Neither of them made it to five hundred.
Grub's arms gave out at one hundred and twenty. The boulder on his back rolled off and thudded into the grass as he collapsed face-first into the dirt. His muscles had gone from burning to numb to having a hollow, trembling emptiness that made lifting his own head feel like dragging an anchor.
Luthiel lasted longer. Thi's enhanced physicality carried her to two hundred before her arms buckled and she crumpled sideways, the stone tumbling off her back and nearly crushing her foot.
Both of them lay on the ground, heaving, fighting the urge to vomit.
Morrigan sat on her fallen tree trunk, one leg crossed over the other, a fresh jug in her hand. She took a long sip and sighed.
"Wow. Neither of you could do a measly five hundred?" She shook her head. "Fucking pathetic."
Grub's chest heaved against the grass. His mind felt sick and his body felt like wet noodles left out in the rain. Taking a heavy breathe, he tried to be disappointed in himself. After ll, he had done a hundred push-ups before, back in the wilderness when he was training alone. But the weight of that boulder was something else entirely. It added such a large barrier of difficulty that Grub was surprised he hit one hundred at all
To put it simply, he was exhausted. If he did another push-up, he was fairly certain his arms would detach from his body and file for independence.
Luthiel was in similar condition. Thi's messy red-streaked hair had gone from messy to catastrophic, plastered across her face with sweat. Her crimson eyes were glazed and her breathing came in ragged, wet gasps.
Morrigan hopped off the trunk and cracked her knuckles.
"Well that was a fun start, but its time to make fighters out of you."
The next few hours were a brand new hell Grub didn't know existed. The kind of hell that made Grub question every decision that had led him to this exact point in his life.
Morrigan ran them through exercise after exercise, each one more grueling than the last. After the push-ups came the boulder drags. They had to haul their respective boulders from a marked tree at one end of the clearing to another tree at the far side and back. It was just one lap, right? It would be simple, right? That's what Grub had thought but he soon realized he should've known better.
Morrigan made them do it five times.
If their form slipped, if they dropped the boulder before the finish, if they cut a corner, she made them start over. Grub restarted three times before finally completing all five. Luthiel restarted twice.
At one point Grub was convinced she had made them restart solely because she thought it was funny.
Then came the sprints, and then the carries. Then something Morrigan called "tree holds" that involved gripping a branch and hanging with a rock tied to your waist until your fingers went white and your shoulders felt like they were being pulled from their sockets.
Physical labor. That was the bulk of the day. No techniques. No Anima theory. Just suffering. They hadn't learned any techniques yet or even mentioned Anima for hours. Morrigan was focused on one thing right now, their suffering. That's what Grub thought. However, if you asked Morrigan she would answer with, 'their development.'
By the time Morrigan finally told them they were getting a break before the next session, Grub and Luthiel were functionally deceased.
Grub lay with his head against a rock, his shirt and coat discarded on the ground beside him. His bare chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. Sweat coated every inch of his now shiny body. His dark pants were caked with dirt and grass stains.
Luthiel had also shed her extra layers. Her dainty dress was folded neatly beneath a tree, and she now wore only a pair of shorts and a fitted wrap across her chest, a simple covering built for movement rather than appearance. Even her plush-like skin was glistening with sweat, which Grub found mildly fascinating. He hadn't known she could sweat.
Thi, despite being the aspect that supposedly loved training, looked ready to collapse into the earth and never return. She was on all fours, gasping for air, her red-streaked hair hanging in damp curtains around her face.
Morrigan returned carrying two flasks of water and tossed one to each of them.
"Despite your overall disappointing physical ability," she said casually, "I'm happy to see you haven't chickened out on me." She crossed her arms. "I can sense your strength growing from just today alone."
Grub caught the flask and drained it in a single desperate gulp. The water was gone before he could appreciate it. Far from enough to fill the void of energy the training had carved out of him.
Luthiel drank hers in small, deliberate sips, savoring every drop as if the break might end at any second. Which, knowing Morrigan, it might.
"Should've done that."
"You think?" Thi muttered.
Grub wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at Luthiel.
"How are you holding up?"
Thi took a deep, shuddering breath before answering.
"I'm like totally beat, Bug." She took another sip. "When we aren't in control, we don't get the full feeling of touch. Just like a brush of it." She exhaled. "But this has been so grueling that Lu is complaining in my head right now, nonstop."
Grub sighed. He didn't blame her. He had heard plenty about how harsh Morrigan's training was, but experiencing it firsthand was a different category of suffering entirely.
Morrigan's voice cut through the brief peace like a knife.
"Alright. Break's over."
Both of them looked up in horror.
"It's time to move from enhancing your bodies to practicing your Anima."
In an instant, Morrigan appeared beside them. One moment she was across the clearing, the next she was standing over them, snatching both flasks out of their hands. Grub barely realized until his water was taken from him, her speed was truly astounding.
Luthiel reached out desperately, her mitten-like hand grasping at the air where her last few sips had been.
"No! I wasn't done—"
Morrigan tossed both flasks to the ground without a glance.
"Now." She planted her staff and looked between them. "I need you to practice anima reinforcement. It's the most basic skill there is, and you will need it if you want to survive."
She turned to Thi. "This version of you is already familiar with Reinforcement, yes?"
Thi nodded, still catching her breath.
"Good. Then I'll need you to practice your combat skill while I teach him how to draw out his Anima." Morrigan cracked her neck. "Spar with me as I coach him. Try to land a solid hit."
Seeing Thi's doubt ridden face, Morrigan sighed.
"Don't worry, I won't use my Forte."
Luthiel still looked unsure. But then a smirk crept across Thi's face — the rowdy doll seemed suddenly excited to test her mettle. She dropped into a fighting stance, her crimson eyes sharpening.
Morrigan turned to Grub.
"And you. I need you to draw out the Anima reserves I know you have sitting in there."
Grub looked at his hands. He knew the tank was full. Maggot had shown him that much. He just had no idea how to open it.
He clenched his fists and strained, trying to force the Anima out the same way he had always forced Death — Nihil — through his body. He focused hard as his muscles tightened. Veins pressed against his pale skin. His face was twisted with effort.
Yet, nothing happened.
Morrigan glanced at him while casually sidestepping a punch Luthiel had launched at her jaw.
"What's with all the grunting and straining?"
Luthiel threw a jump kick that Morrigan ducked under. Without missing a beat, Thi switched it up with a low sweep aimed at the kappa's ankles. Morrigan hopped over it and kicked Luthiel in the side of the head. The strike was calculated, not hard enough to seriously injure, but enough to send the doll girl staggering sideways with a yelp.
Morrigan tutted. "Predictable."
Grub answered through gritted teeth. "This is how I always brought out my Forte. I always do this to coat my arms in Nihil. Forcing it is the only way I can bring it out. I thought Anima would be similar."
Luthiel charged back in. This time she threw a rapid combination, three punches in quick succession followed by an elbow aimed at Morrigan's ribs. The flurry was fast, fast enough that Morrigan actually had to put effort into blocking. Her hands moving with practiced precision to deflect each strike. Then she wrapped her arm around Luthiel's extended elbow, locked the joint, and threw the doll girl face-first into a mud patch at the edge of the clearing.
Thi's crimson eyes went wide as the mud splattered across her face and chest. Grub briefly thought that if she had been wearing her full puffy dress, there would be a lot of washing to do tomorrow.
Morrigan focused her attention back on Grub.
"No, boy. You must feel it naturally." She held up one hand, and for a moment, a faint luminescence shimmered across her palm before fading. "It shouldn't be strain. It should feel like a warmth washing through you."
She gestured toward Luthiel, who was pulling herself out of the mud.
"Did you see how effortlessly I blocked her attacks?"
Thi launched another punch, which was caught it in the palm of Morrigan's hand.
"As she reinforced her strikes..."
She redirected the punch.
"...I reinforced my hands."
"But neither of us seemed strained doing so."
She pointed at him.
"It shouldn't be an act of such effort. Perhaps I'm pushing reinforcement too fast. It's not a hard skill, but you only learned what Anima was today." She sighed. "Perhaps I overestimated your potential. Just try your best."
Grub scowled. Something hot flickered in his chest that had nothing to do with Anima.
Hell no. I will not be looked down on.
He closed his eyes and focused on ceasing his straining.
Instead he thought about his Ego. About Maggot standing beside that green, glowing tank. About the warm light pulsing inside it. He didn't try to grab the Anima or shove it through his body. He just thought about it being there. About what it felt like when Maggot had placed a hand on the Pneuma and it had pulsed warmly in response.
A faint, pleasant sensation washed through his chest. Not a cold emptiness like using Nihil. Rather, it was like a second heartbeat starting up beside the first.
He opened his eyes with newfound understanding.
Across the clearing, Luthiel and Morrigan were going at it again. Thi had increased the pressure, throwing combinations with a ferocity that bordered on reckless. Morrigan blocked each strike and coached her between impacts.
"Good angle, but drop your shoulder — you're telegraphing."
A punch met Morrigan's open palm. A small breeze rippled outward from the impact.
"Better. Now follow with your hip, not your arm."
Morrigan smiled as she deflected and redirected, her movements so efficient they barely looked like effort.
"Too slow."
"Lead with the shoulder."
"Good."
"Again."
Morrigan continued coaching as Thi was sweating heavily. But she was improving. Rapidly.
Her crimson eyes burned with focus. She was giving everything she had, and Morrigan was absorbing it all like water hitting stone.
Then Morrigan ducked a wide hook and Thi's fist sailed past her head and connected with a tree trunk behind them. The trunk cracked with a sickening crunch. The tree groaned and leaned awkwardly to one side, its base splintered from the impact.
Luthiel took a few heaving breaths. Morrigan clapped.
"Not bad, Thi. Not bad at all."
Then she turned to Grub. Her eyes dropped to his hands and her expression shifted.
"Ah. I see you've learned how to draw out your Anima."
Grub looked down. The faintest green shimmer danced across his knuckles, barely visible, like light caught in mist. It was nothing compared to what Morrigan or Luthiel could produce. But it was there.
Morrigan smiled. "Now let me show you how to use it."
The next several hours proceeded without mercy.
Morrigan told Grub to spar with her the way Thi had been. She had forced him to keep his Anima drawn forward and imagine it in his fists when he swung. He had to imagine his skin becoming tougher when she struck back. Feel it, don't force it, and above all, don't stop.
The first time Morrigan slapped him, the impact sent him flying sideways into a tree. His back hit the bark so hard splinters embedded in his skin.
"Get up."
He got up. She hit him again.
"Reinforce your torso before I swing, not after."
He tried. She hit him again. Softer this time. Or maybe he was just getting harder.
Thi trained alongside him, but her lessons were different. Morrigan coached her on technique — how to read an opponent's weight distribution, how to disguise the angle of a punch, how to chain strikes into combinations that flowed calmly into each other. Thi absorbed it like a sponge. She was angry, violent and foul-mouthed, but utterly focused.
The old kappa somehow fought both of them simultaneously while teaching them. Every so often one of them would collapse. When they did, Morrigan did not offer sympathy. She hit them until they stood back up and went again.
Morrigan gave them no breaks nor kindness.
Hours passed. The sun moved across the sky and the shadows in the clearing stretched and shifted. Grub lost track of how many times he was knocked down and of how many punches he threw that Morrigan deflected without looking. He lost track of everything except the faint green glow on his fists that grew slightly brighter with each passing hour.
By the time Morrigan finally called a stop, the sky was turning dark.
Grub lay on his back in the grass, every muscle in his body screaming. Luthiel lay a few feet away in a similar state, Thi's crimson eyes staring blankly at the canopy above.
Neither of them spoke. Their muscles had been used to the very max.
But somewhere beneath the exhaustion, bruises, aching and the taste of dirt still lingering in his mouth, Grub felt an undeniable truth, he was stronger.
Not by much. But the green shimmer on his fists had been brighter at the end than at the beginning. His reinforcement had gone from nonexistent to barely functional. His body had been pushed past limits he didn't know he had and hadn't broken. And Morrigan, despite every insult and every slap and every demand she had thrown at them, had been right.
They had grown. Both of them. In the span of a single, brutal, impossible day. Grub stared at the darkening sky and thought about tomorrow.
Soon he had match against the old turtle who was equal to heaven. All he had to do was push her out a circle.
He closed his eyes. There was still no plan. But he had something he didn't have this morning.
A foundation.