Rise of the Godking
37 The First Session
"Upper right!"
The call echoing in his ears, Daneel raised his fists to his right, waiting for the blow that would renew the pounding pain that radiated through his wrists.
Instead, a blow hit him square in his stomach, making him stagger back and look to the right with accusing eyes.
One of the twins stood there. For the life of him, he still couldn't figure out which one was which, so he had taken to just called them 'one twin' and 'the other twin' in his mind.
"In battle, callouts can't be trusted. You should learn to defend no matter where a blow comes from."
The excuse was followed by a shrug that was downright infuriating.
"But you said that this exercise was to coordinate my reflexes! What's the fucking point of the callout if they aren't accurate?"
"The point is to train you. And we'll do it the way we please. So shut up and get back to the mark."
His stomach still smarting, Daneel stared daggers at the twin standing calmly to the side as he walked forward.
He and the old man had talked late into the night, and the story that had been told was still fresh in his mind. As a result, he hadn't gotten much sleep, but even if that wasn't the case, he could tell that these two were lying bastards who were just out to inflict as much pain as possible.
Just the first ten minutes of their first training session had ended with him wishing that he could plant his fists in both of their faces. The one he had been sparring with had exceptionally strong fists; it had been hard enough to defend when the callouts had been accurate, so now that he knew that he would have to worry about whether they would be false or not, he expected to have to eat a lot more blows.
There was a simple solution to it all, but if he used it, he would be the dumbest person alive. The system was always watching. He could ask it and find out from which direction the next punch would be coming, but he knew that such godlike reflexes were definitely not expected from one at his level.
For ten more minutes, he went through the excruciating exercise. At the end, he came out of it with four punches that had set his ribs afire. There had been five false callouts, and he had only been able to stop himself from falling for one.
'Still… it's a start.'
The twins had called for a one-minute break. One of them took out a gourd of water from somewhere in his clothes, and Daneel stretched out his hand, expecting it to be handed to him.
The two looked at him, and laughed.
He felt all the more parched when they helped themselves, and even brought out snacks to eat. He then realized that he should have known to bring refreshments, but as he hadn't had much time in the morning after waking up, he had come here empty-handed.
Next came the part he had been dreading the most. In fact, when he had come here, he had expected that they would start with it right away, so it had been a pleasant surprise(then) to find that the training would be split into two sessions.
The twins arrayed themselves in front of him, sharing expectant glances and cracking their knuckles as if they were getting ready for a show. In perfect sync, they brought their hands up in the same stance that Daneel had taken the day before.
It was what was commonly taught by the taskmaster, and with no other option, Daneel adopted it, too, even though it was only meant for one-on-one combat.
Carefully, he studied the two of them, taking soft steps to the left and right so that they would be unsure about jumping on him like they had before. They circled him, weaving between each other, sometimes even hiding one behind the other, but for an entire minute, they made no move.
Then, all of a sudden, they roared and ran forward.
They maintained their stance, one hand behind their backs, one outstretched, fingers curled into a fist. They had chosen a perfect moment when one was in front and one was behind him, so Daneel was hemmed in.
With a burst of strength, he jumped aside at the last moment, and he hoped that they would slam into each other.
Only… all he heard was the sound of a fist grabbing something, and as he looked above, he found the grinning face of one of the twins somersaulting in the air before sending out a foot and kicking him in the face.
He fell backward, into the waiting arms of the other twin. Two fists dug into his back, making a shockwave run through his entire body, and he lurched forward again.
As if this was a game of catch, his brother was right in front, poised perfectly to pick up the ball that was Daneel. He seemed to be partial to using his feet, as he sent another kick flying that swept Daneel's feet from under his body and made him fall to the floor.
He curled up, expecting a beat down, but thankfully, no other attacks arrived.
"Get your sorry ass to your feet. If this was a real fight, you would be dead a hundred times by now. We begin again."
And so the training continued. As the minutes passed, frustration kept building up inside him, born as a little ball but quickly transforming into a star that engulfed his whole mind.
He didn't land a punch. Not a single one.
He cursed each and every moment the original occupant of his body had wasted, believing that he was so talented that he didn't need to train much, at all. He cursed the sadistic smiles that appeared on each of the twin's faces with each successful blow, lopsided on one and decorated with missing teeth on the other. He cursed the land, he cursed the air, and he cursed the very world that had put him in the situation.
He lost all track of time, but he was able to quickly estimate how much had passed based on how much strength he had left. He began to slow down and tire, but that was when he saw the first sign that his opponents were on the same level as him: they were faring the same, and as they began to get sluggish, a seed of confidence burst into bloom in Daneel's mind.
'Yes… for all the posturing, they're still Neophytes, like me! They just have more experience. And, yeah, there are two of them… but that's something I can deal with later. First… I want to see at least one of them take a punch. I'll make it happen!'
From then on, he kept watching like a hawk. He was on the defensive, for the most part, already having realized that rushing headlong after giving in to the frustration would only cause much more pain than he would normally have to endure. They used their numbers to great effect; whenever Daneel dodged one, there would always be the other ready to send him scrambling or, in the worst case, into the ground, but slowly, he began to see the hints of his chance.
The only problem… was that if he wanted to make use of it, he needed to be faster than he had in this entire session.
'It's just for a single moment… I'll use everything I have, and all I can do is hope that it'll be enough.'
With a plan in motion, he felt calmer than ever. He waited, waited, and waited… until the opportunity presented itself in a most unexpected way.
After landing a rap on Daneel's forehead, one of the twins had just sauntered back with an infuriatingly smug smirk. The problem… was that he had been a bit too smug, and hence, he hadn't noticed that his brother was right behind him.
The other twin was quick enough to move away so that they wouldn't collide, but for the briefest of instants, both of them were unguarded.
Daneel had just taken a hit. Normally, this would be the time he would be spending to deal with the pain, but he moved forward.
He urged his legs to move as fast as they could, as the chance would be gone if he was even a fraction of a second late. There was no way to hide his movements; the twins spotted him, and both of them hastened to get out of the vulnerable position they were in.
He suddenly saw that he was too slow. Just as he had estimated, he would fall short just a tiny bit.
'If only I had one extra ounce of power! Just a single iota of speed! I wish…no! Wishes are nothing! I want it! No…I NEED IT!'
All of a sudden, he felt a faint… pull, from somewhere deep inside him.
It resulted in two things happening: first, a wave of fatigue much like the one that had come in the aftermath of the system being given a task appeared in his body.
And, second… he felt the singular gratification that could be experienced only if one broke past their limits. For that single moment, it was as if the entire world was in his grasp.
His body moved smoothly. His fist shot through the air. His lips broadened, already knowing what was soon going to come… and the twins snarled, but to no avail.
His punch sent one flying back right into the arms of his brother. Both of them fell to the ground on top of each other, and with a triumphant, wordless yell, Daneel jumped in the air.
[Improvement detected. Progress of host can now be quantified. Calculating progress percentage…]
The system's announcement only made him happier. Turning to the twins, he opened his mouth to speak, and even though he knew then, itself, that it would result in a lot of pain…he said his piece with a grin.
"One. Get up, get up. I'm keeping score…and you can bet that we'll be even by the time I soar past you. Up and at 'em, boys!"
The call echoing in his ears, Daneel raised his fists to his right, waiting for the blow that would renew the pounding pain that radiated through his wrists.
Instead, a blow hit him square in his stomach, making him stagger back and look to the right with accusing eyes.
One of the twins stood there. For the life of him, he still couldn't figure out which one was which, so he had taken to just called them 'one twin' and 'the other twin' in his mind.
"In battle, callouts can't be trusted. You should learn to defend no matter where a blow comes from."
The excuse was followed by a shrug that was downright infuriating.
"But you said that this exercise was to coordinate my reflexes! What's the fucking point of the callout if they aren't accurate?"
"The point is to train you. And we'll do it the way we please. So shut up and get back to the mark."
His stomach still smarting, Daneel stared daggers at the twin standing calmly to the side as he walked forward.
He and the old man had talked late into the night, and the story that had been told was still fresh in his mind. As a result, he hadn't gotten much sleep, but even if that wasn't the case, he could tell that these two were lying bastards who were just out to inflict as much pain as possible.
Just the first ten minutes of their first training session had ended with him wishing that he could plant his fists in both of their faces. The one he had been sparring with had exceptionally strong fists; it had been hard enough to defend when the callouts had been accurate, so now that he knew that he would have to worry about whether they would be false or not, he expected to have to eat a lot more blows.
There was a simple solution to it all, but if he used it, he would be the dumbest person alive. The system was always watching. He could ask it and find out from which direction the next punch would be coming, but he knew that such godlike reflexes were definitely not expected from one at his level.
For ten more minutes, he went through the excruciating exercise. At the end, he came out of it with four punches that had set his ribs afire. There had been five false callouts, and he had only been able to stop himself from falling for one.
'Still… it's a start.'
The twins had called for a one-minute break. One of them took out a gourd of water from somewhere in his clothes, and Daneel stretched out his hand, expecting it to be handed to him.
The two looked at him, and laughed.
He felt all the more parched when they helped themselves, and even brought out snacks to eat. He then realized that he should have known to bring refreshments, but as he hadn't had much time in the morning after waking up, he had come here empty-handed.
Next came the part he had been dreading the most. In fact, when he had come here, he had expected that they would start with it right away, so it had been a pleasant surprise(then) to find that the training would be split into two sessions.
The twins arrayed themselves in front of him, sharing expectant glances and cracking their knuckles as if they were getting ready for a show. In perfect sync, they brought their hands up in the same stance that Daneel had taken the day before.
It was what was commonly taught by the taskmaster, and with no other option, Daneel adopted it, too, even though it was only meant for one-on-one combat.
Carefully, he studied the two of them, taking soft steps to the left and right so that they would be unsure about jumping on him like they had before. They circled him, weaving between each other, sometimes even hiding one behind the other, but for an entire minute, they made no move.
Then, all of a sudden, they roared and ran forward.
They maintained their stance, one hand behind their backs, one outstretched, fingers curled into a fist. They had chosen a perfect moment when one was in front and one was behind him, so Daneel was hemmed in.
With a burst of strength, he jumped aside at the last moment, and he hoped that they would slam into each other.
Only… all he heard was the sound of a fist grabbing something, and as he looked above, he found the grinning face of one of the twins somersaulting in the air before sending out a foot and kicking him in the face.
He fell backward, into the waiting arms of the other twin. Two fists dug into his back, making a shockwave run through his entire body, and he lurched forward again.
As if this was a game of catch, his brother was right in front, poised perfectly to pick up the ball that was Daneel. He seemed to be partial to using his feet, as he sent another kick flying that swept Daneel's feet from under his body and made him fall to the floor.
He curled up, expecting a beat down, but thankfully, no other attacks arrived.
"Get your sorry ass to your feet. If this was a real fight, you would be dead a hundred times by now. We begin again."
And so the training continued. As the minutes passed, frustration kept building up inside him, born as a little ball but quickly transforming into a star that engulfed his whole mind.
He didn't land a punch. Not a single one.
He cursed each and every moment the original occupant of his body had wasted, believing that he was so talented that he didn't need to train much, at all. He cursed the sadistic smiles that appeared on each of the twin's faces with each successful blow, lopsided on one and decorated with missing teeth on the other. He cursed the land, he cursed the air, and he cursed the very world that had put him in the situation.
He lost all track of time, but he was able to quickly estimate how much had passed based on how much strength he had left. He began to slow down and tire, but that was when he saw the first sign that his opponents were on the same level as him: they were faring the same, and as they began to get sluggish, a seed of confidence burst into bloom in Daneel's mind.
'Yes… for all the posturing, they're still Neophytes, like me! They just have more experience. And, yeah, there are two of them… but that's something I can deal with later. First… I want to see at least one of them take a punch. I'll make it happen!'
From then on, he kept watching like a hawk. He was on the defensive, for the most part, already having realized that rushing headlong after giving in to the frustration would only cause much more pain than he would normally have to endure. They used their numbers to great effect; whenever Daneel dodged one, there would always be the other ready to send him scrambling or, in the worst case, into the ground, but slowly, he began to see the hints of his chance.
The only problem… was that if he wanted to make use of it, he needed to be faster than he had in this entire session.
'It's just for a single moment… I'll use everything I have, and all I can do is hope that it'll be enough.'
With a plan in motion, he felt calmer than ever. He waited, waited, and waited… until the opportunity presented itself in a most unexpected way.
After landing a rap on Daneel's forehead, one of the twins had just sauntered back with an infuriatingly smug smirk. The problem… was that he had been a bit too smug, and hence, he hadn't noticed that his brother was right behind him.
The other twin was quick enough to move away so that they wouldn't collide, but for the briefest of instants, both of them were unguarded.
Daneel had just taken a hit. Normally, this would be the time he would be spending to deal with the pain, but he moved forward.
He urged his legs to move as fast as they could, as the chance would be gone if he was even a fraction of a second late. There was no way to hide his movements; the twins spotted him, and both of them hastened to get out of the vulnerable position they were in.
He suddenly saw that he was too slow. Just as he had estimated, he would fall short just a tiny bit.
'If only I had one extra ounce of power! Just a single iota of speed! I wish…no! Wishes are nothing! I want it! No…I NEED IT!'
All of a sudden, he felt a faint… pull, from somewhere deep inside him.
It resulted in two things happening: first, a wave of fatigue much like the one that had come in the aftermath of the system being given a task appeared in his body.
And, second… he felt the singular gratification that could be experienced only if one broke past their limits. For that single moment, it was as if the entire world was in his grasp.
His body moved smoothly. His fist shot through the air. His lips broadened, already knowing what was soon going to come… and the twins snarled, but to no avail.
His punch sent one flying back right into the arms of his brother. Both of them fell to the ground on top of each other, and with a triumphant, wordless yell, Daneel jumped in the air.
[Improvement detected. Progress of host can now be quantified. Calculating progress percentage…]
The system's announcement only made him happier. Turning to the twins, he opened his mouth to speak, and even though he knew then, itself, that it would result in a lot of pain…he said his piece with a grin.
"One. Get up, get up. I'm keeping score…and you can bet that we'll be even by the time I soar past you. Up and at 'em, boys!"
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