When Kurt said that Miles was going to regret asking him to be trained harder, Miles had no idea of how right Kurt was.
But now he did.
***
The first hit ca before Miles was even fully awake.
One second, he was blinking the sleep from his eyes. The next, a boot slamd into his ribs, sending him rolling across the cold stone floor. He barely had ti to groan before another kick ca, forcing him onto his hands and knees.
"Get up." Kurt’s voice was sharp, devoid of his usual humor. "You wanted this, rember?"
Miles coughed, his entire body aching. "That was... Excessive."
Kurt crouched beside him, gripping his jaw and forcing Miles to look at him.
"Excessive? Kid, this is rcy. Get on your feet before I start getting cruel." His silver eye glead in the dim light.
Miles gritted his teeth and pushed himself up.
The week had begun.
Miles had thought he was in a sowhat decent shape because of his stats. He knew it was a far cry from players like Sarissa, but he had managed.
He had survived The Horizon so far, fought against Revenants, scavengers, even things that should not exist. But Kurt’s training was not about surviving.
It was about breaking him.
The first half of the day was pure endurance. Running through the ruined tunnels with weighted gear strapped to his body like he was so kind of Porter. Each step sent a jolt of pain through his still-healing muscles, but Kurt’s rule was simple.
Stop running, and you don’t eat.
After five hours, Miles collapsed. He expected Kurt to let him rest.
But Kurt just dragged him back to his feet.
"You don’t get to lay down." Kurt snapped. "Only when you’re dead."
The second half of the day was sparring. If he could even call it that. It was more like Kurt beating the absolute hell out of him. Miles barely got a hit in before he was knocked to the ground again, forced to roll, dodge, or take another punch to the ribs.
By the ti night fell, Miles could barely move.
He lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling, struggling to catch his breath. Miles thought of summoning the [Ether Teapot], but if he was to beco really stronger, he should not rely on the comfort of healing and empowering artifacts. And so, he just groaned and grimaced, watching the ceiling as every fiber in his body scread profanities against him.
"Eat. You’ve got five minutes before we do it again." Kurt threw a piece of dried at at him.
"I fucking hate you." Miles laughed, breathless.
Kurt smirked.
"Good. You’ll hate even more tomorrow."
***
Miles woke up to a fist in his stomach.
He curled inward on instinct, coughing, but Kurt grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright.
"You’re too slow." Kurt threw him across the chamber. Miles barely had ti to brace before he hit the wall. "If you take that long to wake up, you’ll be dead before you even get a chance to fight back."
It took everything in Miles to not groan as he forced himself up, his entire body still aching from the previous day.
"Shadow." Kurt barked.
"What?" Miles blinked.
"Use your fucking shadow."
Right, [Doppelganger].
Miles exhaled and activated the Attribute skill. The second shadow pooled beneath him, rising to mimic his stance and cover him up in the form of his already familiar black, long coat. But this ti, it was different.
The shadow did not just cover him in the form of his surreal, eerie black coat. It was now following him and moving independently, detached from Miles and the floor. And it moved before Kurt did.
Kurt was already lunging, but before Miles could react, his shadow blurred forward, intercepting the attack. Physically blocking it.
Kurt twisted mid-motion, slamming his elbow into Miles’ ribs instead, sending him stumbling back.
But the shadow had moved on its own.
Miles did not have ti to question it. The mont he hit the ground, Kurt was on him again.
"Your shadow’s faster than you," Kurt growled. "Learn from it."
Miles barely dodged the next blow.
By the end of the second day, his body was bruised, he was beaten, bloody and battered. He decided to summon the [Ether Teapot] this ti, as soon as he noticed he would not be able to rest or even eat, because of the pain.
His knuckles were raw, but sothing had shifted, even before he took the first sip of the etheric tea.
He was moving faster, even if slightly. His reactions were sharpening, the strange ember he felt inside him had now beco a small fire.
And his shadow...
It was getting smarter.
***
"You’re banned from using that magic tea of yours." Kurt announced as they stood at the edge of a crumbling bridge.
"What?" Miles tensed.
"You rely on it too much." Kurt cracked his knuckles. "You don’t get to be in peak condition before every fight. If you don’t have a party, if you don’t have a healer in your group, you push through it. If you’re dying, you fight until you’re dead."
"That’s idiotic." Miles clenched his fists.
"Yeah. But so is relying on a crutch. Now jump." Kurt grinned.
Miles looked at the gap between the two ruins. It was at least thirty feet across.
"You’re insane." Miles muttered, shaking his head.
"Jump."
Miles exhaled. His body scread in protest, but he bent his knees, channeling every ounce of strength left in him...
And leaped.
For a mont, he was weightless. The world blurred past him, and then gravity hit.
His fingers just barely caught the edge of the other side. Pain shot up his arms as his body slamd against the ledge, but he gritted his teeth and pulled himself up.
By the ti he rolled onto solid ground, he was gasping for breath.
Kurt smirked from the other side.
"Good. Now do it again."
***
Miles’ eyes were covered.
He could hear Kurt’s footsteps, the soft scrape of movent on stone. But he could not see. However, his body ached slightly less than the day before, even though he had not used the [Ether Teapot].
It was curious, but in a good way.
"Use your other senses." Kurt instructed. "If you rely only on sight, you’re useless in a real fight."
Miles gritted his teeth, taking a slow step forward, listening. And then, then, pain.
A sharp blow to his side sent him sprawling.
"Too slow." Kurt’s voice was sowhere behind him now.
Miles growled, pushing himself up. He steadied his breath, focusing.
Listen.
The air shifted, with a faint movent to his right. Miles turned, swinging his fist, and sothing inside him felt like turning along with him.
It connected.
"Not bad. Again." Kurt let out a grunt of approval.
They trained until Miles’ body gave out. He still could not see through the blindfold. But by the end of the day, he could hear almost everything.
Despite the pain, Miles’ personal hell was paying off.
***
His shadow was not just mimicking him anymore.
It was predicting him.
Kurt had him spar against it – not against it, but as though Miles’ shadow was trying to strike him down – forcing Miles to move faster, strike harder. At first, the shadow overwheld him, even though the blows did not physically land.
It was quicker, sharper, better.
But by the end of the day, Miles was not just fighting it.
He was leading it.
It was strange, but the more Miles boxed with his second shadow, the more connected he felt to it. Almost as if he was getting in sync with it – or it was starting to get in sync with him.
"You’re starting to get it." Kurt watched with a rare look of approval.
***
Kurt did not hold back this ti. Not an inch.
No more sparring, no more training drills. This was a real fight.
Miles barely dodged the first strike, the knife whistling past his ear. He twisted, kicking out, but Kurt caught his foot and slamd him into the ground.
Miles coughed up blood.
No rcy, Kurt was trying to kill him.
For hours, they fought. Each strike was real. Each wound was deep. Miles’ body begged for the [Ether Teapot], but he ignored it. Pushed through and gritting through the pain.
And then, for the first ti, Miles landed a decisive hit.
His knee slamd into Kurt’s ribs, hard enough to make him stumble, and for just a second, Kurt faltered.
Miles’ heart pounded. He had done it. He had drawn first blood.
Kurt wiped the trickle of blood from his lip, then, he grinned.
"Now you’re ready."
Miles collapsed onto the stone floor, breathless, exhausted, but victorious.
One more day.
And then, he would face The Last Verse.
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