Krist tightened his grip on the wooden swords, the weight of Blake's words pressing down on him like a storm cloud. "So, what do I do? Stop sparring? Avoid anything to do with essence until I figure this out?"
Delaney shook his head, a serious expression settling over his face. "No. You train. You learn to control it. I'm almost certain this is happening because of that rejuvenating water you took. It's concentrated essence, even though it's supposed to be diluted enough to only heal fatigue. For some reason, your body didn't process it like it should. Instead, it's storing the essence and trying to use it. Why? I don't know. Maybe you have a natural affinity for essence. But this is your body, Krist. You need to figure it out. And fast."
Krist frowned, the unease in his chest growing. "And who's going to teach me? You? Blake? Or…" He glanced toward the corner of the room, where Ash leaned against the wall, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips.
Delaney laughed, tossing the flail aside. "You're looking at him. Though I'm sure Blake would be happy to help too. But first—" He raised his hands and motioned for Krist to attack. "We finish this spar. If you're going to wield essence, you'd better get used to it in real combat."
Krist hesitated. The uncertainty weighed on him, but Delaney's confidence was contagious. Finally, he nodded and launched forward.
Their wooden weapons clashed with a sharp crack, and Krist felt a strange connection building with every swing. His movements were sharper, his reactions quicker. Something deep within him stirred, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. He felt alive, as though every fiber of his being was working in sync with the world around him.
Delaney grinned as he blocked Krist's strike and countered with a swift jab to his side. "Good. You're starting to feel it, aren't you?"
Krist didn't answer, too focused on the fight. He ducked under Delaney's follow-up swing and retaliated with a clean strike to his opponent's ribs.
Blake, watching from the sidelines, raised an eyebrow. "This just got a lot more interesting," he muttered.
Ash chuckled softly, her skepticism melting into mild approval. "He's got a long way to go. But… maybe he's not as hopeless as I thought."
The spar ended with a swift disarm from Delaney. Krist staggered back, panting heavily, his swords clattering to the mat.
Delaney clapped him on the shoulder, his tone lighter now. "You've got potential, Krist. But potential means nothing without discipline. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
Krist nodded, exhaustion and determination etched into his face. But before he could step out of the ring, a firm handgrabbed his arm.
"Ash?" Krist turned to see her intense gaze locked onto his.
She said nothing, simply dragging him back into the ring.
"Ash, what the hell?" Krist protested, stumbling to keep up.
"No time for questions!" she snapped, her voice like a whip. "You humiliated me, Krist. Me. Do you know how long it's been since someone dared to pull something like that?"
Krist smirked, despite himself. "Well, to be fair, you were lying in a pile of trash. Not exactly your most intimidating moment."
Ash spun around, her face inches from his. "Laugh all you want. When I'm done with you, those pictures won't matter. You'll be too busy nursing your bruises. Now, I'll give you one last chance—delete those pictures, or else."
Krist raised an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"
She crossed her arms, a deadly calm settling over her. "Then we settle this here. If you win, I'll drop it. But if I win, you delete them in front of me and promise never to cross me again. Deal?"
Krist hesitated. Ash wasn't just his cousin; she was a force of nature—unpredictable, relentless, and terrifyingly skilled.
"Fine," he said, his competitive streak taking over. "But don't cry when you lose again."
Ash smirked, stepping into the center of the mat. "Oh, you're going to regret that."
Blake leaned against the doorway, shaking his head. "This should be good," he muttered.
Krist rolled his shoulders. "Rules?"
"No killing blows. First to land five clean hits wins."
But before Krist could ready himself, Ash's smirk deepened. "Actually, I just had a better idea."
Krist frowned. "What now?"
"You're starting to use essence, right? Let's make this more interesting. We'll spar with essence. I just broke into the first plane, so our strength difference shouldn't be much. You're a genius, after all. Aren't you?"
Krist stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "You've got to be kidding me. I just started learning about essence today, and you've been at this for years!"
"Scared?" Ash taunted, her eyes glinting.
"Hell yes!" Krist barked, turning toward the exit. But before he could escape, Ash misinterpreted—or pretended to.
"Oh, you're grabbing a weapon? Perfect." She extended her hand toward the weapons rack, and a sparring whip shot into her grip. Its rubber length glinted harmlessly—until it didn't.
Dark energy engulfed the whip, turning it pitch black. Ash swung it experimentally, and the air itself seemed to tremble.
Krist froze, his instincts screaming danger. Without thinking, he grabbed a circular wooden shield from the rack and turned just in time to see the whip snap toward him.
The dark energy struck the shield, detonating on impact. The force blasted Krist backward, throwing him through the exit and into the wall.
"Krist!" Blake shouted, his voice sharp with alarm.
Krist groaned, his ears ringing and his arms numb from the impact. He stared at the scorched shield in his hands, disbelief washing over him.
Ash approached the edge of the ring, twirling the whip with a smug grin. "You might want to learn essence control sooner rather than later, cousin. Or next time, I won't hold back."
Blake stepped between them, his voice cold. "Ash. That's enough."
For once, Ash looked sheepish. "What? He was fine."
Krist, still sprawled against the wall, glared at her. "You're insane."