Ian was badly beaten during their duel. Hunter showed mercy and didn't strike the face, but the rest of his body wasn't spared.
He lay on the ground, staring dazedly at the high ceiling, questioning his life and wondering if Hunter stole half his strength at birth.
Because who can explain to him how someone who fought for an hour still looked unsatisfied?
He felt as if his limbs were detached from his body, battered with broken bones and bruises, while Hunter remained unharmed, not a scratch on him, and not even breaking a sweat.
"That's it for today. We'll pick this up again tomorrow. I need to find a spar partner; fighting with you is so boring," Hunter complained, his face twisted with disgust at Ian's weakness.
Ian couldn't speak or even have the energy to respond to Hunter's insult.
He listened as Hunter's footsteps faded away. The door was pushed open and then closed with a click, leaving Ian completely alone in the spacious training room.
