They were back in the oh-so-familiar training room. Weapons lined the walls like shelves in a vast library. Josen ignored them all and picked up his familiar katana, wiping dirt from its golden tip. He walked around as if searching for something, then his eyes landed on a short dagger with a green orb.
Green orbs, steal right?
"Ok, ready."
"Mhm. Ok, boi. Those are your weapons of choice?"
Augustus strolled around the hall of weapons. Josen wondered what he would pick. Curved daggers, long swords, greatswords, exotic artillery Josen couldn't even name — Augustus passed by all of it and picked up… a pen. A golden-tipped fountain pen. It looked firm and secure, but Josen felt disrespected. Swordsmanship was his pride, and Augustus had chosen a pen.
They stepped into the barrier field Augustus activated. A mechanical voice rang out:
"Ready."
The tempo slowed, giving room for a last call to forfeit. Josen guessed it was in duel mode.
"Set. Go."
Augustus blitzed. In less than a second he closed the fifty feet between them. Josen's eyes could barely follow. Terror seized him — he almost felt his head already rolling on the ground as Augustus appeared behind him, frozen in a strange stance.
Josen didn't hesitate. He spun in the air, about to land a massive kick, then blinked behind Augustus, aiming to connect. His strike was stopped by the pen's tip, barely grazing Josen's foot. Josen stepped back, feinted a dagger slash, spun his blade, then tossed it into the air. He launched a side kick that sent Augustus back a few feet. Augustus stabbed the ground repeatedly with the pen, slowing himself before he could skid further.
The katana Josen had thrown earlier fell in front of Augustus. Josen appeared instantly to retrieve it, but Augustus leapt into the air and slammed a massive axe kick into Josen's face, crushing him into the ground.
"End ring match," Augustus ordered calmly.
He sighed, slipped the pen back into his pocket, and offered Josen his hand. Josen, face bruised and foot grazed, took it and stood. His head still rang from possible internal damage, but he kept steady.
They moved into the review chamber deeper in the basement and sat in cushioned chairs. Augustus replayed the fight on a glowing screen.
"Your martial skill is amazing. In days you've already mixed your Formless Fang techniques with swordsmanship. Truly impressive."
"Yeah," Josen muttered, "would've been more impressive if you didn't knock me out with a pen and one kick."
"Considering you were against someone far above your level, you're growing well. But why didn't you use your precognition?"
"I tried. You were too fast."
Augustus stroked his chin. "What do you mean by tried? How did you try?"
"What's that supposed to mean, old man?"
"When you use it, do you squeeze your sight to see everything? You shouldn't force it. Relax your eye. Broaden your perspective. Let the information flow. Right now, there are attacks you can't see at all — like those at the speed of light. But with practice? You'll perceive them."
Josen let the words sink in. He grabbed his daggers, violet fumes curling off their edges, and returned to the arena. Augustus followed, pen in hand. The barrier closed.
Josen unleashed a flurry of poisoned slashes, carving tremors into the air. Augustus batted them aside with a hand. Josen flipped through the air, dodging invisible air waves from Augustus's strikes.
He's improving by the minute. Already near high A-rank. He might even be on the path to ascension.
Augustus had no time to think further. Josen charged in with a storm of punches and kicks — some blocked, some parried. Josen feinted low, then leapt, kicking high. But Augustus bent space and appeared behind him. With a gesture, telekinesis lifted Josen like a rag doll.
Josen cut through the distortion with poison, forcing himself free. Augustus blitzed in, jab aimed for his face. Josen parried. A low kick — checked. Then an overhand strike — sending Josen crashing into the forcefield. Augustus followed with a pen thrust.
Click.
Josen saw it before it even happened — the projection of Augustus's moves. He rolled beneath a spinning kick, leapt over a slashing arc, dodging by instinct and precognition.
The timer beeped. Both froze. Space itself had sharpened around Josen's neck, ready to slice. Augustus released it, and they stepped down from the barrier.
"That was a masterful performance, boi. You even perceived my attacks."
Josen smiled but quickly retorted. "Of course I could. You projected them to me on purpose, didn't you?"
Augustus smirked. "I'm too high-level. You'd need to surpass your limits exponentially to even glimpse my true strength."
Josen felt conflicted. Augustus was the strongest man he'd ever met, maybe even in the entire nation of Liones. But even one man's power couldn't topple the system. Allies would be needed.
Before he could dwell further, Augustus handed him two orbs. White, transparent, pulsing with power. One warped the space around itself — mythic grade. The other was tamer, but solid — grade three.
"These are for you. The mythic orb holds the affinity for space. You can't fully use it yet, but in dire moments it'll help, it will be your saviour. The second one, however, you can use right away. It'll store weapons, artifacts, even people if you're clever, and can help with your range. Grow with it. Improve it."
Josen stared, tempted to swallow both. Augustus stopped him with a warning.
"And don't even think about eating both. That much power will tear your soul apart. You'd be nothing but shreds of meat."
Josen shivered. He hesitated, then lifted the grade-three orb.
"You know you can just crack it like candy, right?" Augustus said flatly.
Josen froze mid-motion, embarrassed. He sighed, cracked it open, and bit. The inside was spiky, glass-like, but tasteless. A warmth spread from his stomach into his veins as he absorbed it.
"Go on. Try it."
Josen reached out. A sword from Augustus's wall vanished and reappeared in his grip. He gasped, excitement lighting his eyes.
"Try something else."
Josen thought for a moment. He felt it: a beat. Not of sound, but of space itself. Crossing his fingers, he spoke low:
"Scatter."
Furniture, weapons, screens all flew away from him — all were hurled away in a swirling vortex. Augustus's smile widened.
"Pull," Josen commanded next.
Instantly, everything rushed back to him, floating midair before collapsing as the resonance faded.
"Good. Very good, boi."
Augustus paused, thoughtful.
"Tomorrow, you'll face Corin Drakovish — heir to the Drakovish family. Rumored to be A-rank. His subclass hasn't been revealed to the public. So be ready for anything."
He clapped Josen's shoulder, then turned. "Now go get some sleep. We leave at nine."