Mikhail tried to scream from the intense pain, yet the only thing to come out of his mouth were moist gurgles.
Amir had violently stabbed into his neck multiple times until his rapier had pierced through from one end of his neck and out the other.
He had dropped the spear during that brutal stab-down.
And now, all he could do was claw towards his throat shakily, trying to get the now red blade of the rapier out of his neck. But Amir did him the favor of pulling it out, revealing the ghastly gaping hole.
Blood began oozing out, and Mikhial coughed violently, causing blood to spray out from both his mouth and the hole in his neck. He was choking on his blood.
He laid down relatively silently after the initial shock wore off, knowing that help would arrive soon.
After all, he had seen the cerulean haired maiden healing that one guy's hand.
But as time passed, he heard a few reactions at most. It seemed that no one really paid attention to the fact that he had been in the middle of dying. Hell, he even figured that the resident healer had only just barely noticed him.
The corners of his vision had begun to grow dark as he laid on the ground, choking to death.
But just as he was about to try and beg for help, the woman from before came into his view as she knelt down. His vision was fading, but despite that, he could feel how a pleasant, cooling sensation washed over his neck.
He could feel an annoying sting as the flesh of his neck was weaved back together. And in no time at all, his throat had been closed up. It felt extremely sore, but it was in working order.
But first…
Mikhail coughed several times, spraying his crimson blood up into the air and all over himself, until finally, the blockage was cleared.
He began taking in deep breaths, but his vision continued fading anyway.
Mikhail blacked out from exhaustion…
And moments later, he was slapped awake.
"Not yet, kid. Get on up, you've got another few hours of this to go."
"Aw… Damn…"
Mikhail caught his footing with Atticus' help, using the spear as support as he turned his attention over to Amir, who was in the middle of fighting someone else now.
He narrowed his eyes as he continued watching their fight.
"You can ambush him if you're feeling petty. Remember, this is practical experience training. And in a practical battle, anything goes."
Mikhail nodded.
He was indeed about to be pretty petty.
Mikhail suddenly dashed forward without warning, prepping his spear for a strike. Each of his steps was light and produced little to no sound, yet he still managed to move swiftly.
He readied his spear, reeling it back, and then began dashing with all his might.
Amir kicked his opponent in the ribs and turned to face the approaching threat, but it was too little and too late.
With a cold expression, Mikhail pierced Amir straight through his abdomen, right into his liver.
"Argh, damn you!"
Amir immediately slammed the guard of his rapier into the spear's wooden pole, breaking it and freeing himself from that disadvantageous position.
He then slapped the broken polearm out of his way, throwing Mikhail off his balance before shooting forward and aiming for Mikhail's ribs.
Mikhail's reflex kicked in, and he used the short stave in his hands as a bat, smacking away Amir's rapier before lunging forward and swinging up into the bottom of Amir's jaw.
The short stave splintered apart against the young adult's chin, but it did knock him back by a few steps.
Mikhail took another step forward and used his left foot as a hook, throwing it behind Amir's right ankle before pulling his leg back with tremendous force.
Amir fell backwards, the back of his head crashing into the arid soil. And on top of that, the broken spear piercing through him was pushing back into him, causing the polearm sticking out of him to rip through him some more.
"Damn it!" the young man cursed. "My hair!"
Mikhail's cold expression broke as he looked at him with bemusement.
"You're… Worried about your hair?"
"Yes! I am! Fuck!"
Mikhail was about to snort, but the young man jumped back up while stabbing forward once more!
"Sneaky bastard!"
"You're one to talk!" Amir said while rolling his eyes.
Suddenly, a scythe cut halfway through Amir's neck, while Mikhail felt an intense and unbearable cold invade his neck before he felt the cracking of ice opening his throat up again.
"Don't be so careless," Mikhail heard as he fell to the ground again. It was an unenthusiastic voice with a lackluster inflection.
Mikhail tried to tell her to fuck off, but like before, the only noise coming out of his mouth was moist gurgling.
And after an excruciating short while later, Mikhail and Amir were patched up by the woman. They both slowly got up and then stared at each other with tense expressions.
"So, what's your deal, Amir?"
Mikhail broke the silence, wanting to get to the bottom of the strange farce that had just occurred.
"I should be asking that question! Do you not know how to pace yourself?!"
He huffed.
"I have no idea how you've tempered your body thus far, you squirt, but there's no reason for you to go all out on day one! Everyone heard you screaming like a maniac, you know?! It's very clear that you're new to refinement rooms!"
"So? The longer I stay in there the better, right?"
"Yes, but-"
"Then there's no need to pace myself. I'll suffer more now so that I can relax later."
"Mikhail! That's not sustainable! You'll have no energy to work, or do much of anything after training otherwise!"
Mikhail shook his head, a bit of a smile forming on his face.
"You're an oddly empathetic dude… What was that crap about teaching me a lesson, anyway?"
Amir let out an exasperated groan.
"Your humiliating defeat was supposed to show you why you need to pace yourself!"
Mikhail rolled his eyes right back at him.
"Whatever. I'll get used to it sooner or later."