“There are a few rules to this little training session of ours,” Liam said, leveling Rafe such a serious look he knew there’d be no time for banter.

  “Training session? I was under the impression we got six months?” Rafe still tried, smiling hopefully.

  Liam only nodded, his countenance now morphing to grave.

  “I hope Noid wasn't able to break you because he is not the biggest hardass you'll ever see. I am.

  Okay. That was scary. Rafe went to dial up the charm with another smile when suddenly he was flying, all the breath escaping his lungs in a hiss.

  “The first rule: all we do is fight.”

  That was unreasonable on so many counts. Count one: how the hell was a gangly sixteen-year-old going to fight a god-level entity? Count two: child abuse, or was that not a thing in the multiverse? Count three: Rafe not being allowed to use his sword. Count four: why the hell was he still in his sixteen-year-old body if he was back to being a mental projection?

  “The second rule,” Liam said as he came to stand over Rafe. “Do. Not. Stay. Down. Ever! One of your vanishingly few natural strengths is your ability to get back up. I want to see that. Not this!”

  There was a boot on his head, squishing his face into the earth. He couldn't breathe. He flailed, tried to claw at the boot with one of his hands. He failed.

  “Rule three: I am only a level twenty-five avatar. You defeated Sam’s level one hundred-plus avatar. Surely you can beat me a few times.”

  “Mph..mot…e…mule!”

  “Come again,” Liam lifted his boot off Rafe's head.

  Rafe jumped up like a hopping kangaroo, landing a few feet away and trying to get into a fighting stance. He tried to bend his knees but his balance felt off. He looked to his right, noticing his hand was subconsciously extended as if he were holding a sword.

  “I said,” he started, just to buy himself time. “That was not a rule.”

  “I was getting to that. If you want to get the answers I promised you before, you have to hit me. Any kind of hit will do.”

  “I'm still not even sure why and how you convinced me to do this?!” Rafe complained.

  “Is that so? Well then,” Liam snapped a finger.

  Rafe watched the white grow colours. He felt everything around them, which had been nothing but featureless white as far as the eye could see a second before, change. Now there was grass and there was a shed in the distance. A herd of buffalo roamed almost a kilometer away, near a glade a little into the woods. There were birds, insects chewing on wood, a squirrel trying to hide a nut. A caterpillar on the blade of grass just next to his foot.

  “Gah!” Rafe stumbled but stayed on his feet.

  He was swaying though, gritting his teeth to keep the scream contained.

  “Oh? You are stronger than I would have expected. You are already trying to resist it.”

  “What is this?”

  Liam shrugged. “My innate ability. Or a variation of it. Yours isn't light-based. It's based on void affinity, space and time.”

  “Gonna need a little more explanation than that?” Rafe said, his teeth now chattering as the sensory overload threatened to knock him unconscious.

  “Precognition and spatial awareness. Using a light aspected innate ability. Yours is a literal translation, stripping the ability down to its two basics.”

  “So mine is stronger?”

  Liam tilted his head. “How do you figure? Mine was an innate ability that literally influenced my affinities. Yours was influenced by a burgeoning affinity and is just a racial ability anyway.”

  “You take that back!” Rafe tried to derail the conversation.

  “Enough talk,” Liam said as he suddenly appeared right in Rafe's face.

  “Waaa! But I—”

  “Rule three!” Liam barked. “You only get answers you've earned, after you land a hit. I'll tell you about the system, about a lot of things, if you can only hit me.”

  Rafe was collapsing with a cracked jaw a second later.

  ****

  Liam was born with his innate skill. He'd grown up seeing the world in a different way, seeing what his opponents were about to do in a fight, seeing everything on the field. He thought it was how everyone else saw everything. Then he found out.

  It had been natural to him. It was not for Rafe. Even after he got a new skill that kind of helped him stay in fights longer.

  Skyholm's fighting proficiency (rare) (lvl. 6).

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  It was slow leveling even with all the pummeling he'd been taking. It was a rare skill. Plus Rafe didn't have Skyholm's fighting proficiency. Not even a little bit. Liam had been born to a family of warriors going back long before his great-grandparents’ grandparents. He had trained in the use of every weapon, martial art and technique in his world at the time before he was fourteen.

  And then he'd traveled the universe. He was the only guardian then. The biggest, strongest being. The pinnacle of a whole universe.

  Rafe knew the visions he'd seen before he went to train with Noid said Enith was the strongest, but Liam was something else. Maybe they were strong in different ways?

  It had been five months. Five months of nothing but Liam pulling out one weapon after the other. Today Rafe was unarmed, getting the stance right with his knees only a little bent, his heel bouncing, and his hands fisted below his jaw.

  Liam held a spear, sidestepping in slow, measured steps, stocking his meal.

  Liam lunged forward with a thrust and Rafe moved forward to meet him, bobbing and weaving, trying to confuse Liam. None of them committed. They had found that as a level twenty-five, Liam's innate precognition was almost ten seconds ahead of Rafe's. What was worse, as an innate skill, it grew stronger at every level.

  Rafe's might, or might not gain some range and extra seconds with every new grade. Rafe would settle for it just growing reliable. His precognition, they had found, was wonky. It only reacted some of the time, to some movements. Maybe it was at more dangerous times? They'd tried to study it all to no avail. It annoyed Liam more than it did Rafe.

  Even as a child, Liam had been able to see the souls of others. He could tell someone's affinity on first meeting. He didn't know that was special of course, the show off. He could see his soul. He could see everything. His ability had been named ‘All seeing eye of the Sage’.

  Rafe's only advantage was that he could see mana flowing in the wind. He could see spells being shaped a bit more clearly than Liam could at his level, but they were not using magic.

  The two danced past each other's traps, partners who'd danced together too long they knew each other's tricks. At least the opening tricks. Rafe narrowly avoided the spear's tip, letting the length of wood flow past his skin as he got in close. Liam's trailing foot came up to trip him a little. He let the legs connect, tumbled, trying to force himself leftward so he barrelled into the enemy.

  The enemy was already flowing, only his toes touching the grass as he seemed to fly sideways to maintain his distance. The fight had already started, so there was no need to stare each other down again. The spear thrust and this time Rafe tried a risky maneuver of ducking at the last moment, almost like he was playing a party game. His eyes locked with Liam's as the man scowled, hating the playfulness with which Rafe treated the long-term sparring session.

  The wood came down on Rafe's chest with a thwack, bouncing off even as Rafe was forced down. He bounced off the ground, skidded a little backward, and was on his feet in a second, trying to backstep.

  “Wrong. You're supposed to be trying to get on my guard. Six months is almost up. You will never get any information on the system like this!”

  Rafe gritted his teeth but continued to backpedal cautiously. He just needed a moment, a chance. Wasn't that what he told himself all the time? Liam hadn't shown it in his own Skyholm vision, but he could have been Noid's equal as a warrior even without magic. With magic, well, Rafe knew he and his master were only adequate, but sometimes that was enough.

  Still. He had a long way to go. He had thought his path was set. Leave the trial, get some epic classes, level up, and he'd be among the multiverse elite. How wrong he'd been. If there were warriors half as good as Liam out there. Not even because of his innate ability. If there were warriors who moved with that much grace, that much control over their bodies, it'd be a blood bath. If there were warriors who'd put in half as many hours of practice as Liam had, he was so screwed, and excited, kind of.

  Rafe guessed he did have advantages, one of which was the myriad skills he already had. He also had a solid plan now. He was going to become a monster of a melee fighter, using skills only to augment his fighting. He needed skills that boosted his strength, his speed, his defense, and maybe even his healing capabilities.

  Rafe liked thinking of the future because the present sucked. Liam had taken the initiative already, and there was no chance for Rafe to get in his guard again. Besides, there were still tricks to fighting someone in close range using a spear. Liam had never had to resort to tricks in all the months they had been training.

  The speed kept ramping up, and Rafe was only barely able to dodge, seeing no chance to get in close. Liam kept upping the ante, waiting for Rafe to make a mistake, snap under the pressure. He always did. And he did so today again.

  With a growl, Rafe pretended he was going to charge blindly, angrily. Liam thrust toward the awkwardly moving leading leg. Rafe jumped, went into a drop kick. Liam gracefully stepped sideways, letting Rafe jump past. Or so Rafe had assumed.

  With a speed Rafe had not thought possible for a level twenty-five, Liam lifted his leg and kicked his airborne enemy downward. Rafe impacted the grassy plain even as it shifted to a softer snowy land. He bounced in the soft snow, leaving a furrow deep in the ground.

  He tried to hurry to his feet but he was buried in a tiny hill of snow. Clearing the white coldness took him a moment. A moment in which Liam had arrived, already kicking. He kicked him on the jaw, sending his neck snapping back. Rafe was stunned.

  Still, he wouldn't go down that easily. He saw the stab before Liam had started the attack, his precognition finally kicking in. He had to wait until the last second to start his roll. Liam changed his trajectory at the last moment, going for where Rafe was headed now. Too bad Rafe had a plan for that eventuality. Shamelessly cheat.

  As his belly rolled upward, Liam still in the middle of his thrust, Rafe released his payload. A snowball flew towards Liam. The god just tilted his head and continued the thrust. He had to abort his attack at the last second as Rafe released his true trap, such as it was.

  He haphazardly threw snow around while he rolled, hoping to hit Liam in the face. Rafe saw his chance when Liam took a step back. With his back on the white ground, he launched himself forward with as much force as he could muster. Liam blocked the offending foot with the butt of his spear but Rafe was already charging another kick. He was going to call his ground dancing and flailing move the earth dance, a new martial arts technique by yours truly.

  Liam was on the defensive against Rafe's ground-based kicks. He changed the tempo every once in a while. He just needed to…Liam jumped off the snow with his toes, flowing gracefully backward, gaining some range.

  “A truly graceless approach you've chosen, throwing dirt and flailing like a worm. Still, it's an improvement. Use the environment to your advantage if your opponent is that much stronger. I come,” he finished without preamble.

  Rafe was on his feet this time. It was almost a reset. Rafe was more injured than his opponent, but he had more than ample experience fighting to ignore the pain. He could last hours fighting Liam, even when his stamina flagged. His resources were still low, so learning how to ration them was very important, according to his trainer.

  They would only rest for a few minutes, during which time the trial would heal Rafe and reset his resources,

  and then they'd fight again. Rinse and repeat. Liam had said six months of training, and Rafe trained almost nonstop for six months. He never managed to land a decisive strike though.