19 His Dream and Her Call (2/2)
All of these unknowns gave him a sense of anxiety as if...
”...Well, I won't pry if you don't want to talk about it. I was just a bit interested in it.”
Tell me about it. If anyone's interested in this tattoo, it's fucking me -- the guy who has it engraved on his goddamned chest.
Looks like no else knows that I didn't originally have it before, they all think I got it before I came here. No, I might wrong. Julian seemed far too interested in it; he might have some suspicions about how where I got it.
There's a good chance he might suspect something happened to me that night. Even then, so what? I doubt he'll do anything about it...probably.
When all was said and done, Reed got away scot-free in comparison to the fate that befell Astor, Horatio, and Sebastian. He learned the following day that they had been imprisoned at the bottom of the challenge zone for a week as punishment, and that was after Violett had thrashed them around.
Astrid and Ophelia berated all three of them until they begged for forgiveness on their knees, and Reed was no exception. They both gave Reed their belated thoughts on the matter, to put it bluntly.
It involved a forceful abduction as they took him to a secluded training chamber. What followed after was them putting their thoughts into action, in the worst method possible.
Violence was how they repaid Reed for their making them worry. These noble ladies subscribed to the belief that pain was the greatest teacher -- some lessons required a more 'hands-on' approach.
That day he swore to himself that he'd never anger those she-devils ever again...or at the very least, never get caught again.
Reed's days passed by painfully after his blunder; Violett kept her promise and upped the difficulty of his training to the point that he was often left half-dead after every session.
Violet would relentlessly tear into him every single time they sparred as if she was out for blood. She was quick to punish even the slightest mistake, even more so than Axtorius did back in the day. At the very least, the old man wouldn't have beaten him into the ground for a simple mistake, unlike this demoness.
In the end, Reed was still forced to accept that the truth -- her hellish training produced incredible results. Her style of training empathized pressuring her students into life and death situations as if to force out all of their hidden potentials.
She would drag you to the edge of the abyss and let you struggle there until you couldn't any longer. It was a way to familiarize oneself with the fear of death without the need of actually risking one's life.
Violett was so skilled that she knew exactly how much strength her blows had to carry to give Reed of death, but not actually kill him. In that regard, she was an expert actress; none could escape this mistress of death.
Reed quickly learned that even simple mistakes would result in fatal consequences when dealt with her. He was constantly forced to improve or die in the face of her relentless onslaught.
In the blink of an eye, five months had passed since that night. Reed had grown considerably since then, he now possessed a level of expertise over Anima that left even Violett astounded and concerned...
Even Violett thought that she might have overdone it, but it was too late to regret her actions.
Reed calmed himself down and focused until he lost track of time. Silence reigned in his private chamber as he lifted his left hand and swung it down gently. He silently repeated the movement, but nothing happened despite his attempts.
He'd been attempting to recreate something for the last five months to close the gap between himself and Violett. Simply put, he wasn't satisfied. His fights with Violett had grown stale; he'd become skilled enough to defend himself against her attacks, but nothing he did would hurt her.
It had reached a stalemate of sorts, one that left him frustrated. He would defend but never be able to attack properly, much like a cowardly turtle. Violett assured him that he was progressing along superbly, even better than any of his peers; the fact that he could hold out against her was enough to guarantee his safety against contenders.
But what of conquerors like herself? Was he supposed to retreat into his shell and wait for help? He recognized that he needed to take another step forward if he wanted to properly survive in this world.
He did not fear the men of this, no; what he feared were its gods. Knowing that he could triumph over men gave him no comfort because he knew that his real adversaries came from heaven itself.
What mattered most was protecting his little life first, everything else came after. That was why he had spent the last five months practicing in secret for this moment.
He gently swung his hand down through the air as if he wanted to do something to it.
Again and again, attempt after attempt, failure upon failure. It did not deter him in the slightest. He believed that it was worth the effort and would continue failing until he succeeded.
After an endless amount of attempts, the fruit of his failures finally blossomed.
One day, Reed swung his hand down and something actually happened. It immediately his attention as he quickly broke out concentration and intently stared at the space where his hand had passed through.
Although small and incredibly faint, Reed was able to see what he had accomplished.
In a distant room, Violett picked up on something incredibly astonishing all of a sudden. She instantly turned towards the direction she had felt the phenomenon occur and immediately knew what -- and most importantly, who caused it to appear.
She felt an unpleasant sweat form as she immediately flashed towards the location of the incident and observed; what she saw confirmed her suspicions.
It was there in the middle of Reed's training chamber, floating weakly as if it was about to disappear.
He had succeeded after five months and 25,778 attempts. A feat that should not have been possible.
An insignificant crack hovered in the air, slowly repairing itself as time passed by - a spatial tear...