Verd stood, breathing heavily, and looked at the larvae. They were gathering again, rolling around, rustling. Twenty, thirty creatures that half an hour ago had seemed invulnerable to him. He shifted his gaze to his sword. The blade was sticky with dark gore, the hilt slipping in his sweaty palm.
-Let's try, - he exhaled.
Arktia nodded and stepped aside, once again taking her observation post on the rise. Arms crossed over her chest. Face calm.
'She doesn't even doubt that I'll manage. Or does she just not care?'
The larvae were already regrouping. They didn't wait, didn't give any respite - just rolled, obeying a dull instinct. The nearest one was already three steps away.
Verd remembered how Arktia moved. Lightly. Smoothly. Like water flowing around stones.
'Easy for her to say. She has years of training behind her. I have nothing.'
The first larva rolled almost right up to him. Verd didn't strike. He stepped aside. It was clumsy, heavy, but he made it. The larva shot past, grazing his pant leg.
'It worked!'
The joy lasted exactly one second. The second larva was already flying at him from the other side. He jerked, trying to repeat the maneuver, but his legs wouldn't obey. The impact hit his thigh, and Verd swayed.
-You move like a cart with square wheels, - came from the rise. - Relax your legs. They're like wood.
Verd exhaled heavily, straightened up, took a deep breath, and tried to remember how Arktia stood. Knees slightly bent. Weight distributed. Core mobile.
A new larva rolled toward him. Verd crouched, letting it pass over his head, and at the moment its belly was directly above him, he thrust his sword upward.
The blade entered easily. Hot gore splashed across his face, but he didn't even flinch.
A fleeting smile appeared on his face.
-One, - he exhaled, shaking the carcass off his blade.
He hooked the next one with his foot, forcing it to flip over, and finished it while it helplessly wiggled its appendages. The third he simply tipped over with his hand and stomped with his bare foot.
'It's working! Damn it, it's working!'
But there was no time to celebrate. The larvae didn't end. They came from all sides, and every killed creature was instantly replaced by two new ones.
Verd moved. Dodge, duck, thrust. Dodge, tip over, stomp. Again. Again. Again.
His breathing broke within a minute. His legs filled with lead. His arm, gripping the sword, burned with fire - every strike echoed in his shoulder, his back, his neck.
'How many more are there?!'
He tried to count, but lost track after the tenth. The world narrowed to flickering shadows, the rustle of sand, his own hoarse breathing.
One larva crashed into his side. He swayed but held his ground. The second hit his knee. His leg buckled, he almost fell, but at the last moment he steadied himself, leaning on his sword.
-Keep your center of gravity, - Arktia's voice broke through the noise in his ears. - You're leaning to the right.
-I know! - Verd shouted quickly.
He straightened up, took a step back, and almost stepped on another larva. At the last moment he jumped aside, swung his sword, cut down one, two, three...
And then the larvae ended.
He didn't realize it right away. Just at some point, his next swing met not a sturdy shell, but the finger of the girl, who had stopped the sword without the slightest effort. Verd froze, breathing heavily, and looked around.
All around, as far as he could see, lay torn carcasses. There were more than last time. Far more. They covered the ground like a solid carpet, mixed with mud, sand, and clods of upturned earth.
Verd stood in the middle of this nightmare, and he was shaking. His whole body shook with a coarse, uncontrollable tremor. The sword in his hand wobbled, his fingers cramped, and he couldn't unclench them even when he tried.
His chest heaved. Air rushed into his lungs with a whistle, a wheeze, with some wet gurgling.
He took a step and nearly fell. His legs buckled, but somehow held. Arktia carefully grabbed him by the collar.
-How many? - she asked. - I'm asking, how many did you kill?
He shook his head. His mind was empty - only a hum, only noise, only flickering shadows that still stood before his eyes even when he closed them.
-Twenty-three, - Arktia said. - Twenty-three creatures in... - she glanced at the sky, estimating the time. - About twenty minutes. Maybe twenty-five.
Verd stared at her. The words came slowly, as if through a thick layer of cotton. He saw her lips move, heard the sounds, but the meaning slipped away, scattered before it could form in his mind.
'Twenty-three? I killed twenty-three creatures?'
-You're still slow, - Arktia continued. - Still clumsy. Still breathing like a steam engine.
She fell silent, carefully examining him from head to toe. Her gaze stopped on his hand, which still gripped the sword in a death grip. On his legs, which trembled but held. On his face, covered in someone else's blood and his own sweat.
-But still, there's some potential in you.
She tilted her head slightly, and satisfaction flickered in her eyes. Like a blacksmith looking at a freshly forged, still-hot workpiece.
-For the first day, it'll do.
Verd wanted to say something. Maybe make a snide remark. Maybe thank her. Maybe ask what the hell she was thinking, arranging training without even asking his opinion.
Instead, his legs finally gave out completely.
He just hung on her. Heavily, with all his weight, like a bag of rocks. Arktia didn't even sway - just shifted slightly, adjusting her grip on him.
-Rest, - she said. There was no mockery in her voice. No warmth - but no cold either. Just a statement of fact.
She knelt down, carefully laying him on the soft corpses of the monsters.
Verd lay and looked at the sky. It was bright blue, clear, indifferent. Somewhere far away a bird cried out. An ordinary bird, not a monster. Just a bird that didn't care at all that some idiot down below had just killed two dozen creatures.
'Another ceiling...'
-Five minutes, - came from somewhere to the side. - Then we'll do it again.
Verd closed his eyes.
'I'm not surprised somehow...'
He thought he would hate her for this. For not giving him a break. For pushing him like a misbehaving puppy. For watching his suffering with that calm, indifferent face.
But instead of hatred, something else came.
He opened one eye slightly and looked at her. Arktia sat nearby, tucking one leg under herself, and stared into the distance, at the horizon. The sun gilded her hair. The wind tugged at her clothes. Dust settled on her shoulders.
She didn't look at him. Didn't check if he was breathing. Didn't shake him, didn't give him water. Just sat nearby and waited for those five minutes to pass.
'How strange...'
A strange feeling. He couldn't name it. There was simply no such word in his vocabulary. But it was warm. Warm like the ground beneath his back. Like the sun on his face. Like...
-Mistress, - he said quietly.
-What do you want, dog?
-Can I just die?
She turned her head and looked at him. Something like a smile twitched at the corners of her lips.
-You can, - she answered. - But not today. Today you will live and suffer.
-And tomorrow?
-Tomorrow too. And the day after. And in a month. Until you learn.
Verd sighed. Deeply, noisily, with a wheeze.
'Someday I'll make you pay for this.'
He didn't think it with any anger. There was only a smile on his face and a desire to sink into a deep sleep.
Somewhere on the edge of consciousness, he felt that she was still sitting nearby. Not leaving. Not abandoning him. Just waiting. And that waiting was strange, unusual, but somehow comforting.
The heaviness in his body gradually receded, replaced by a pleasant, lingering fatigue. The pain in his muscles turned into a dull warmth. His hand, still gripping the sword, was still trembling, but not as much anymore.
'Five minutes...' - he thought. - 'It's so little. And so much.'