Tired—that's the first word that came to Eve's mind. Nightfalls clashed in Elyon's backyard, but they barely caused any commotion since the Eves were so "tired".
Agh, I hate it. I can barely keep my breath, and I feel like throwing up. My head spins, and I can't grip my sword properly. Why did that idiot think this was a good idea? Can't he see that I can barely fight myself? Damn, to hell with this.
Both Eve and her clone panted and gasped for air. They turned their heads to look for Elyon, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Good, he left. I can finally relax." Eve and her clone sat on the ground, leaning on their swords. The clone's Nightfall was just a copy without any powers of its own—nothing more, nothing less.
"I think I will close my eyes for a bit." Her eyelids grew heavy while Eve and her clone lay on their backs on the soft grass.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. You are not done training." Elyon's voice rang from inside the house.
She jolted awake and stared at the window, her clone doing the same, and Elyon waved and smiled.
"Tch, slick bastard," she said under her breath.
"Hey, that's mean. I heard that."
She got up from the ground, leaning heavily on her sword and wincing.
"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you, oh great master," she said while rolling her eyes.
Elyon left the house and came to check on Eve.
"Apology accepted."
Eve didn't say anything in return, which also made Elyon cough.
"Now, start fighting yourself again."
"No, I won't do it."
Elyon looked genuinely shocked. "Wait, what? Why?"
"Because I don't want to. Yes, fighting myself is surprisingly a good idea. But adding more fatigue to it is awful. It's like you took a good piece of cake and threw it in shit."
Now it was Elyon's turn to stare.
"What?" asked Eve, confused.
"No, nothing. Fine, I will remove your fatigue. But you have to do two more rounds of sparring. This time, try to actually kill yourself."
"Thanks for telling me to kill myself. Real nice of you."
"You know what I mean."
Eve picked up her sword; the clone did the same. They both looked at each other and then started stretching their shoulders.
"Mhm, this is going to be nice." Anticipation and a fire for battle ignited in her soul.
Elyon took a seat on the ground and observed the two getting ready.
Eve and her clone got into their battle stances, then dashed at each other.
Sparks flew between each collision. Eve readied her sword for a side slash, her clone doing the same. They met in the middle and parried each other. Then came a side kick; their shins met in the middle. Eve switched the hand holding Nightfall. She prepared a punch with her left hand, but instead of punching the other one, their knuckles ground against each other. They pulled back their fists. Both of them leaned back and collided foreheads. Neither of them was backing down.
"Tough bitch!" both of them screamed while gritting their teeth.
They both jumped back, ready for another duel.
They dashed back in, this time gripping the sword with both hands. Thrusts, parried. Slashes, parried. Strikes, parried. Elbows, kicks, punches—all of them failed to hit their mark. They were, unsurprisingly, evenly matched.
Elyon observed the two of them for a while, just until they both threw their swords on the ground and started having a fist fight. There was no control—just pure punches and kicks, and elbows from time to time. Oh yes, how could we forget the head, shoulders, knees, and possibly the toes.
Elyon got up and went back inside to take care of some stuff. He entered his room and looked in the corner, then under the bed. His robe was still crumpled and unmoving. He picked it up, uncrumpled it, and put it on.
He looked back at one of the corners and saw his golden spear, Svarnam. He walked over to it and grabbed it.
I keep forgetting to use it. I mean, yeah, I don't really have any use for it since I only use my powers, but still.
He slid his finger along the handle, and flakes of fake gold fell onto the floor. They revealed iron underneath.
And worst still, I got ripped off. This was supposed to be a full twenty-four-karat gold spear, but it's just painted in gold. Damn greedy merchant.
He set the spear back in its place and busied himself with housework. After an hour or so, he went back outside. He had tried to do some chores, but he had no luck; Eve's endless barrage of curses had distracted him the whole time.
"How is it going? Have you managed to kill yourself yet?"
Both Eves turned their heads to him. Blood was running down their foreheads; their knuckles were busted and bruised. The same went for their elbows and knees. Some other bruises were not so visible, like the ones on her abdomen and ribs.
"What does it look like? Was I successful enough?" the Eves gritted through their bloody teeth.
"It seems like you were. Good job. Well, here, take this healing potion. I'm too lazy to heal you up normally."
Elyon handed the healing potion to one of the Eves, but only after checking her wrist for the X symbol.
Eve took the potion and started greedily gulping it. She finished it and threw the empty bottle on the ground. Her bruises started healing slowly.
"Thanks, really needed that. So what do you think? You watched me fight for a while. How am I progressing? Am I getting any better?"
"Hmm, if I were to say, yes, you are getting better at fighting, even though you fight like an animal. But the only thing that is missing is your speed."
"Speed? Why do you think that? Wasn't it my endurance?"
"At first, yes, it was your endurance. But I have no idea how you managed to overcome it in so little time. Who knows, maybe my fatigue idea was quite successful."
Elyon looked very pleased with himself.
"Yeah, no. It was probably with the help of the sword, somehow," Eve responded, looking annoyed. Her bruises were finally healing completely.
"Well, anyway, whatever it was, we will discuss it while we walk back to Scholar's Rest. I want to eat something, and I'm sure you also want the same thing."
Elyon undid his magic, and Eve's clone disappeared while Eve wiped the X symbol from her wrist.
"Sounds good, let's go. I'm starving."