Private Lessons

Some of the core concepts that had been repeatedly beaten into Damian during the entire day had always revolved around simple practices with moving the body as the utmost priority, unlike what Damian had thought which was something closer to learning how to kill people or monsters of the outside.

Concepts like learning how to breathe, contorting your body, and developing sufficient physical stamina. Occasionally he would be forced into questions on how he would deal with complex situations on survival and priority which constantly threw Damian for a loop.

Even till now—with the day over and the night now ever-present, nothing really changed in his private lessons with Instructor Kley. They both simply decided to hammer in the same movements for a far longer amount of time than what was assigned.

An upside to Damian's personality at least was that he was surprisingly unyeilding despite his complaining and groaning.

"Straighten your back more and do it again. I'm tired of seeing your posture slouching, so please rid yourself of that useless habit." Kley reprimanded.

"...I'm…trying…"

"Try harder." Kley pushed Damian with little remorse for his exhaustion.

'He's insufferable!'

Straining himself for another hour of tedious practice, Damian cursed and forced himself into prolonged concentration. While the day was over for everyone else, he was still outside sitting on the dirt, learning and honing in on Instructor Kley's guidance.

But the night took an unexpected turn when his instructor finally decided to get up from where he had decided to sit down during his one-on-one teaching in repetitive strict fundamentals.

"What is it?" Damian asked, questioning Kley's actions.

"Get up. I think it's about time we do something else. We've been working on the same stuff for hours now—I think a real change of pace could help significantly."

"And what exactly are you suggesting we do now?"

"Hand-to-hand combat."

Damian scrunched his brow in confusion:

"What the hell are you on about? You mean I have to fight you? An instructor?"

Stretching lightly, Instructor Kley smiled at the tired recruit:

"Do you know what one of the most important aspects of fighting as an Imprinted is—or anyone for that matter?"

"...Killing people?"

"No, it's learning how to take a hit."

Listening to his instructor's ominous words, Damian immediately began to pale.

'...Oh no…'

— —

"Stop! You don't have to do this! I'm pretty sure- ack!"

Throwing himself across the dirt, Damian barely managed to avoid a blast of flaming embers. Due to his instructor's brazen decision to fight his student, Damian had to learn the hard way just what exactly Kley was really capable of.

'Why did he have to be able to use fire of all things?! Gosh, this really brings back memories I really don't wanna think about…'

Weaving past waves of darting fire, Damian closed the distance to his instructor. Now in range, the two opted for close combat as Kley initiated the engagement, choosing to not use his fire.

As they fought, Damian could instantly feel the vast gap between them. Unlike his duel with Valyn, the strength, and ability between the two couldn't even be considered close in the slightest.

Even worse; with Kley using a single hand in their duel, the strain and pressure he had to go against was like trying to hold on to the edge of a crumbling cliff by the skin of his teeth.

However, with his instructor carefully measuring himself, the fight still gave Damian small moments to properly react or protect himself.

Desperately holding on, adrenaline continued to overshadow Damian's immense exhaustion as he quickly moved and attempted to read his opponent's movements.

Unfortunately, his amateurish skill could only amount to so much as Kley would constantly outsmart him and deal decisive blows with excessive ease. These blows would, however, only consist of light taps and moderate hits—dealing a noticeable but tolerable pain that Damian could handle without outright collapsing.

'God, every time I get hit, it seriously hurts, but I can't figure out how to avoid anything he's doing. He's only using one hand for crying out loud! Although It's also seriously difficult for me to see much when it's this dark out.'

Fighting in subtle darkness, lights situated around the outpost along with the glowing moon assisted their eyes to a small degree.

'Now that I think about it…where had that whispering voice gone to? In previous fights back in the forest, it had assisted me, but why not now? Ever since I returned from the desert, it seemed to have gone missing-'

Distracted by the realization, Damian had let himself get hit once again. Only this time, after the hit Kley had actually backed away, disengaging from the duel.

"Why'd…you stop?" Damian caught his breath as he spoke.

"Let's take a break. You've been going at it for a whole day with very few breaks—you know even for an Imprinted as inexperienced as you, you're surprisingly tenacious." Kley replied while handing him a container of water.

Somewhat taken aback by the sudden praise, Damian nodded as he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time; it read 9:04 p.m.

"Haa…I practiced for a whole day and it only feels like I got more tired rather than better." He spat with a disdainful look.

"Relax, all this practice will drastically pay off eventually. Once your body is more conditioned, you'll be able to put up a fight in one-on-one combat with Yulie and me pretty soon—that's also when the real training starts." Kley explained, attempting to ease Damian's mentality.

Pausing slightly, Damian grumbled and pressed on for a final hour of his private lessons. Not long after, he was finally dismissed for the night.