by Aaron Oster
Aika was only a few inches shorter than he was, but she was far slimmer, making her appear to be much smaller in comparison. Roy slowly got back into his stance, taking a deep breath and hiding a wince at his sore ribs. His bare feet dug into the relatively soft ground, his toes curling in a bit as he prepared to attack.
“You’re doing it again,” Geon said before he could move forward.
Cursing silently to himself, Roy forced his toes to uncurl. He’d been planning to launch a kick, but the tell, even one so insubstantial, would have been more than enough for Aika. She was a 2nd Dan Green-Belt, a full stage of Advancement ahead of his own 1st Dan Orange. If he ever wanted to even land a hit on her, telegraphing his intent wasn’t going to help him.
“You know the kick won’t work now, right?” Geon asked as he shuffled to one side, trying to put the sun in Aika’s eyes.
“Yeah, I know,” Roy replied.
He’d gotten over his hang-ups about communicating with the Core telepathically over three months ago when they’d begun their training with Hermit. This seemed to give Geon an endless amount of delight, as the ‘stupid meat-bag way of communication’ was inefficient.
“What do you suggest?”
“Feint the kick, then try and counter her counter,” Geon replied.
Roy thought about that for a moment then gave a small mental nod – a physical one would have given away his intent. As far as he was concerned, he’d been hit enough times today. Without warning, he shot forward, the ground beneath him exploding in a shower of torn grass and dirt as he used his Movement technique, the Shockwave. During sparring practice, they were the only techniques allowed.
For Roy, it was because his martial combat style, the Unaru Kuma, demanded one to be used properly. It was allowed for Aika only because it would make it harder on Roy. She was only allowed to use the first Stage, not that it really helped him. If Aika really wanted to dodge, she could do so easily and hit him five or six times before he could even react. That was the stark difference between someone at the Green Stage, versus someone at Orange.
He’d gained a lot more control over the Shockwave in the past few months, so he had little trouble aiming correctly. His Core had also been expanded and deepened as he continually absorbed and purified Essence from the Cores he’d taken during the month spent following Hermit around. Even so, he hadn’t moved so much as a single Dan since starting and it was beginning to irk him.
That thought distracted him, and although it was only for an instant, Aika was easily able to slip his clumsy side kick aimed at her waist. She flowed around his leg effortlessly, her body twisting perfectly as she stepped into his guard. Roy could see the attack coming, not that it helped, and was subsequently sent flying as Aika’s palm strike cracked into his chin. Stars danced before his eyes as his vision flashed, and Roy found himself flat on his back once again.
“You’re distracted,” Aika’s voice called, seemingly from far away. “What’s bothering you?”
Despite her not softening her blows, he could still hear the concern in her voice. It was something he’d gotten used to in his time with her, and it helped to keep them close, despite the daily beatings. Aika cared about him, though for what reason, Roy could not fathom. Still, she was the only human he could really call a friend and had been there for him through so much.
“It’s the Advancement,” Roy groaned, pushing himself back to his feet.
“You’re still worried about that?” Aika asked, the exasperation clear in her tone. “In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t advanced either. You need to stop obsessing over it and just focus on your training.”
Roy knew that what she was saying was true and that it came from a good place. Still, with the collection of bruises currently riddling his body and the ringing in his ears from that last attack, he wasn’t exactly in a listening mood. His lips turned down in a frown, then he charged once again, telegraphing a punch aimed at her head.
Aika easily avoided the attack, neatly blocking the knee that had come up, and drove a closed fist into his liver. Roy doubled over in pain, then heard a light swishing sound followed by a tremendous impact against his temple. He was knocked out in less time than he could blink and found himself waking up several minutes later with Aika leaning over him.
“Damn it,” he muttered as she pushed a green Pill between his lips.
“You’re allowing your mind to wander,” Aika admonished, even as she smoothed his hair to the side and prodded at his temple.
Roy hissed in pain, but Aika ignored it, giving him a pointed look that told him that she could tell that he didn’t swallow the Pill. He rolled his eyes, then made an exaggerated swallowing motion. It would aid in his recovery, and Hermit had made it clear that taking it after an injury to the head was mandatory.
Aika wasn’t pulling punches anymore, so attacks from her, even unenhanced, were enough to cause permanent damage. In fact, if Hermit hadn’t shown him a trick to reinforcing his body without the use of an Armorer technique, that last attack – Aika’s roundhouse kick to his head – would have cracked his skull like an overripe melon.
“You pulled that last attack,” Roy accused as he began to sit up.
His head wasn’t throbbing nearly as badly as it should. He’d taken enough blows to the head from her to know at least that much.
“I felt bad…” Aika said, her cheeks coloring a bit in embarrassment.
“Don’t,” Roy replied as he began cycling the Pill’s healing properties through his body. “You’ll only make it worse for me the next time. If Hermit finds out…”
“Hermit already knows.”
Both Roy and Aika winced as a dark figure dropped down from the tree above, landing with his legs folded neatly beneath him. In his hand was the leg of an oversized Beast that he must have caught.
Over the last few months, Roy had seen a stark transformation in the man he’d named Hermit. While he still had that strange dark skin, long tangled black hair, and powerfully built body, his demeanor was completely altered. When they’d first met, Hermit had walked with a slouch. He’d had a permanently bored and lifeless expression that clouded his features. Now, he walked with a straight back, his eyes sharp and calculating, and a near-constant look of disapproval was painted across his face.
“Damn,” Aika whispered, giving Roy a guilty look.
“You know the punishment,” Hermit said simply, taking another bite of the oversized leg.
“Yes, sir,” Roy and Aika said, getting back to their feet.
Roy dropped his arms to the sides and did his best to keep his body relaxed and loose. This was going to hurt, but he’d dealt with this punishment enough times to know that tightening up would only make it worse. Aika took up a fighting stance before him. She hated this even more than he did, which he found to be ironic. Apparently, it was something that kept her up for days on end after having to do it, though that was of little comfort to him as her muscles tightened up.
“Sorry,” she mouthed, the amount of guilt written across her face almost unbearable to look at.
Roy didn’t have any time to reply as Aika stepped forward, then twisted her whole body around in a three-hundred and sixty-degree pivot. Her back leg came whistling around, soaring six feet into the air on a collision course with his head. He only had a second to admire the girl’s ridiculous flexibility before her foot connected and he was knocked out for the second time.
This time, when he came to, it was with the familiar splitting headache, accompanied by soreness in his side that told him he’d landed hard enough to break something. If one were to think it was dangerous for a 2nd Dan Green-Belt to strike a 1st Dan Orange in the head with a spinning hook kick, they would be absolutely right. Under normal circumstances, even with Roy’s enforcement of his skull, the blow would undoubtedly have killed him.
That was why Hermit was always around to watch when this happened. Roy still wasn’t sure what the man did to stop the attack from ending his life, bu
t when it was all said and done, he was in too much pain to care.
“I hope you’ll think twice about holding back next time, Aika,” Hermit’s voice said from off to his right. “I don’t like having to keep punishing you like this.”
“Yes, sir,” Aika said as she pushed another pill into his mouth.
“Punish her?” Roy asked indignantly. “What about me?”
“I believe,” Geon answered, “that the idea is to make her feel too guilty to hold back. If she were to hit you normally, you’d be in pain, but not nearly as much as you are now.”
Roy thought about that quietly as Aika smoothed his hair back once again and prodded at his temple. It made sense in a sick way when he thought about it, but he was surprised he hadn’t figured it out until now. Then again, they’d likely discussed this when he was unconscious, and seeing as he was the one getting hammered in the skull, he’d just assumed that the punishment was for him.
“How are you feeling?” Aika asked.
Roy cracked an eye and saw her hazy form swimming in and out of focus. His head was cradled in her lap, which felt oddly nice and but for the splitting headache, he might have actually enjoyed it.
“Head hurts,” he muttered. “Ribs, too.”
“Sorry about that,” Aika replied. “You hit a rock hidden in the grass when you fell, and it was enough to fracture a couple of your ribs.”
“At least they’re not broken,” Roy said with a grimace.
A shadow fell over his face then, and he craned his neck to the side just in time to feel a wet and very cold nose press into his cheek.
“Hurt?” The slightly growling feminine voice sounded in his mind.
“I’ll be fine,” Roy replied, reaching up to stroke at the fur beneath her chin.
The oversized black ferret had advanced all the way to 4th Dan Orange and was on the verge of moving to Green, according to Hermit. Ferry had learned to communicate in single words over the last couple of months, though her vocabulary was still quite limited. Geon was still stuck as a translator, but Hermit had told them that once she Advanced to Green, she’d become far more intelligent.
The ferret continued pushing at him with her nose, a small whining sound coming deep from her throat.
“He’ll be alright in a few minutes, don’t you worry about that,” Aika assured her, allowing Roy to relax his head back into her lap.
It was quiet for a time – Hermit always allowed them a half-hour after this particular punishment – and Roy enjoyed the silence. He also enjoyed being able to feel all the pain receding, his headache and side pain growing more and more muted as he cycled the new and more potent Recovery Pill. Geon remained silent as well, knowing how Roy got after a blow like that to the head, and Aika hummed quietly to herself as she ran her fingers through his hair.
He didn’t know why she did this, and though he’d never admit as much out loud, it felt quite nice. He enjoyed the way her fingers toyed with his hair and the way her nails lightly scraped over his aching scalp, sending chills down his spine. It was such an odd sensation, one that he simply could not place. No one back in the Shah Clan had ever done anything like this to him.
If there ever was any physical contact between him and another clan member, it normally consisted of a beating of some sort. It was so strange to him that Aika, who was stronger than anyone in the Shah Clan, could have such a gentle touch.
Roy found his muscles unclenching and his body relaxing as Aika continued to hum, her fingers still stroking, and her lap beneath his head, warm and soft. He wondered if he might actually fall asleep like this, as it was past five in the evening and he’d been training for most of the day. He was suddenly very tired and opened his mouth to yawn widely.
“Alright. You’ve had enough time to rest. On to technique training.”
Aika jerked beneath him as Hermit’s voice broke through the silence, apparently startling her. Her fingers immediately stopped their movement, and the tune she’d been humming abruptly broke off.
“Yes, sir,” she called, gently removing Roy’s head from her lap and placing it on the ground.
She then stood quickly and jogged off.
2
Roy was feeling much better now – the Pill was working as intended – though he was annoyed that Hermit had ruined such a peaceful moment. As he rose into a sitting position, he caught a glimpse of Aika’s back as she disappeared into the trees. The back of her neck was red and flushed, and he had to wonder if she was upset that the peace was broken or if she was embarrassed for some reason.
They did their technique training in separate places, so Roy only had to assume that she was eager to get the day’s training over with, as this was the least physically intensive technique session of the week. It was only an hour long today, due to the fact that sparring took up most of the day on Fouthday.
Hermit had set it up in a way so as to ensure that they never did the same sort of intensive training two days in a row. For example, on Firstday, they focused on endurance training. That meant a lot of running and physical exertion designed to keep them constantly out of breath and straining. Even Aika, who’d achieved her Core-Body, labored beneath Hermit’s brutal training regimen. They did as they were told, as it was clear that Hermit knew what he was doing and had reasons for why he did things the way he did.
Neither of them really knew who he was or where he’d come from, but they knew he was strong. He was a Base Gray-Belt, the Belt above Brown, which apparently came after Gold. Hermit had said that Black-Belt came after Gray, and even among the Seven Great Clans of this continent, which was apparently called Safaia, there was not a single Black-Belt among them. At least, not as far as he knew.
When Roy had asked more about the Seven Great Clans, Hermit had simply stated that they were the superpowers of the continent, containing the most powerful Martial Artists, had the most wealth and influence, and basically ruled of Safaia in its entirety. The Crater and Waterwood, where he’d come from, was apparently located in an area called the Outer Edge, a neutral zone that no clan claimed as their own.
Roy still wondered how he’d ended up there, especially with how he looked compared to the others. When he’d asked Hermit if he’d ever heard of his family name, the man had simply shrugged, saying that there were a lot of clans out there, and that he didn’t know them all. Roy’s thoughts trailed off as Hermit stepped into view, his arms folded over his chest and a frown touching his lips.
Roy knew what the man was trying to convey. He was still sitting when he should have been on his feet, running through the exercises. The man didn’t have to say a thing, but Roy was on his feet in an instant. No matter the fact that he never physically punished him, the increase in his workload would be punishment enough. Had Hermit’s methods not been as effective as they were, Roy probably would have run off by now or quit.
Despite the fact that he was still the same stage as he was three months ago, his control, capacity technique, and overall martial skill had all improved greatly.
“Thirty Exploding Fists,” Hermit said, folding his arms.
He usually only had to do fifteen, but Roy knew better than to complain. Moving to a nearby tree, he set himself into his stance and allowed Essence to begin flowing through him. The golden Power Essence flowed out of his Core, through his channels, and into his fists as he twisted his hips and delivered the first strike.
The Exploding Fist was a Physical technique, one that needed to make physical contact to work. His fist struck the rough bark of the blue tree, and there was a muffled boom as the Power Essence exploded in a small bubble, tearing a chunk from the bark. Roy twisted his hips the other way, delivering another punch in the same unhurried fashion as before. Another boom tore a chunk of bark from the tree, and Roy continued on with his training.
This exercise wasn’t about expelling as much power as possible but maintaining control at all times. That was why he never used the second stage of this technique, which he’d called the Exploding
Fist-Increase. With that technique, each successive strike carried with it more force, and subsequentially, cost more Essence.
His fist struck for the thirtieth time, and Roy stepped back, breathing evenly and admiring the sizable dent he’d left in the trunk.
“Fifty rapid-shifts using the Shockwave,” Hermit said, appearing before him as soon as he stepped back.
He’d gone to check in on Aika, but somehow always managed to make it back to Roy right as he finished his current exercise. Roy let out a breath, but didn’t say anything, instead using his skill and taking off through the trees.
Essence burned through him in a loop, supporting his back and keeping it straight, even as he stepped hard to his right, changing his direction by a sharp ninety-degree turn. This was another of his exercises, and one that had finally brought the unruly Shockwave under control. Hermit had him constantly pulling sharp turns or dangerous maneuvers while the skill was active. At first, this had resulted in broken bones and some unspeakably horrific injuries. He was now able to make the turns with only minimal effort, though Hermit still insisted he continue with the exercises.
“I wonder when you’ll find the second stage of this technique,” Geon said as he whipped around a tree and ran the opposite direction.
“After I figure out how to use a Containment or Armorer technique,” he shot back.
“Will that be before or after you kill the Beast King?” Geon asked.
“Probably before, seeing as he’d wipe the floor with me as I am now,” Roy replied, trying desperately to keep the annoyance from his voice.
Geon was still single-mindedly bloodthirsty in his path for revenge against those who had wronged him. Long before Roy had even been born, the Beast King of the Crater and another person called the Supreme of Cloying Darkness had somehow stolen Geon’s power and locked him at the Yellow Stage forever. It was only after he’d merged with Roy that the Dungeon Core was able to break through that wall, though it had taken Roy nearly a year to get where he was now.
