"Impressive." Gareth nodded toward Skyrend as the eagle settled back onto its perch. "Quite impressive." His gaze lingered on the severed tree in the distance. "And honestly?" A grin slowly spread across his face. "Quite terrifying."
Everyone present silently agreed. An eagle capable of crossing hundreds of meters in moments and slicing through trees as if they were paper was not something anyone could dismiss.
Gareth's attention eventually returned to Raymond. "But I'm not here to fight the pet."
"He isn't a pet," Raymond immediately corrected. "He's family."
"Screeeech!" Skyrend enthusiastically supported the statement.
Leon sighed from the sidelines. "Now he even knows the bird's gender."
Cedric chuckled. Arthur looked suspiciously amused.
"You keep calling him a pet." Raymond looked offended. Skyrend looked even more offended.
Gareth simply laughed. "Fine." He rolled his shoulders. "I'm not here to fight your family." His grin widened. "I'm here to fight you." The old warrior pointed directly at Raymond. "Come on then. Show me what those new muscles can do. Let's see how much you've improved."
Raymond stepped forward, confidence radiating from him. "Gladly." He cracked his neck. "Just don't complain afterwards. I won't be holding back today."
Gareth laughed so hard that even Cedric smiled. "Good. That's the spirit." Then the old warrior's grin slowly twisted into something far more dangerous. "Just hope you don't regret those words later."
The moment Gareth finished speaking, a chill ran down Raymond's spine—a familiar feeling, the same feeling every soldier experienced moments before realizing they had made a terrible mistake.
Before Raymond could respond, Skyrend suddenly screeched and launched from his shoulder, flying toward a nearby tree. Apparently even he understood it was time to create some distance. Smart bird. Very smart bird. Raymond suddenly wished he had followed.
Then Gareth moved.
The world blurred. Raymond's enhanced eyes tracked the motion instantly—for the first time in his life he could actually see Gareth moving. That alone was astonishing. Unfortunately, seeing something and reacting to it were two entirely different things. By the time Raymond's body responded, Gareth's fist was already there.
BOOM!
The impact detonated like a cannon shot. A visible shockwave erupted from the collision, dust exploding outward, the ground cracking. And Raymond vanished—or rather, he was launched. His body tumbled across the training field like a ragdoll. One bounce. Two bounces. Three. The earth tore apart beneath him as he finally dug his claw-like nails into the ground, long trenches appearing behind him before he eventually came to a stop.
For several moments nobody spoke. Gareth lowered his fist. "...Huh." That was not the reaction he expected.
The dust slowly settled. A figure stood up. Cough. Cough. Raymond spat dirt from his mouth. His chest hurt. His ribs hurt. Everything hurt. But he was standing.
Gareth's eyebrows rose. "Still conscious?" The old warrior sounded genuinely impressed. "I used roughly sixty percent of my strength in that punch." A grin spread across his face. "You should be proud. You've improved considerably."
Raymond blinked. Honestly, he was a little surprised himself. He had fully expected broken ribs, possibly a collapsed lung, maybe even unconsciousness. Instead he merely felt battered. The pain was significant. But manageable.
A loud screech suddenly echoed across the field. Skyrend stood atop his branch, flapping excitedly, as though encouraging him. Show them. Fight back.
Raymond's confidence immediately returned. He straightened, cracked his neck, then grinned. "Honestly?" He spat another mouthful of dirt. "Your punch was weaker than I expected."
Silence. Absolute silence. Cedric slowly lowered his notebook. Arthur closed his eyes. Leon felt every hair on his body stand up.
Gareth's smile disappeared. "Good." The old warrior cracked his knuckles. "Looks like I've been underestimating you."
Leon immediately clasped his hands together. "May the gods grant my brother a pleasant place in the afterlife." Nobody disagreed. Even Cedric looked concerned.
Arthur silently nodded, his eyes never leaving Raymond. The transformation had exceeded expectations. Far exceeded them.
Meanwhile Gareth took another step forward, then another, then vanished. This time Raymond was ready. His enhanced sight followed every movement and his body reacted instantly—a fist shot toward Gareth. For a brief moment Raymond genuinely believed he had succeeded.
Then reality arrived.
BOOM!
A second explosion erupted. The two fists collided. Gareth didn't move. Not even an inch. He stood like a mountain. Raymond, however, was launched through the air once more.
"Ouch." Leon visibly winced. "That definitely broke something."
But when the dust settled, Raymond stood up again. Still standing. Still grinning. Still asking for more. Skyrend released another excited screech from his branch.
Raymond pointed toward Gareth. "Again, old man."
Gareth's grin returned, this time much wider. "Gladly."
BOOM! Raymond flew. He got up. BOOM! He flew again. He got up. BOOM! The explosion grew louder, the distance increased, the damage to the training ground became progressively worse. And yet Raymond kept standing back up. Again. And again. And again.
Everyone present could tell what was happening. Gareth was increasing his strength little by little—testing, probing, searching for the limit. But Raymond stubbornly refused to reach it.
BOOM! Raymond was launched across the training grounds once more. He rolled through the dirt, bounced twice, then dug his claw-like fingers into the earth to stop himself, long furrows appearing behind him. For a moment he remained crouched, breathing heavily. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. His chest felt as though it had been struck by a siege ram. His arms were numb. Several bruises had already darkened across his skin. Small cuts covered his body and more than a few were actively bleeding.
Yet none of it seemed serious. Nothing felt broken. Nothing felt crippling. Most importantly, his body simply refused to stay down.
Raymond slowly rose to his feet, a grin spreading across his face despite the pain. "Glad I'm not using my claws, old man." He raised one hand, the talon-like nails catching the morning sunlight. "Otherwise you'd be dealing with more than a little bleeding."
Leon glanced at those claws and suddenly felt very thankful he wasn't the one fighting Raymond.
Gareth merely snorted. "Be glad I'm not using my sword." The giant warrior rolled his shoulders. "Otherwise that head of yours would've been rolling across the ground ages ago." Then he vanished.
BOOM!
Raymond's reply never had the chance to leave his mouth. A fist buried itself into his stomach, the impact folding him in half. His body shot backward like a cannonball, dust erupting wherever he landed.
Leon visibly winced. Cedric pushed his spectacles slightly higher up his nose. Even Arthur's eyes narrowed a fraction.
Meanwhile Raymond struggled back to his feet once again. Every fibre of his being hurt. His muscles burned. His bones ached. His lungs felt ready to burst. And yet beneath the pain there was something else. Something strange. Something exhilarating. A seemingly endless current of energy surged through his veins. Each time he stood back up the exhaustion faded slightly. Each time he endured another blow his body seemed to adapt, to harden, to grow accustomed—almost as if the blood pact itself refused to let him collapse.
Raymond spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground. Then grinned. "Again."
A loud screech immediately answered him. From atop the nearby tree, Skyrend spread his metallic wings and let out an excited cry. The eagle looked far too invested in the outcome of the match.
Another round of clashes followed—though "clashes" was perhaps the wrong word. A clash implied two equal sides. This was still a one-sided beating. The only difference was that Raymond stubbornly refused to stay down. Again. And again. And again. Each impact shook the training grounds, each impact sent him flying, yet somehow he always climbed back to his feet.
Gareth watched the spectacle with growing interest. "Impressive." BOOM! Another punch landed. Raymond skidded across the ground. "Indeed, impressive." Gareth nodded in genuine approval. "You've managed to make your body sturdier than any armor known to mankind."
Raymond grinned despite the blood on his face. The compliment felt earned.
Then Gareth's smile slowly twisted. A familiar smile. The kind that always preceded suffering. "But..." The giant warrior rolled his shoulders. "Let's see whether your insides are just as sturdy."
The moment those words left his mouth, Gareth vanished. His speed reached an entirely different level. Raymond's pupils contracted—for the first time since the fight began, genuine fear gripped his heart. He could still see Gareth. Barely. His enhanced eyes tracked the movement. But his body couldn't keep up. Too fast. Far too fast.
Instinctively Raymond braced himself for another devastating blow, one that would send him flying once again. But the impact never came. Instead he felt a massive palm rest gently against his stomach.
Raymond froze. Confusion flashed across his face. The towering warrior stood directly before him, a faint shadow falling over Raymond's body. For a brief moment all he registered was Gareth's grin.
Then something happened. A strange vibration emerged from Gareth's palm. Tiny at first, almost harmless. Then it traveled inward—through skin, through muscle, through bone, into his organs. And suddenly the vibration exploded.
Raymond's entire stomach twisted violently. His eyes widened. His face turned green. Then—
"BLEAAARGH!"
Last night's dinner erupted from his mouth. The training grounds fell silent. Raymond dropped to one knee, still vomiting.
Looking at the scene, Gareth threw his head back and laughed uproariously. "There it is!" The giant warrior pointed at him. "So your insides are still fragile!"
Raymond couldn't even respond. His stomach had apparently decided that everything he had eaten in the last twenty-four hours was now an enemy. Another wave hit. "BLEAAARGH!" His misery continued.
A deafening screech suddenly split the air. SKREEEEEECH! A golden blur descended from the nearby tree. Skyrend shot across the training grounds and landed beside Raymond. The metallic eagle looked genuinely alarmed, its feathers rattling loudly as it spread its wings. Then it turned toward Gareth. The bird's golden eyes narrowed, its talons digging into the ground. A low growl-like screech escaped its beak. It looked ready to attack. Immediately.
Gareth raised both hands. "Hey. Don't look at me like that, little bird." The old warrior sounded thoroughly amused. "If I wanted to hurt him, he wouldn't just be vomiting right now."
Skyrend clearly wasn't convinced. The eagle took another threatening step forward, its metallic feathers clinking together.
"Easy." Raymond finally managed to lift a hand, though doing so required considerable effort. "I'm fine."
Skyrend immediately looked toward him. Raymond wiped his mouth, then regretted the motion as another wave of nausea struck. "I think."
The eagle stared at him for several moments, then reluctantly relaxed, though its eyes never left Gareth. Not for a second.
By now Raymond's stomach was completely empty. Unfortunately that didn't stop his body from trying. Another miserable retch escaped him. Only bile came out this time.
Watching the scene, Leon wasn't sure whether he should laugh or be concerned. After a long moment of consideration he chose both. "I think brother kind of deserved this."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
Leon shrugged. "He was getting a little too confident."
Cedric nodded thoughtfully. "A little?"
Arthur looked at the miserable Raymond, then at the concerned eagle beside him, then at Gareth, who still looked far too pleased with himself. For perhaps the first time all morning, the city lord smiled. "I agree."
The lesson appeared to have been effective.