The Rise Of Wicked

Chapter 8: no pain = no gain

Sweat ran down my forehead. My arms burned from the constant blocking and punching. But I pushed through it and fought.

I lunged, crouched, rolled across the floor before jumping up to stand again. One of Jason's colleges charged at me, starting from across the room and then took off. Heading straight for me. I knew the impact was going to hurt, I knew without a doubt I'd end up with another unsightly bruise buried beneath my tanned skin.

And then the red headed man was before me seconds away from ploughing into my chest –

– and then he vanished.

Only he hadn't vanished, I had. I relocated to the opposite end of the room, my entire body materializing into a swish of vapour. My assailant looked around flustered before spinning on his heels to face me.

"What the hell was that?!" His face turned white and his eyes began to water a little from fright.

"I have no idea," I alleged. "I've never been able to do that before." My voice quaked with worry.

Maybe I'd grown stronger than anyone had ever anticipated, I wondered vaguely if Ignia or the other four were able to do what I just did.

But judging from this poor man's frightened veneer I figured it had been the first time he had ever witnessed such an atrocity.

My trainer said nothing more, he turned, he walked and he left before I could ask any further questions.