I was lying down on the couch, idly browsing the web, when a notification popped up.
[System Notification: Training session scheduled with Partner Llewellyn. Preparing environment. Relocation in 10 minutes.]
I bolted upright in alarm.
What?
I'd barely had my first coffee of the day!
"Nobody scheduled anything with me!"
[Clarification: Training session scheduled by Partner Llewellyn. Attendance mandatory.]
I checked my phone. No messages, no missed calls from Llewellyn—nothing.
I narrowed my eyes.
Honestly.
Well, all considered, he was doing me a favor.
I stumbled off to the bathroom.
Nine minutes later I stood in my living room wearing tracksuit bottoms and a thin hoodie.
Penguin ran up to me in his fire fox form, flames burning brightly along his tail.
"You're staying here," I told him.
Penguin's ears flattened. He looked at me with round eyes.
"I mean it. I don't know what this training involves, and I don't want you getting hurt. Besides, we haven't told Llewellyn about you yet."
I put him down gently on the table. "I'll definitely play with you once I'm back, okay?"
Penguin looked crestfallen but just nibbled my finger gently. I felt something in my chest go soft at the sight, but this was safer for him.
I still hadn't figured out if Elementals needed water or not, but he seemed to like it, so I left a small bowl for him, before the countdown started.
[System Notification: Relocation in 3... 2... 1...]
I patted Penguin gently one last time before the room around me vanished.
***
I materialized in what looked like an empty warehouse.
Llewellyn stood in the center, arms crossed, wearing a simple black t-shirt and training joggers.
"You're late," he said.
"I'm exactly on time," I shot back. "Even if I wanted to be late, I couldn't, since the System was just going to kidnap me." I looked around. "What is this place?"
"System-generated training environment," Llewellyn said. "You need to learn how to fight and defend yourself."
Right, but—
"Does it need to be a warehouse?"
This was just too depressing.
Llewellyn looked at me with an expression that said, Well, what are you going to do about it?
It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I could indeed do something about it.
I kept my eyes on him.
"Hello? System? Can we have a sleeker training environment or something?"
[System Notification: Environment modification request received. Generating alternative training space...]
A moment later, the warehouse was gone and we were suddenly standing in a wide-open training hall with polished wooden floors, tall windows, minimalist white walls, and a few elegant benches along the perimeter.
It reminded me of those fancy martial arts dojos from movies.
Good. Yes. Thank you.
Llewellyn seemed amused.
"Better?" he asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Much better," I said. "At least if I'm going to get my ass kicked, I can do it somewhere that doesn't look like a murder scene."
Llewellyn snorted. He looked deceptively soft in his training clothes and very at ease in this environment.
Which was more than could be said for me. I probably looked like someone about to get his ass kicked.
"I thought my role was to flag the Threads for you. How did we get to me having to learn actual combat? Isn't raising my stats enough?"
"It's not," Llewellyn said. "You've been lucky. And I've been there. What happens when I'm not?"
Well. I didn't have an answer to that.
"Besides, didn't you first introduce yourself as a sub-DPS?" Llewellyn asked, amused. "Or were you not planning to deliver on that?"
Damn it.
It's not that I didn't want to learn combat—I actually did.
It's just that… who the hell has their first training ever against Llewellyn?! That was just unhinged.
"Your first lesson is basic physical defense," Llewellyn said, clearly unaware of my inner spiraling. "You have no combat experience, and your physical attributes are..." he paused, looking me up and down, "...suboptimal."
"Wow. Thanks."
"It's not an insult—you're not trained. We're remedying that." He moved to the center of the room, closer to me. "The System paired us because your abilities complement mine. But that's useless if you get killed before you can use them."
I sighed. "Fair point."
"Stand here," he instructed, pointing to a spot in front of him. "I'm going to show you how to fall without injuring yourself."
"Wait, what—"
Before I could finish, Llewellyn had swept my legs out from under me.
…Fuck!
Just before I hit the ground, the floor turned soft as a cushion.
System, I love you. Honestly, that gave me a heart attack.
I hit the floor with a softened thud that still knocked the wind out of me.
"That," Llewellyn said, looking down at me, "is exactly what you shouldn't do."
I got back up, my pride more bruised than my body. "Maybe a little warning next time?"
"Enemies don't give warnings," Llewellyn said. "Now, when you fall, you need to distribute the impact. Roll with the momentum. Absorb, don't block. Let your arm follow the fall—don't try to catch yourself with it. You need to use your arm to guide the fall, not to stop it. Stopping gets you hurt."
He demonstrated the technique in slow motion, with perfect form.
Damn.
"Your turn."
I tried to mimic his movements, but as soon as he swept my legs again, I tensed up and landed in an awkward heap—though the softened surface saved me from the worst of it.
Llewellyn huffed.
"You're too rigid," he said. "Relax your body."
"Easy for you to say when you've mastered it to perfection."
I tried again, but the next attempt wasn't any better. I overthought every movement, and ended up looking like a malfunctioning robot. The floor softened to prevent injury but did nothing to spare my dignity.
"Your center of gravity is not an aspiration point," Llewellyn commented dryly as I sprawled on the floor for the fifth time.
"What does that even mean?" I asked, frustrated.
"It means stop thinking so much. Your body knows how to fall. You're getting in your own way."
It was like we were speaking two different languages.
"You're bracing like you're expecting a meteor strike," Llewellyn said after my tenth failed attempt. "Relax your shoulders."
"I am relaxed!" I snapped—which was obviously a lie.
"Your idea of relaxed would make a statue look flexible. As I said, your body knows how to fall. Let it. Stop trying to keep your center high. Let yourself go down."
"My body definitely does not know how to fall," I argued. "If it did, I wouldn't be here getting repeatedly knocked down by you."
Llewellyn's expression didn't change, but I swore his eyes looked amused.
"Again," he said.
I glared at him.
We went through the drill several more times.
Each attempt, I tried to follow his instructions, but my brain kept overanalyzing every movement. By the time I sorted through the steps mentally, I was already sprawled on the floor.
"This is hopeless," I said after what was probably my twentieth failed attempt.
"One more time," Llewellyn said.
On the next attempt, something unexpected happened.
Llewellyn feinted left before sweeping right, catching me completely off guard.
I didn't have time to think—my body just reacted. I tucked, rolled, and came up on one knee, blinking in surprise.
Llewellyn gave a subtle nod. "Better. You stopped thinking."
I stared at him, a bit shocked.
Okay, I'd done it, but… I didn't know what I did.
"Exactly," Llewellyn said, when I pointed that out. "You didn't try to do it right—you just did it." He extended a hand to help me up. "Your instincts are good when you get out of your own way."
I guess that was a compliment?
I took his hand and let him yank me up.
"Again," Llewellyn said.
We repeated the drill and, while I still got it wrong more often than not, I managed to roll correctly a few more times.
Llewellyn nodded, satisfied.
"Now," he said, stepping back as I caught my breath, "show me what you can do with Water."