his repertoire. Still, this part eluded him.
In the air, the path you took would be abundantly obvious, no matter what you did. Unless he were to fly in an erratic zigzag pattern like a drunken idiot, his trajectory could be traced every time.
“Your problem is that you’re still thinking in a domed pattern instead of the sphere.”
Ah yes, Morgan thought, the sphere.
This was one of the first lessons Gold had imparted about aerial combat. “When on the ground,” he had said, “you can only feasibly be attacked in a domed pattern. Meaning, you can expect attacks from every direction, except below — thus the dome. On the ground, you can also find obstacles to lessen the points of impact and funnel your opponent into an obvious direction of attack.”
