"Do you need a minute?" Kali asked.

"No, I am…" Alarion frowned as he checked his status. Even with Bergman acting as an intermediary, the siphon had drained nearly a quarter of his MP in a matter of seconds. "… I could use a minute."

"Take your time." There was a glimmer of concern in the Sergeant's eyes as he passed Alarion and registered his mana without issue. "You will need to be at your best."

"How does this work?" Alarion asked, ignoring the jibe.

"The pylons create a suppression field that acts like a skill cuff, preventing you from using any of your registered skills." ZEKE said, his tone matter of fact. "At the same time, it uses illusion and force magic to make it feel as though you're using your skills and fighting with your weapons, while preventing any actual impact."

Alarion frowned. "Suppression effects can cover an area?"

"Normally, n-no," Bergman said. "At least not without b-being massively above rank. Linking to it creates a sympathetic bond that allows it to influence and suppress you far more easily, but you should be able t-to break the illusion or the suppression if you choose to."

"So, none of it is real?"

"The pain is," Kali assured him.

"I think you will find my pupil has a high tolerance in that regard." ZEKE's miniature form paced a line between two pylons, as though walking a balancing beam. The array's magic warped one side of his projection, and the Steelborn seemed endlessly fascinated by the phenomenon, dipping an arm in and out as he spoke. "I certainly struck him enough times."

"That might be the nicest thing he has ever said about you," Nessa said.

"Mm," Alarion grunted. "I think I am ready."

"T-that corner, then," Bergman pointed.

Alarion did as instructed, stretching as he walked. He could feel twinges of pain as he tested the limits of his mobility, the legacy of his newest flaw. It had been months since he had fought, and while he was confident, he knew he was far from his best.

"Any rules?" Alarion asked.

Kali shook his head as he settled in the opposite corner. "I want to see what you're capable of firsthand. Come at me with everything."

"N-no damaging the pylons," Bergman added, a bit too accusingly.

"And don't damage the toy," the Sergeant agreed.

Alarion nodded and waited. Bergman tapped at his device, cycling through options for several seconds until the atmosphere shifted.

Instantly, he felt the malaise of skill suppression, the uncomfortable cold and mild nausea he had become unsettlingly used to during his various stints in custody. Just as quickly, however, the feeling abated, though not entirely. It was as if the suppression field was itself being suppressed, and looking inward, he realized that was precisely what was happening. The mind-altering effect of the pylon was overriding most of his discomfort, pretending that all was well.

Alarion was not a fan. The True Heart had twisted his mind into knots during their battle, and the experience had left him with scars beyond those listed on his status. He was deeply distrustful of anything that sought to toy with his senses, and while some of that would be necessary here, he would set his own limits.

The strand of suppression was easy to find with his [Unraveller's Sense]—and just as easy to unwind. Unlike the modified [Void Trap] used by the True Heart, this magic's workings were laid bear. Just one tug, and the discomfort came flooding back.

It was unpleasant—but honest. He preferred that.

The air around him shivered, and Alarion watched in fascination as illusory copies of his weapons materialized, floating in the air before him.

"You won't be able to t-teleport with Echo," Bergman warned. "This system can't duplicate t-the effect. The mace should still work for your spells, though."

Alarion reached out and took the weapons. They felt half-real at first but solidified quickly as he made a few tentative swings. These felt wrong, like flawed copies of his treasured armaments. They'd do the job, but he understood the Vitrian complaint about the system. If he used the array for most of his training, things would be subtly off when it came time to put those lessons into practice.

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"T-that should be it. Everything is initialized."

Kali opened his arms. "Ready when you are, Orph-"

Alarion was on him before the name was finished. One heartbeat was all it took to cross the small space and drive Echo toward Kali's throat. A narrow dodge followed, the air crackling with the array's magic as the greatsword cut a nasty gash along Kali's cheek.

Kali's retribution was just as swift. A punishing straight right caught Alarion lagging, but the left hook that followed was not so fortunate. The Godborn pressed his advantage with several more strikes, then retreated in advance of a clearing strike from Alarion's mace.

"Right for the throat…" Kali grunted, more in admiration than alarm.

"You said you were ready."

Kali's laugh was his only rebuttal as they clashed again. The clang of steel rang out against stone walls as Alarion feinted with his left and attacked with his right. Echo's edge met the blur of Kali's forearm, only barely deflected as the Sergeant slipped inside his guard with a grin that promised violence. His shoulder slammed into Alarion's chest, driving him back a step.

Alarion exhaled sharply, twisting with the impact, and brought the mace up in a brutal arc full of malice and magic. "Void Crush!"

"Too slow," ZEKE announced, before the wave of destruction had even cleared.

"Shut up." Alarion snarled. He'd started backpedaling the moment his mace met no resistance, but it wasn't enough. Kali had swayed to the left, coming in on the outside to punish the overcommitment. The punches rained down hard and fast, brutalizing Alarion as he gave up more and more ground.

"Solar Burst!" he chanted, flooding the small room with light and heat. The damage from the spell was not nearly enough to force Kali back, but the disorientation paused his rhythm just long enough for Alarion to disrupt it fully with a short one-two combination from Echo.

The problem was obvious to him. Kali was fast, faster than anyone he'd ever fought. The closest comparison Alarion could recall was his 'battle' with the former Governor, Dar Elzmir. Kali was slower, or Alarion was faster, so the gap between them was not so large as to be insurmountable, but it was still problematic.

In close, Kali threw punches so fast that Alarion could barely follow them, let alone prepare an adequate defense. Reach was Alarion's only advantage, but the speed was just as much of a problem there. He needed precise spacing to keep the Godborn at bay, and that was hard to manage in close quarters against someone so fast.

Desperate for an edge, he triggered [Foresight]—and realized his mistake.

The collage of possible attacks hit him almost as hard as the Sergeant did, the information overload filling his mind with dozens of possible futures seconds before reality caught up with him. Disoriented, the clean punch sent Alarion sprawling. The follow-up attacks were quick and brutal, a knee pinning him to the ground as the big man rained down one hammer fist after another.

The pain built, and then it was over.

A chipper fanfare accompanied the end of the bout, and the weight on his chest eased as Kali stood and offered him a hand. Or rather, fifty different overlapping hands.

It seemed in every possible future, Kali was gracious in victory.

"You were off to a good start," the Sergeant said as he helped Alarion to his feet. "A losing one, but you were keeping me at bay right up until you weren't."

"I used the wrong skill," Alarion explained. His vision was still blurry, even after deactivating [Foresight], and he had considerably more sympathy for the damage Bergman had inflicted on himself back in Shae-Yomag. "Again?"

"That is the advantage of the array. The only things you're spending are time and stamina. Let me know when you are-"

Alarion's swing definitely let him know.

--

"Come on, you can do it. 1-96 is within your grasp," Nessa called out as Alarion returned to his corner. Never his most convincing supporter, she had long since given up on watching the fights, choosing instead to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling. Filtering through her 'memories', if he had to guess.

It was hard to blame her lack of interest, given how one-sided the affair had become. Alarion had no delusions that he would win one of these fights; those had been beaten out of him hours earlier, but the idea of even putting up a decent showing felt as though it were slipping further and further out of reach. Kali was not only faster than him, but also stronger and more durable. Alarion's only advantage was his magic, and that had proven to be a middling strength at best.

They were too far apart. Kali was a close combat specialist at the higher end of rank II, with physical attributes all well over 1,000. With his various advantages, Alarion's overall attribute total was probably higher, but they were spread out over his entire status, with over half of them in his LUK. Against someone of his own rank, he was a nightmare, but against a higher ranked specialist, he was woefully ill-equipped.

Even his own subconscious was dubious:

Give Almost as Good as You Get

Description: The odds are against you, but you have never been one to quit. Show the Sergeant that you are more than a punching bag.

Success Conditions: Reduce Sgt. Kali to 50% of his total HP during a legitimate bout.

Failure Conditions: Fail to meet success conditions within 100 attempts.

Reward: One Exceptional Instructor Box.

Penalty: None.

At first, the quest had felt insulting when it appeared after his third straight loss. Dozens of matches later, he had to admit it was only fair. What once looked like a low bar now loomed ever-present overhead. Were it not for the tantalizing promise of a reward, they would have wrapped up hours earlier. But Alarion was nothing if not pointlessly stubborn.

"Four more," Kali reminded him, as if Alarion could ever lose track. "I can't go easy on you."

"I know." Only a fair win would count. How the system kept track, Alarion didn't have the slightest idea, but it didn't matter. He needed to focus.

The whole affair reminded him of his endless bouts against the dragon, set in reverse. Back then, he'd been the only one learning, the only one improving. But Kali was the more seasoned fighter. Like ZEKE, he had quickly identified many of Alarion's quirks, his weaknesses and strategies, then ruthlessly exploited them. He improved at fighting Alarion quicker than Alarion improved at fighting him.

Something had to change.

"When you're ready."

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