"You're not doing nearly enough to defend yourself. You still haven't grasped the concept of Ki, and your foot placement is so bad it's making me question your life choices." Lucien lamented, watching Valeri crash into yet another tree. For a moment, he wondered if the trees had formed a union against his apprentice. Valeri groaned, struggling to untangle himself from the branches. "But my movements are getting faster! I almost dodged that first attack!" he argued, brushing off twigs with all the dignity of a man who had just kissed bark.
Two weeks into training with Luca, and Valeri's days of passing out mid-fight were over. Now, he could at least stay conscious long enough to hear the insults. Luca, however, was relentless. Earlier that week, he'd dropped the ultimate pep talk: "You're too weak. Or in essence, you haven't got the talent to back up your tenacity. You're like a mule trying to learn ballet—awkward, painful, and slightly endearing. But mostly painful. Honestly, it's a miracle you're still alive."
Valeri had taken the criticism in stride, though it stung worse than the tree bark currently lodged in his hair. He knew he wasn't talented, and his battle strategy up to this point was just throwing everything at his enemy and hoping something stuck. Spoiler: it usually didn't.
Luca, for his part, had decided on a new method: beat the skills into Valeri. Literally. "Since your brain refuses to comprehend fighting, I'll teach your body instead. And lucky for you, I have an ability that stops time in a one-mile radius. We'll train until your body reacts instinctively. Or until you finally collapse into the dirt for good, whichever comes first."
"He can pause time." That was the only part Valeri heard. For a brief moment, he wondered about the possibilities: stopping time to dodge attacks, steal snacks, or finally get the last word in an argument. But those dreams shattered when training began.
The world dimmed as Luca activated his ability. Colors faded into grayscale, the air grew heavy, and Valeri's misery became the only vibrant thing in the void. It was like living in an old black-and-white movie, except with more bruises and significantly less popcorn.
Every day was a lesson in pain. Luca's strikes were relentless, and Valeri's only real skill was his newfound ability to not die. That, as it turned out, was thanks to his personal attribute—a defense mechanism that kicked in whenever death was imminent. It was less of a superpower and more like his body screaming, "NOPE, NOT TODAY!"
Luca, however, found this fascinating. His initial goal of training Valeri turned into a borderline obsession. "Why won't you just die?!" he muttered one day after yet another of his lethal strikes was perfectly countered. He started inventing new ways to push Valeri's limits, all while growing more frustrated at the walking paradox he called a student.
Valeri, for his part, had no idea what was going on. One minute he was dodging (badly), the next he was waking up in the dirt with Luca glaring at him like an angry drill sergeant who had just realized his recruit couldn't tell left from right.
By the second month, Valeri's progress was undeniable. He could now stand up as fast as he was knocked down, and his swings no longer looked like he was swatting invisible flies. Luca, though, was unimpressed. "Congratulations, you've graduated from 'useless' to 'mildly less useless.' Don't celebrate too hard."
One evening, Luca sat him down by the fire. "Do you know how long we've been here?" he asked. Valeri blinked. "Uh, like... a couple of weeks?"
Luca sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Time moves slower here, genius. In our world, it's been over a year. And if we don't leave this forest soon, you'll start forgetting what a calendar is. We're heading to a nearby town tomorrow."
Valeri nearly choked on his water. "A town? Wait, why? Are you abandoning me?!" he spluttered.
Luca rolled his eyes. "No, you melodramatic child. We need identities. And also, I need to buy some new socks. Yours smell like despair."
The next morning, they made their way to the town of Forboðna, also known as the Nachtwart hins Forboðna, the town under the nights watch, or as Valeri liked to call it, "the place with the really long name I can't pronounce."
Standing before the gates, Luca casually dropped another bombshell: "We're here for the Vanguard Exams."
Valeri froze. "Exams?! You never said anything about exams! I didn't study! I don't even know my element yet!"
Luca sighed. "It's not a written test, idiot. They're testing stamina, combat skills, and resource management. The basics. Just don't trip over your own feet, and we might survive the first round."
As they entered the bustling town, Valeri couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and determination. Sure, he still sucked at fighting, and Luca's faith in him was about as sturdy as wet paper, but at least he wasn't alone.
For now, that was enough.
But Luca didn't tell Valeri everything, his initial plan was to find the man responsible for the towns notorious image, he knew if he wanted to get caught up with the world's information, he would need the man who knew it all, and if this world really was a carbon copy of the game then who else could he trust to blurt out even the littlest details if not 'him', The night watcher—Ezekiel Locke.