Zaroth and Roran were currently close to each other, which wasn't good news for Zaroth, as he had the weaker physique. In an attempt to create so distance between them, he raised his foot and kicked Roran in the chest.
The action created so space, but Zaroth couldn't relax because, in the next mont, he had to duck to avoid having his head cut off by the floating axe.
With no ti to rest, the spear that Roran was also controlling appeared near Zaroth, leaving him with no choice but to try to parry it with his sword. His movents were slow because of the sword that pierced his leg, but with no other option, he had to focus.
Because he had to deal with the flying—no, floating—weapons, Zaroth had turned his back to his opponent. Usually, Roran would have used such an opportunity to attack imdiately, but he was locked in place with a giant wolf, weighing around 75 kilograms, biting his arm.
"Try biting that!" Roran muttered under his breath as he brought his sword down, piercing the wolf's belly.
The wolf grunted and let go, but without showing any signs of slowing down, it jumped at Roran's neck, ready to kill if necessary.
'What kind of beast is that?!' Roran wondered. He had managed to deal a devastating blow to Zaroth's summon, yet it showed no signs of slowing down, as if it couldn't feel pain—as if it wasn't alive.
"Don't forget about !" Zaroth's sudden reappearance forced Roran to split his attention.
'How the hell did he deal with the weapons?!' Roran wondered, only to get his answer the mont he set his eyes on Zaroth.
The sword was still stuck in his leg, a spear had pierced his thigh, and an axe was buried in his shoulder. Blood poured from the three wounds, yet Zaroth acted as if it didn't matter.
'This guy tanked the hits?!' Roran was given no ti to be surprised as he had to defend himself from Zaroth's slash.
Blocking the attack, Roran smirked. 'Just as I thought, he's weaker than and doesn't seem to know how to use a sword properly. He shouldn't be a problem… however,' his gaze shifted to the wolf, which was about to attack his blind spot. 'His beast… it must be at least uncommon. This will be tricky.'
Roran managed to duck below the wolf's charge, only to be attacked again by Zaroth. This ti, however, he had a plan—one that required him to take a hit for it to work.
Dodging Zaroth's attack by sidestepping, Roran grabbed his opponent's sword with his bare hand to stop the next strike. The feeling of his skin being cut wasn't pleasant, but knowing that he had stopped Zaroth's sword, he used the chance to slash.
Raising his sword, Roran created a beautiful arc in the air and inflicted a deep wound on Zaroth's chest.
Zaroth, unaccustod to pain, let go of his sword and collapsed to his knees, his hands trying to cover the deep wound.
Seeing his actions, Roran raised an eyebrow and said, "Hey… don't tell …"
*****
'Shit! This hurts!' Zaroth cursed. He had sohow managed to ignore the three shallow wounds he had received before, but the last one was a deep wound on his chest.
'How the hell is this training?! I feel like I'm going to die!' Zaroth was panicking, and for good reason. With the amount of blood he was losing, death didn't seem out of reach.
Roran's sudden voice broke Zaroth's frantic thoughts. "Hey… don't tell …"
"What?" Zaroth managed to ask, though his voice was weak, and it felt like he might pass out at any mont.
"Did you enter combat without knowing how this room works?" Roran asked, crossing his arms. "Considering you haven't lived in the big cities, I guess that's not too surprising…"
'What is he talking about?' Zaroth thought, his vision blurring. 'I'm about to die, and he's lecturing ?!'
"You won't die," Roran interrupted, sitting on the ground and smiling faintly.
"What… how can you be so sure?" Zaroth asked between shallow breaths.
Instead of answering, Roran pointed to the ceiling. Zaroth followed his gaze and squinted at sothing faintly glowing above him—a rune. His eyes widened slightly. 'What is that?' he wondered.
A mont later, a strange green light materialized above his head. Warmth enveloped him, and he felt his wounds begin to close at an unnaturally fast rate. Glancing at Roran, he noticed the sa light surrounding him, healing his injuries as well.
After a few minutes, both of them were healed, looking like nothing had happened.
Zaroth was too bewildered to move, he just stared at his chest, which had been gushing like a fountain not too long ago.
Seeing his confusion, Roran smiled as he explained,
"This is Live Combat Practice, right? We can't exactly use wooden swords because it wouldn't count as real practice. The only option left is to use real weapons."
He pointed at the sharp tip of his blade. "But real weapons are dangerous. They can kill soone, right? That's why we're in this room. I'm not sure exactly how it works, but it heals all injuries you receive during the duel, patches you up, and lets you fight again."
"This… isn't what I expected," Zaroth admitted, still in shock. His words earned a wider smile from Roran.
"Yeah, it takes so getting used to," Roran said. "But look at the bright side. Here, you gain experience that's basically the sa as real combat, and you also train your pain tolerance."
"So, you are telling that everyone in our class would be training the sa way?" Zaroth asked, beginning to look at his peers with more respect.
Only for Roran to crush that respect in an instant, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly before answering,
"Not really. While the room is intended to be used in that way, most students would chicken out and half-ass their training, most likely because they are scared of the pain."
Now that he was done explaining, Roran's eyes suddenly shone brighter blue as he asked Zaroth a question.
"So, tell , are you going to chicken out as well? Or…"
"Roran," Zaroth interrupted Roran with a smile, "This class is what? An hour and a half… and not more than five minutes have passed… do you know what this ans?"
Roran raised an eyebrow, "What?"
Standing with a grunt, Zaroth's eyes seed to narrow as a nacing smile appeared on his face. Getting into position, he answered.
"That you are about to feel a lot of pain."
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