Ahmed had long finished his trial fighting through the fifth set to the ninth set, the difficulty had spiked at an alarming rate.
Before the spike he had been overwhelming his foes with his superior body when surpassed by skill, with their increase in body however this advantage was ripped away from him.
The tables turned as he was bullied both physically and in terms of skill, he grit his teeth and persevered but ultimately lost.
It was then that he finally knew just how painful punishments can be, for a full twelve hours he was struck by controlled bolts of lighting that were strong enough to injure, paralyze and electrocute him but not strong enough to kill him.
He had lost at least once in all his fights from the fifth set of ten onwards, the punishments changed with every failure, sometimes he was plunged into the cold depths of water, his arms and legs restricted until he was on the verge of death.
There was a time he was thrown into a scorching pit of magma, he felt his body burn layer by layer, he could smell it cook over the pungent sulphur and ash.
He had been thrown into a blizzard where his lips turned blue, his skin cracked, his lungs froze as every breath became laboured and painful, his heart nearly stopped beating before he was brought out of the punishment zone.
To say he suffered would be an understatement, he steeled himself as he fought the last one of the combatants, he did not wish to know what sort of punishment he would face should he loose.
He firmly planted his feet onto the ground before launching himself towards the fully armoured lady.
He was facing of against a Dame of high skill and immensely strong body, he had already received several blows to the face, his nose had already been broken, his lip split, his eye swollen his left wrist broken and his right thigh pierced.
Throughout the various fights he had been shown time and time again just how weak he was, he had won at the end but only after risking his life, he had at an unknown time abandoned the natural instinct people would have fo survive.
This wasn't an enlightenment of sorts but mearly his desperation to not experience the punishments once more, he could theoretically die within the trials but after undergoing his punishment he would 'revive'.
This had happened too many times for him to count to the point where he numbed his instincts to survive and just fought like there was no tomorrow.
Aldram had been damaged and forced into a state of inactivity, so was Darra, the armor had suffered too many times and was currently trying to remold itself.
Standing half naked, Ahmed huffed and puffed as he clenched his fists reading himself for yet another exchange.
The Dame as chivalrous as those who bore her title, dropped her sword and lowered her stance as she waited for him to make his move.
"Are you looking down on me?!" Ahmed's eyes glowed in rage as he dove towards his enemy, he threw his right followed by a left jab and a low sweep all of which were seen, dodged and countered.
The Dame grabbed him by his face and bashed him to the ground over and over before throwing him to a distance, before he could even land however he was met with a knee to the abdomen that flung him upwards.
The Dame unrelenting grabbed him by the foot and banged him from left to right and back over and over, before finally lifting the unresponsive youth by his hair, the Dame took out a dagger from its boot and beheaded the youth.
****
Ahmed woke up gasping for air, he didn't even need to look around to know what had transpired.
'I failed,' he lamented as he clenched his fists, tears streamed down his face as he finally broke down banging the floor with all his might while shouting Why.
Despite asking this he himself knew the answer, he was overpowered, overwhelmed and outmatched.
His arts had been stuck on a bottle neck that refused to budge despite him strengthening his body.
He had ran out of beast cores and Ambrosia vials, nutritious solutions wouldn't help him unless fatigued but even that was no longer proving to be a solution, he truly did not know how to win.
He got out of his head and finally looked around after calming himself, he wiped of the lingering tears and stood up to his full height.
He stood in a dark space, devoid of light, he couldn't even see a meter ahead of him let alone his own hands.
He took a few steps aimlessly as he once again let his thoughts wander, he questioned himself as he reviewing his battles, what did I do wrong, what can I change, what can I do differently?
Various questions with various different answers flowed into his mind, he thought back to the arts he was using, Blade Monarch arts.
He had picked the said arts inorder to maximize the shifter ability of his weapon, he had initially wanted an all round art but was told it was far above him.
To be the master of all blades a warrior must begin with one.
These were the first words he read when he opened the manual, he had brushed it off thinking the creator didn't know him but now however....
How well do I know how to wield the sword? No, how well do I know how to fight without my instincts guiding me?
He contemplated briefly before coming to a conclusion, he didn't.
He didn't know how to fight, he just moved how he felt, what felt natural to him is what he did.
The only weapon he could say to have trained was the bow, he had practiced the bow for as long as he knew, yes he knew how to use a sword but could he really wield it?
Was there really a difference between using and wielding a weapon?
His thoughts wandered to his conversation to the voice that tested his affinities.
"Everyone can use mana because they are attuned to it but every few have an affinity to it." He mumbled as his eyes flashed in understanding.
He was attuned to the sword and various weapons but ultimately he had an affinity towards fighting and battle, of the weapons he was attuned with the bow stood at the top.
"I see, now I know." He smiled as the black space shattered and his consciousness returned to his body.
He took out a vial of nutritious solution and chugged it down before rising to his feet, another advantage of dying well despite coming back alive, was that his body would be healed.
A full heal that seemingly repaired his body, broken bones, torn muscles, dislocations, separations all were restored.
He willed Aldram to turn into a bow and his armor into a pair of gauntlets, greaves and a leather breastplate.
His eyes glowed with determination as he pulled the bow string and shot his arrow at the Dame.
He shot one, knocked another while always being on his feet, he never stopped his legs or hands as he maintained a distance between them, his focus heightened and sharpened to the point where fell into the zone.
The Zone was a state where warriors, Mages or any awakened following whichever path became deeply engrossed in whatever they were doing to the point where the world blurred and lost color.
Mana, the elusive ethereal energy Ahmed always felt could control but always seemed to spill out his hand answered his call as they coated his arrows with their dim blue glow.
His body was encased with waves of mana to the point where any of his movements invoked a reaction from the element.
He had lost track of time, of how many arrows he had shot, of what he was facing and simply embarrassed the moment, he closed his eyes and let his body do whatever it willed as he slumbered within the embrace of mana.