With less than a day to drill the basics of combat into the head of a child, Cross was working with an unmatched tenacity.
First, he dissected the errors in Worthy's idea of fighting. To the boy, it was solely about survival and causing the most harm to his enemy as possible in quick succession.
If he were a trained assassin or hunter, he'd have been on the right track.
Worthy was used to fighting wildly. Even when he killed the Flesh Hound, he charged in with nothing by speed and went for the most vital area he could reach.
A few hours were spent dismantling this idea of battle from the child's head. Not because it was life-threatening or invalid, but simply because Cross recognized its incompatibility with the boy's arsenal.
Instead of that reckless way of fighting, Cross thought to substitute it with something less dangerous. The time was spent teaching how to execute proper strikes. Not by throwing himself head first at the opponent, but ensuring he has a way to escape.
Though he is equipped with a dangerous weapon, Worthy cannot withstand blows from the creatures or adults in this tower. One blunder in battle can already cause an experienced fighter their life. For a child, just entering a fight here could spell death.
The lesson was a simple one:
"You need to value your life more. I know it's ironic, since you came into the most dangerous tower in the world. But, there is nothing worse than a fighter who is over-reliant on their physical prowess. Take War for example. That man has the might to split mountains, at least when he's fully rejuvenated. When you met him, he wasn't using all his might because that isn't the core of his fighting style."
It was true. Holy Knights wield mountainous power, posing threats to nations, which served as a deterrent for neighbouring countries.
Nothing about his way of fighting relied on splitting the world around him apart. Instead, the man used his wit and technique. While it limited his capabilities, to the extent that his enemies had windows to exploit, it also kept him… alive.
A good foundation for fighting has self-preservation in mind.
As a mercenary, Cross was very familiar with daggers. His agility made War trust a sellsword to watch his back during their brief travel through the valley. Being proficient in different weapons was a great skill to have, but none of that mattered if you couldn't properly use one.
…Needless to say, an understanding of how to wield knives was stuffed into the child's brain. Worthy was fit to use light weaponry, so it'd be a waste to discuss longswords, sabers, or heavy clubs with him.
It wasn't easy, but it wasn't too difficult either.
Often, it's said that children are sponges who absorb all the information around them. In Worthy's case, he was playing the role of a Warrior Sponge who was learning all the ways to efficiently kill his enemies.
Slightly disturbing, but necessary for this setting.
The main lesson was the most daunting. Preparing the boy for his fight against Deadman Walkyr required him to understand the essence of fighting enemies stronger than himself.
Naturally, Worthy would also be at a disadvantage in this place. As he climbs higher, if he climbs higher, there will be smarter and more dangerous monstrosities and more harrowing challenges awaiting.
This was an enemy comparable to a threat on higher floors, sadly.
There was not much Cross could teach the boy, other than to hold nothing back. Making use of his environment would be necessary for making it out of this fight in one piece, or at least not several.
Deadman Walkyr is a battle fiend, in a sense. The more he's entertained, the less likely he'll be to deal a fatal blow.
"Honestly… Your foundation for fighting him should be the same as it's always been. You're a kid from the slums, so you know what it's like to be at a disadvantage. You need to learn how to use the style I taught you and improve your foundation. That's all I can recommend. He'll be unarmed, but that'll make him no less dangerous of an opponent."
Maybe if Worthy were a few decades older and had the chance to train his body and mind more, there'd be more to teach him. Cross brought him here to increase his odds of survival — not that he'd actually die.
To avoid draining Worthy of the energy he'd need going into his fight with Walkyr, Cross did not spar with him. In short, the boy was given instructions on what to do and expected to do it.
He'd performed loose demonstrations up until then, but had yet to see how it'd play out once he tried performing it on a talented foe.
Still, it was good for Worthy.
Walkyr was hungry for a foe. He didn't expect anything from the child, the only reason they were fighting is because of the disrespect and disdain they had for one another.
Cross is banking on the mercenary taking enough interest in Worthy to spare his life in hopes of seeing his talents blossom.
…It's a gamble, funnily enough. Esme wasn't here to remark about it, so Worthy who was being drilled with instructions was none the wiser.
"By the way, Mr. Cross. Why can't we just spar and then go to Ms. Esme for healing? I'm sure she can help with my exhaustion before the fight."
Cross simply shook his head.
"Kid, that isn't the kind of woman you want to be indebted to. There are many women I wouldn't mind owing a favor to. Her? She doesn't make the list, not by a mile." It'd be a pain to owe a favor to a woman who's made enemies out of extremely dangerous people.
In fact, one of the reasons Esme quickly went to work in the sanctuary's hospital is because Cross recommended it after seeing Haul. Worthy wasn't the only person trying to get by while waiting on War to awaken.
Making enemies out of the powerful will make surviving the First Floor even more impossible.
'There are four more floors of this… Will I manage to power through?' He hoped he could.
Maybe it was an ignorant fantasy, but the child was more determined to reach farther than anyone had ever gone. The Fourth and Fifth Floor?
Those are milestones. Humanity has reached Floor 5 and become stagnant in their climb.
Something, a mystical force, cast the towers down onto the world. Yet, the mightiest inhabitants of the planet couldn't reach the top of the wish-fulfilling structures. Promising a greedy species a chance to have their wish fulfilled…
Maybe the towers were monsters.
Whatever their origin may have been, the only relevance it had to Worthy's current situation is that it drew the attention of his current opponent.
"So, you're saying you're scared to ask her for a favor. That's fair, I don't mind or anything… You're sort of dancing around the truth, if you haven't noticed."
It almost worked.
Cross opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly understood the child's provocation was an attempt to make him act irrationally. His body was trained more than his tongue, so Cross held the former much better.
"Oh, you twat. I can't believe something that simple almost riled me up."
Truth be told, he was impressed. A silly string of words shouldn't have bothered him that way, but they were oddly personal.
He knew slum-dwellers had a way with words, but he'd completely forgotten that children's usage of words were much sharper than an adult's.
You can predict what an adult will say based on a few factors.
The words of a child? Unforeseeable. Even a mind that's been trained to deduce outcomes in advance would fail miserably at reading a child's mind.
This was another factor Cross was banking on in the upcoming fight.
"Enough of that. Take what you've learned and sleep on it. Tomorrow is the day you'll find out whether you can really climb or not."
The session went by slowly, only because there was not any action to be found during it. There was no time for hands-on learning, as much as Cross wanted to send the boy flying at times.
Left with only thoughts, Worthy went on his way to his assigned bedroom.
The hallway was extremely long, inconsistent even. If he didn't know any better, he'd have assumed it was an infinitely expanding space.
Somebody would've noticed if there was a distortion of space already. He didn't feel the need to bring it up.
If anything, it was a testament to how impressive the Rewards of the men and women who built this place were. Wherever they were now, there's no doubt they were either bringing greater construct to the tower, the world outside, or had their creative minds lost to the eternity of death.
'I hope I get to see more of their work. No, I definitely will. We're going to a Prime Settlement. I won't let some scruffy cowboy stop me.'
No, Worthy would not.
Maybe he was a little scared—justifiably. He was about to go into a fight with a force recognized by one of the best fighters Worthy knew.
However, that's all. He's scared, but so what? It doesn't mean he'll fail.
It doesn't mean his climb is going to be cut short. Who is going to grant his wish and drag his father and sister out of the shit-hole they call a home?
Not Deadman Walkyr. That's the only thing he was certain of.
The option of failure, to sit down or give up, was non-existent. The tower presents challenges in different works.
Worthy only has to climb over it.