CHAPTER 72: DEFENSE

Momentarily freezing on the spot, Charon blinked.

"Me?"

Wallflower tilted her head to the side.

"Yes, of course. Who else could it be?"

Chuckling nervously, he glanced around the room and gave a disarming smile.

"I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I just saw you beat my best summon, and I’ve only used a scythe once before, so I really don’t think this is the best idea."

She grunted and swung her weapon out, the tip of the blade pointing to the spot opposite her.

"It will be more comfortable to fall on the mat than on the stone. If you would rather test that, you are free to do so, but do not say I failed to warn you."

Swallowing, Charon moved to the point and raised his weapon defensively, the shaft held at a slant that mirrored the chains crossing his robes.

’Keep her at a distance, that’s the goal. How hard can it be? She is a small girl who has killed multiple fighters with an unknown magic and destroyed one of my strongest summons in single combat. Definitely not someone to be worried about!’

His morbid thoughts were made all the worse by Wallflower crouching down like a tiger ready to pounce. Her own scythe was held aloft with a single hand, her strength being far greater than her form belied.

A few seconds passed as Charon began to wonder if she was waiting for his consent, when suddenly she moved.

Seeing her dart towards him, he clumsily swiped the scythe to the side, hoping to intercept her.

He missed, a mistake he paid for with a foot to the face.

The blow sent him reeling, his weapon falling to the floor as he reached up to cradle his face through the mask. Feeling the porcelain, he was relieved to note it wasn’t cracked.

’Small mercies.’

Opening his eyes to face her, he saw a deep scowl on her lips.

"You dropped your scythe."

Looking down at the discarded weapon, he lunged forward and grabbed it, cradling it in both hands as he saw her expression sour further.

"Never drop your weapon. Ever. Had this been a real fight, and you survived the first attack, you would’ve guaranteed your death."

Nervously nodding his understanding, he sighed.

"I wasn’t expecting you to move so fast. I could barely keep up, and before I knew it, I had a foot to the face."

Wallflower pursed her lips.

"We will fix that issue with more practice. Now back to the mark. We will keep going until you succeed every time."

Charon’s eyebrows rose to his forehead.

"That could take hours!"

She chuckled softly, a hint of fire sparking behind her eyes.

"Days, possibly. You are the only judge of that. You will learn, or you will suffer. Every minute I spend here is a minute I am not in the arena. We can take our time."

He didn’t have any time to ponder her last remark before she attacked again, this time moving low.

Paying attention, he stepped forward and swung, the blade arcing towards her chest.

With almost laughable ease, she deflected with the shaft of her own scythe, spinning with the force to move even closer. A quick kick to the leg caused him to crumple.

Groaning as he stood, he rubbed his inner thigh and winced, fresh waves of pain shooting up his spine.

"Okay, I think I get it now. I just need a quick break to-"

His words cut out as she struck, this time disarming him by smacking his hand with her own.

Wallflower decided that two was far too many, and from then on, a new punishment was added for every time he dropped the scythe.

"Every time it leaves your grip, you will do ten push-ups. If this continues, I will add weights to your back while you do them."

Although he attempted to argue, she ceased the discussion by continuing her instruction in the true field she taught: pain.

That was all Charon understood, at least.

Whether it was his face, chest, arms, legs, or anywhere in between, nowhere was safe from her attacks. Even when he abandoned reasoning and fought with primal instinct, she managed to evade every attempt to block her.

His pale skin turned redder with every passing minute.

Over time, he felt the Warden subtly try to assist, jerking his limbs in one direction or another to better his stance or give him just a few extra inches of range.

Outwardly unreactive to the changes, Charon was deeply appreciative in his mind, overjoyed with his first summons attempt to help.

As the hour wore on, his body began to flog, his movements growing sloppier and his thought process slowing. Stupid mistakes became the new norm, but Wallflower refused to relent until he collapsed, unable to continue.

Only then did she leave the room, entering the lounge for a minute before returning with a small red vial.

Tilting his head back, she poured the liquid down his throat, clamping his jaw shut so he couldn’t vomit it up.

And attempt to vomit it up he did.

It was a disgusting, slimy concoction. The texture was like sludge, and the taste reminded Charon of the smell of month-old garbage.

Like a lightning bolt was sent through his body, he jolted into the air, his exhaustion vanishing and being replaced with boundless energy. Even his pain felt dull and distant, banished through means unknown.

Once she released him, he hacked and sputtered, resorting to suck on the hem of his robe to clear his mouth.

"What in the gods’ names was that?"

She discarded the vial in a nearby bin and explained.

"A vitality potion. We have an alchemist make them for us. Without them, the fighters would be unable to continue playing their roles for days at a time."

Smacking his lips in disgust, he shook his head and grimaced.

"Next time I pass out, just let me sleep. I never want to drink that again."

Wallflower looked at him nonplussed.

"Until you have managed to keep me at a distance, I will do whatever it takes to keep your training going."

Her eyes caught on his scythe, which was lying on the floor where he had collapsed.

"And you owe me ten push-ups."

Their training continued for a few more hours before Charon started to show any kind of progress.

At first, it was mostly accidental, a wild swipe of the scythe dislodging her footing and denying her the initial opening, only for her to capitalize on the second.

As the attempts wore on, however, it turned purposeful.

The weight of the weapon grew familiar, with Charon learning exactly how much strength he needed to put into it to reach a specific outcome. Small chops, for example, didn’t need much. Overhead swings were the same, as gravity did most of the work.

The difficulty lies in the horizontal swings, where he had to carry all of the weight as well as the motion, with gravity fighting to drag the weapon downwards.

He learned the solution was footwork.

’If I keep my feet wider apart and lower my center of mass, I’m less likely to fall over or lose my footing. It also gives me a more stable foundation to keep the scythe up with.’

Although they spoke far less now that they had a rhythm, Wallflower would show her advice without the need for words.

Her favorite way to do that was to attack him where he needed the most work, such as when he became decent at blocking her forward strikes, so she began to slip around to his back and attack him there.

It forced him to learn how to pivot quickly and to watch all of his angles.

After three hours, he saw little results, but by the time hour five had worn around, Charon began to feel confident in things.

’I know she is going to try and attack my right, so I should shift my stance to the side, giving her a small target and allowing me to use the blade as a wall. If she jumps over it, I can lift it and backpeddle to keep her at bay.’

His plan worked, with Wallflower being forced to flip away to avoid the sharp edge of the scythe.

Now that it was over, however, she had an easy time overwhelming and knocking him back.

Sighing and preparing himself to go again, he was stalled as she raised her hand.

"This should be good for today."

Charon’s breath caught, his eyes bulging as he thought he had misheard her.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged and walked over to the rack, depositing her scythe where she had taken it.

"You have learned how to block me, albeit to a limited extent. You have learned to predict the next few actions well, and if you continue to grow on that, you will have mastered the lesson."

Unable to believe his ears, he lowered his scythe, his hands letting it roll out in shock.

’I’m free! I did it! I finally get to go home and rest-’

The words died in his brain as he saw Wallflower’s lip curl.

"I take back what I said. You will be done after you complete fifty push-ups for dropping your weapon after all of this training!"

Charon deflated, his arms hanging limp as he sighed.

’Gods damn it all.’