Vermilion was looking down on Isle. Both metaphorically and physically.
Isle was on the floor, sweating. He lay on his back, looking back at Vermilion.
"Get up, stupid student."
About 13 days had passed in the odd realm that Isle had found himself in; it was impossible for Isle to tell how much time had passed in Pandora.
That was one other thing that Isle knew before coming in.
Time in Shattered Memories flowed differently than it did in the real world, though it was randomized for each person and trial.
In the few days that'd passed in this realm, Vermilion had decided he would teach Isle how to fight.
Isle had already improved his skills significantly, but Vermilion wasn't going to stop until he felt like Isle was ready.
Isle stood up. He was visibly more muscular than before he had entered Shattered Memories, though not by much.
Several bruises and a few scars from training with Vermilion covered him.
The scars formed by forced healing via Vermilion's mana. The bruises were left simply because Vermilion didn't care to heal them.
"Can't I have a break? It's been 3 straight days of this…"
Isle was sweating as he slowly got to his feet.
"You can't have a break until you're worthy of one, now get up."
Vermilion looked the same as he did before he started fighting Isle; his shirt had automatically been repaired at some point in time, and he wore his cloak once again.
"You really think I'll lose when you're wearing that?"
Isle stretched his arms, then his legs. He ruffled his hair; it still hung in the air from his contract with Caeruleus.
"If anything, I'm stronger like this, Calamitas."
Isle was confused about how he could move freely in such a heavy veil, but he didn't question it further. He got into a stance.
Isle was in a stance for one second, and the next, he was instantly down to the ground. He kicked Vermilion's legs in an attempt to sweep him.
He stood casually as if Isle had hit him with a pillow. Isle shot back up and brought his leg up before slamming it down at Vermilion. He grabbed Isle's leg with a blank expression, then punched him in the gut.
Isle couldn't block it in time, so he used mana to reinforce his skin.
When Vermilion's hand made contact with Isle's skin, it didn't cause any pain, so he tanked it and countered with a knee to Vermilion's stomach.
It was easily blocked with his hand, and he threw Isle back.
"Hm… decent."
His hand slowly moved back under his cloak; the cloak opened once again. Vermilion's hand was out, his palm wide open.
Isle's eyes widened, and he raised his arms to block what was to come. Unlike he'd thought, Vermilion didn't use any magic.
He rushed towards Isle and grabbed his arms.
Isle was surprised for a second before he attempted to break away from him by kicking him. Vermilion had no reaction to Isle's kick; he hurled Isle into the ground. Isle coughed as he lay sprawled out on his back.
He was gasping for air when Vermilion scolded him.
"Pay attention, Calamitas. You'll die if you don't."
He offered his hand to Isle. Isle looked up at Vermilion.
He frowned at Vermilion, then smacked his hand, before getting up by himself.
"Use mana the way I taught you, and maybe you won't get your ass beat."
He spoke condescendingly to Isle.
But how was Isle supposed to suddenly "use mana"? It's not like he could just make it happen.
Learning to use mana typically involves slowly pushing mana into different parts of your body to form mana routes. This happens naturally and is usually complete a few months after birth.
These routes typically wouldn't be very precise and would gradually improve as you used mana.
Instead of the normal method that most went through, of letting it naturally occur, Isle was being forced by Vermilion to send all his mana to one place at a time to quickly enhance his mana routes.
This method had several negatives and only a few positives. Through this rough and outlandish method, Isle had damaged his body; his whole body was sore.
He also lost a majority of his mana. He would need a while before he'd reach max capacity again.
For the positives, as mentioned before. Isle had more mana routes than the average person, which allowed for largely enhanced mana absorption and precision with his mana.
Due to him using a large amount of his mana while enhancing each mana route, some of the mana couldn't be contained, and it broke out to make more precise routes.
This by itself wasn't anything crazy, as higher-level demons had many mana routes as well. What made it crazy was the fact that Isle was a level zero human with as many, if not a little more, mana routes than most high-level demons.
"I know that," Isle's fists were clenched, "So don't say it like I'm stupid, for fucks sake."
He got into the same stance as before.
"You should be happy I can use mana at all after your bullshit…"
He grumbled unintelligibly.
Isle wasn't wrong, after all; he didn't have much mana after using most of it to cultivate his routes.
"What was that?" Vermilion asked as he calmly started to barrage Isle with strikes.
"As if I can answer while you're trying to kill me!"
He said through gritted teeth while blocking Vermilion's strikes. He attacked whenever he could.
"That's what I thought."
Vermilion smiled smugly.
Vermilion's teaching style pissed Isle off. He would completely ignore blows or just deflect them without breaking a single sweat; it made it hard for Isle to tell if he was growing or not.
To make it worse, he rarely got any input from Vermilion on how to better his technique, unless it was deemed "Necessary" by Vermilion.
Eventually, Isle found an opening in Vermilion's assault, and he punched him in the chest. He would've used mana to enhance his hand, but he didn't have enough to spend on offense; he'd much rather save it for defense.
Like before, his punch hadn't done anything to Vermilion. He was still under a harsh barrage from his current teacher.
"You're a horrible teacher, can't you teach me some other way…?"
He had expected a response back, but Vermilion had only intensified his already lethal barrage. Isle was starting to falter; he barely blocked each of the strikes in time, and the rare openings he could find before had all but vanished.
Isle was going to collapse if this kept on; to even get close to winning, he'd have to think of something, and he'd have to think of it fast. Vermilion didn't look like he had any plans of stopping.
Isle thought that if he could disengage for even a second, he could recover. Isle forced mana into his feet and calves, in an attempt to escape from Vermilion's attacks.
His muscles in his calves and his feet ached, and he jumped back as far as he could manage.
His plan had worked, and he had broken free from his teacher's merciless attacks.
He used his quantum; he felt some of his mana being consumed.
A simple dagger appeared in his hand.
"Good enough," Isle said as he rushed towards Vermilion, clutching onto the dagger tightly.
Vermilion's eyes pried at Isle, reading into what he planned. He stood while he was patiently tapping on his arm. He was curious as to what Isle was now planning.
Isle stopped just in front of Vermilion before he vanished from Vermilion's sight, or so he thought. He instantly appeared behind Vermilion and stabbed him.
The dagger went through his cloak but stopped almost immediately after. Isle's eyes widened slightly as he saw it.
He tried to jump back, but without mana, he didn't make it very far. Vermilion swiftly turned around before he dashed towards Isle.
Isle threw his dagger at Vermilion; he knocked it away as effortlessly as usual.
Isle ran towards Vermilion and directed the rest of his mana into his right leg. He tried to kick his teacher in the chest before he could retaliate.
His kick was about to land when a gust of wind shot him away.
He slid across the floor; he slammed his right hand into the floor until he slowly came to a halt.
'That was the last of my mana…' Isle thought.
Isle's fingers were bleeding. Flowers bloomed on the floor as usual. He shook his hand and looked up at Vermilion.
Vermilion slowly walked towards him, his lips curving down slightly in a frown.
Isle was completely out of mana at this point. He tilted his head down to look at his arms; they were both bruised and bleeding. He had known that his arms were damaged, but he had no idea of just how much they really were.
Isle got back into a stance when he felt as if something was watching him. The once blue sky had become dark, and the roses and petals around him were withering.
His legs had given out—he was sweating profusely. Vermilion glanced at him, then shook his head.
"He's awake,"
Isle's eyes widened as he stared at Vermilion, searching for any answer to his anguish.
"Your way out of here, I mean."