When I woke up the next day, my breathing was labored. I touched my nose. There was dried blood caked on it. I remembered the dragon girl’s anger exploded yesterday, and we fought. I also remembered coming out with some strange opinions indeed, courtesy of the other me.
I sighed. Having my surroundings controlled was bad enough, but now my own words and actions were being manipulated. I had naively thought that I could get away with honing my body and physical techniques, but maybe I needed to train my mind too. If the other me tried to interfere in the middle of a fight, I would die.
That said, I couldn’t think of any other way to train the mind than to go stand under a waterfall, and even then, I wasn’t sure how effective that was. Was the mind something that could be trained?
Reality was grim, so I decided to ignore it and practice releasing my essence like I had managed yesterday, working on getting a real feel for it. Releasing essence was something like riding a bicycle, and, once you learned, it was easy to intuit how to control the amount you let out. However, there did seem to be an upper limit to how much you could discharge. It was like a faucet—you could open it more to increase the amount in a controlled manner, but no more essence would come out once you were past a certain point. Like water, the more you let out, the higher the consumption.
It seemed that, when in a fight, it was necessary to conserve essence and increase the amount you released when the situation called for it. Watching the instructors fight, though, it looked like there was something more to it than that. It was like the essence visibly surrounding them didn’t account for the strength on display. I would have liked to be able to observe them properly, but I doubted they would willingly spar at a speed we could watch. Not to mention the question of who their opponent would be.
I returned my thoughts to the present and uncrossed my legs.
✦ ✦ ✦
When I arrived at the dining hall, the children’s eyes turned to us. Their gazes were filled with curiosity, doubt, loathing, and a slight anxiety. There was little I could be optimistic about right now. Even Sister, who was at the center of the hall, looked somewhat surprised. The eyes moved to the dragon girl behind me once and then again before turning away again. At last, they realized just who it was that they had been punishing.
A hellishly cold air filled the hall as we had our breakfast. I think I preferred it; it was quiet, and it gave me a chance to focus on eating. I saw Sister finish her last bite with a gulp, faster than the children, and leave the room. I followed her with my eyes as I bit off another hard piece of bread and swallowed. The only people saying anything were Tiger and his group.
✦ ✦ ✦
“We shall commence our combat training in just a moment.” The instructor glared at the dragon girl. “Is there anyone who suffered violence at the hands of the dragonborn yesterday?”
“Yes, sir. Me.” As usual, Tiger grinned and raised his hand.
Next came Pipsqueak. “Me too...”
“I did too!” one girl announced—a snakeborn like me.
Her confidence seemed to encourage some others.
“And me.”
“Same here.”
“Me too.”
“And me.”
I could guess why that first girl had stepped forward, but I wanted to confirm whether she was hoping to unite the other girls in using the dragonborn as a common enemy or whether she merely held a personal grudge. In other words, I wanted to know if the snakeborn girl was liable to become my enemy too.
Tiger stepped forward in high spirits. He waved his wooden sword around and surrounded his body with essence. The way he charged it up was really something; the previous bouts of punishment must have been good training for him. There was little technique required simply to release essence, but to charge it, you needed enough control to hold it on your body’s surface.
After learning to release my essence, I had practiced charging it. It seemed I was almost there, and I understood why it wasn’t that much of a step up from releasing. That said, I wasn’t confident that I would ever catch up to Tiger. While I continued to improve, so would the others.
“You may strike her ten times.”
Essence still primed, Tiger swung the sword down. “One!”
The dragon girl, pinned down, let it strike her head. She gave a quiet groan but made no other sound. Or so I thought...
“One...”
She was counting. It was like she was echoing Tiger’s voice. Her eyes were beyond enraged; they were frosty. It was like she didn’t consider the boy before her to be a fellow human.
“T-two!” Tiger continued.
“Two...” she repeated through gritted teeth.
“Three!”
“Th-three.”
“Four!”
A beat. “Four.”
Her gaze never wavered. Tiger looked like he was losing the mental battle, despite being the one with the sword. Eventually, he gave up on counting altogether.
“Tch! Dammit! Take that! And this! Scumbag!”
“Five...six...seven...eight...”
Tiger let out a roar.
“Ten...”
The dragon girl’s silver hair was stained red, yet she didn’t show the slightest sign of agitation. The aggressor was shaken. The victim was not. The boy within me was watching with a curious sense of elation. Tiger was gasping and cursing. He tried to swing the sword again, but the instructor took it from him.
“I believe I said ten strikes. Who’s next?”
“What? But... Fine.”
Pipsqueak had already raised his hand, ridding Tiger of his chance to protest. The gnome exhaled with exertion as he delivered each strike.
“One... Two... Three... Four...” the dragon girl chanted.
On noticing that oppressive golden glare staring up at him inches above the ground, Pipsqueak no longer felt safe. Tears sprang to his eyes.
“Ten.”
Pipsqueak let the sword clatter to the ground. The punishment continued as normal with one child beating the girl after another. Never once did she look away.
“Ten.”
“Ten.”
“Ten.”
“Ten...”
Once the children were finished, the instructor went to work using his fists to rid her of her consciousness. She used her tail to deflect them, and he grunted in surprise.
“You said...I had to...join training...” She stood up, holding her pounding head. Apparently, she had decided to participate despite the state she was in.
“Are you planning to retaliate against the children?”
“Only if you...want me to...” She must have been aware that the instructor was perfectly capable of stopping her if she tried.
Our teacher didn’t seem the least bit angry at the dragon girl’s display of resistance. He just looked at her steadily. “You may take part. However...”
He struck out with his fist. She blocked it. The next thing I knew, she was spinning sideways through the air. I had missed his follow-up attack. She immediately stood up, and I saw a fist-shaped imprint on her cheek.
“You will stop with the attitude.”
At first, I thought she was overcome with rage, but then I realized she was staring at the instructor as if committing his movements to memory.
I doubted that the instructor would pair her up with anyone who had taken part in her punishment. There were probably a fair number of children who now wished they had beaten her that day.