Sean raced towards Richelle, his eyes following her every movement, he pushed his senses to their limits, focused entirely on the slightest movement she made.
However, if only it was that easy, he wouldn't have been the one on the losing side in every of their sparring session.
Richelle threw a simple jab towards his direction... No technique, no skill, no fluff... Just a simple, textbook punch, yet Sean felt like if he didn't evade, it would smash his face in.
He quickly moved to the side, escaping the trajectory of her fist. But as though she was already expecting him to do that, she already used her momentum to turn, her elbow heading towards his face.
Her movements were slow, easily enough for him to read and react to them, but he still found himself being continuously overwhelmed by them.
It was like she could read the future, knowing where he would be, and when, already preparing an attack there, before he could even react.
He crossed his arm in defense, as her elbow smashed against it, pushing him backwards with a great amount of force.
He staggered backwards, trying to regain his footing, when he felt something hook against his foot, and the world tilted upwards in his vision.
The ground greeted his back with force, as he stared upwards in a daze. How long was that? A second? Two perhaps?
"You're still fighting like a book. You react instead of predict. In battle, the one with the most foresight, often wins not because they can react to every attack, but because they predict every movement." Richelle said as she walked up to him, her lips still curled into a smile.
"Again," she commanded, distancing herself from him.
Sean took a deep breath, pushing himself back to his feet. He understood what she said, but being able to predict attacks required a good amount of experience... Experience he did not have.
Perhaps the original Sean did, but he didn't. Before now, he was just a twelve year old, academic child.
Nothing about fighting would have been in his book, till maybe he decided to dabble into martial arts, if he had continued life on Earth.
Predicting attacks... that was easier said than done.
He moved again, blasting towards her with an explosive speed, but not as much as the first time, deciding to take a more cautious approach. A good reason why he had lost earlier, was because she had been using his momentum against him.
Richelle threw a jab again, an exact replica of the first one, rather than with another attack. As though taunting him to predict what she would do next with any movement she made.
Perhaps, Sean could do that, but that would be when he was watching rather than fighting. It was an entirely different experience, when you were the one forced to make such decisions in the heat of combat.
Sean was not fazed. Rather than dodge like he did before, he raised an arm, deflecting the punch, while throwing another of his own.
A light of amusement passed by in Richelle's eyes, as she tilted her head a little, and lifted her knee, impacting it against Sean's stomach.
Sean stumbled backwards again, this time, careful of her movements lest he fell again.
She didn't bother this time, instead pressing in on the attack.
Punch, kick, elbow, knee, hip.
One attack after another rained down like a maelstrom, and Sean was forced to continuously block and parry, careful not to overextend, lest she find an opening.
But it was impossible to block against all her attacks, or she wouldn't be the monster she was. Infact, she was limiting herself greatly in what she could do. Not talking about limiting her strength to even weaker than he was, but also the kind of attacks she could use.
Bang!
The both of them retreated, Sean breathing heavily, as his chest throbbed where her delicate fist had just bashed, making even breathing a little difficult.
"Why are you not using your elements?" Richelle asked. She had been expecting him to do so for a while now.
If he charged himself with lightning, although it would be painful, his reaction speed would increase, and even without much experience, predicting what she would do, would become easier.
Infact, that was what she had in mind when she told him to predict rather than react. As for water, although his control was not good enough, he could still make use of the water in the surrounding.
Of course, Sean couldn't create water, and there was no obvious source of water around, except maybe moisture in the air, which he was not close to being strong enough to draw from and use, his sweat was still water.
Though she would prefer if he didn't use his sweat to fight her, they were training, so she wouldn't mind. What she was after, and more interested in, was his lightning. As for his third affinity, they still didn't know what it was, nor how it worked.
Sean shook his head at her question. "I don't want to rely too much on my elements. Even if it'll give me an edge and enhance my combat ability, the difference in how much I learn while using it and not, is not much."
"On the other hand, if I rely too much on it, then I would be sitting duck when I run out of mana," he concluded.
Richelle smiled, pleased with what he said. While she still wanted him to use his lightning, she also understood his point, and it was true.
"Alright. Let's continue then," she said.
He nodded, adjusting his stance for an attack again.
Predicting his opponents, might be something that was still too far away from him. Infact, he was yet to master basic combat maneuvers. He knew what he was supposed to do in different situations, however, knowing them and being able to do them, were two different things.
Predicting was still out of his league, but Sean was still Sean... Or rather, he was still Ellis Jonathan. He wasn't a genius only because he was academically smart. If that was what made one a genius, then geniuses would be everywhere.
What he could do with his brain, was document every single action his opponents made, and compartmentalize it in his mind, using it for reference to react faster than his senses could to their attacks, since he already knew their mannerisms.
All that was left, was for his muscle memory to catch up.
One week... He had just one week, before he would finally enter that place. One week till he met the main cast of this story... One week till he was in Elysium. A week till he entered the academy.
He had to make it count, as frankly... he did not plan on being on being mediocre. No, he was going to give it his all.
He was going there to be at the top, regardless of how it affected the plot... He had goals too big, to care about any of that.