(Huff)
(Huff)
Another day, more reps, constant training. The weights increased whenever the resistance decreased. Tension, stress on the muscles. This was where strength came from. His punches became stronger, even faster, each trust creating a visible ripple mid-air.
Practicing technique led to better accuracy, increasing lethality. The threat of a critical injury pulled the opponent into his rhythm, allowed him full control over the battle.
He would shadow spar with the HFS, the Hell Forged Rogue, the Hell Forged Magician, and the pale young lady. They all had different attack methods, styles, and patterns.
It helped him understand his own flaws, helped him close them up.
Slowly by slowly, his muscles became denser, more ripped, gained definition, but still remained incredibly compact.
As he crossed paths with other Cadets, they would request spars with him. He used these encounters to practice strength distribution and control. If he fatally injured them, that would be a problem.
He knew they put in the work, yet their intricacies seemed so simple to him. At worst, he leaned out of the way every time.
As word spread, more and more people came to challenge him. Some to compare, some to purely satisfy their interest. They acknowledged the idea that people could naturally be born to fit really well at something, but the problem was before and after.
Zero to hero in a few months was not realistic. That was a few years.
There was one way to test to see if the Cadet was a natty or not.
[Somewhere On Base, Military Zone 5, Military Sector 25]
A young man was sparring with a young woman. Raw punches, flashes of blue light, the gunshots here and there. Neither backed down or had an advantage. The more the opponent continued to navigate a maze of bullets, the more it wore them down.
If it weren't for the exhaustive pool of stamina, they would've long lost.
"Enough!"
"Had enough?"
"The training was excellent, thank you."
"No worries. It's rare to find a soldier who can contend with a WMR."
"Say. I heard that WMRs are called Enchanters and Supernatural Entities out there."
"Yeah. That's true. There are a few different ways to utilize an innate trait and infinite amount of ways to express the properties of the trait."
"How did it feel when you discovered your own trait?"
"Honestly, quite surreal. I literally felt this throbbing in the bottom of my soul. I saw images of a magical kingdom. People casting spells. I knew at the point that I was a Magician. I tried casting those spells, despite not understanding anything, and it worked.
———|
The hard part was figuring out how to translate that into shooting. I tapped the trigger the same way I moved my hands, and something happened. I was exhilarated"
"That's amazing. All I saw was a world crumbling before my eyes. I took a step, and then it fell. It was like the world was so unstable that is was no different from standing still. I put in the effort to try and find it again. Every day. Reps and more reps. Discipline and respect.
———|
Have you heard about that Cadet? Zero and a hero within a few months. How long have I been here? A few years? I was outclassed within a few months? It sounds crazy the more I hear it."
"Many are in the same boat as you. He's monstrous."
"That's what makes it worse. If he was slightly better than one of us. I would accept that. He's better than most of us."
"You're pretty strong right? You can hold your own."
"Can't he effortlessly defeat a WMR with his pure strength alone?"
"It's best not to compare yourself with a monster. Find an easy target and aim for that. Small gains build up. Looking at an impossible goal makes you complacent."
"I know. I'm not comparing the results though. I'm comparing time used to achieve the results."
"I definitely understand the sentiment."
"How did he do it? I want to now. I heard he's nice."
"You want to meet him?"
"Why not?"
"You're not going to cause trouble are you?"
(Silence)
(Sigh)
"If I ever meet him on the battlefield and I needed help, better to be friends than enemies for no good reason."
"I'll go with you to ask for a friendly spar then."
"Really, thanks!"
"That's what friends are for. That's what the military is for."
——|——|—|—|——|——
Sikhail GodFiend weaved in and out, thrusting and jabbing when he suddenly paused and turned around.
Two people, a young man and woman were watching him. They looked surprised that he sensed them. One of the battle-suits was slightly blue. Other one was standard issue.
"You are Cadet GodFiend, the monstrous Cadet?" the young man asked.
The young man had a fierce expression about him. He wasn't the kind to back down. He worked hard, proved himself through meritorious deeds. The multitude of scars meant he wasn't afraid of getting up in your face. He didn't shy away from light injuries. Back straight, confident, determined, resolved.
"You want to spar?" Sikhail responded with a nod.
"Please!" the young man replied.
"Alright," Sikhail agreed.
They got into position as the young man assumed a one-two street brawl stance.
"Whenever you're ready," Sikhail suggested.
The young man nodded then rushed. Sikhail was waiting when his blood began to slow down. A prickly sensation traveled through his veins as the hairs on his skin fluttered a little. The flow of his breathing kept his heart beating steadily, melting away the frosty feeling.
The young man wasn't so lucky. Sluggish movements to the point of being frozen. The breathing had stopped even as the pupils dilated.
He focused his gaze in the distance and identified the source. A young man, familiar. Flashbacks. The assessment, standing in the corner. Leader-like qualities. Those eyes. One of the 25 people. He was holding a beretta in his hand.
Their gazes locked as the young man smiled amicably.
"I heard you came back a few days ago. Dekadel, " the young man stated in the form of a question, voice loud, clear, and omni-directional.
Sikhail nodded, but otherwise looked a bit carefree.
"I'm sorry for disturbing your spar. I just saw someone I recognized. I'll reign in my enthusiasm," Dekadel directed his apology to the young man as the overbearing aura disappeared.
"No worries. No worries," the young man smiled awkwardly as he shook it off.
"Ready whenever you are," Sikhail said.
The young man turned to look at the visitor. Calm and peaceful eyes yet rock-solid demeanor.
Strong!
The young had no confidence in facing this person at all. He seemed to be from the military? Was he a soldier here? What kind of terrifying training did he go put himself on? He just paid attention and there was already a hope-crushing pressure on him!
'Forget it. Forget it. Small steps at a time,' the young man thought.
When they got into position and were ready, Sikhail watched as the young man charged at him. A one-two.
But it wasn't straight on.
It was a vertical combination punch. A one-two but a different way of doing it.
He reached out to deflect the top punch, but noticed the second was closer despite the fact that it was thrown later. No room to dodge so he hardened his abs and took the blow. The force hit his defense, piled up, then rebounded back into the fist.
The young man was startled after getting pushed back, but he followed it up with a solid thrust at the chest. His fist was blocked by an elbow as another one-two punch as thrown. It was a regular one this time, but he easily met it.
The powerful rebounding force cause the young man to stagger back yet again.
The young man breathed in and out then rushed again, but circled him this time.
Sikhail did not turn to track his opponent, so his opponent capitalized on it instead. A fast kick at his head finally caused him to turn. As he reached out to grab the leg, there was a sonic boom… combined with something else.
Tiny pellets… bullets…!
The sonic boom masked the bullets.
A phantom bathed in a mist-green aura appeared behind him as time slowed down. He pulled out his handgun, aimed, focused, searched for something.
(Click)
A laser-like beam dove into the bullets as they begun to fall apart.
His free hand grabbed the leg while the shot harmlessly bounced off him.
He slammed the leg, and the body followed, directly into the ground.
(Silence)
The young man twitched after a while.
(Cough)
The young man got up, a bitter smile on his face.
"Your reactions are too fast. It's not necessary to continue sparring," the young man explained.
Sikhail nodded as they saluted each other.
The young man and his friend left after taking one final look at the Cadet and the mysterious soldier.
"Cadet Sikhail GodFiend. Could I trouble you for another spar?" Dekadel asked.
"Sure," Sikhail nodded.
Actual spars benefited him hundreds of times more than shadow sparring, so he would accept them all without hesitation.
"That move earlier caught me off guard. The body moves so fast and viciously that it can hide the sound of a shot. How did you react to it?" Dekadel asked.