Blood spurted out of Greta's broken nose and cascaded down Altair's forehead and face. He crinkled his brow at the sticky and unclean sensation, but his triumphant grin was clear for all to see. He had to close it only a few seconds after though, as blood almost fell inside. Spitting desperately to get rid of it, he missed the look of shock, pain and rage on Greta's face. He had only just gotten himself together, looking up, when he caught a right hook to the jaw. He felt the bone creak and his tongue was crushed against his molars, bursting out blood.
'She used...Mana!' his thoughts came slow and muddled, and the detached part of him reckoned he had a minor concussion. His body still moved on instinct however. Having knocked Greta off, she was no longer holding onto his arms, and he unleashed a number of Mana-infused blows at her stomach, chest and shoulders. Greta swayed as the blood kept flowing-he had bashed her lip as well as her nose-but she still utilised her superior physique to defend from him.
His attack doing little, Altair switched to a sweeping kick, catching the inside of her leg and bringing her down to the ground. Raising a fist high and crashing it onto the crown of his head, Greta collapsed onto the ground face-first, another spurt of blood splattering. Panting and barely staying on his own feet, Altair looked at Roland through blurring eyes. He was in more pain than he had every physically experienced in his life so far. His brush with Infinity had still been far worse, but that was purely in his mind and soul. Now, his every muscle and patch of skin ached.
Despite his condition and the fact Greta was out however, she didn't call the match. Just as Altair was about to raise an objection, he felt something grabbing onto his pants leg. Looking down his confusion, his expression turned to shock upon meeting the rage-filled gaze of his opponent. Too fatigued to react, Altair could only watch in what seemed like slow-motion as she channelled a spine-chilling amount of Earth Mana into her fist, the whole limb being covered in an ochre-gold hue. Her fist shot up in an arc, heading straight for one spot. Altair almost screamed as the weapon of destruction went right up at struck his-
.....
.....
.....
Altair opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. His whole body was wracked by pain, though it was distant and dull. Bandages were wrapped around his chest and forehead, and the smell of antiseptic invaded his nose. Looking around, he realised he was in the Academy's infirmary. A couple other students were also present, either groaning in pain or slumbering quietly. He lifted his arm, wincing from the strain, and held his head against his hand: "What the hell happened?"
"I can answer that."
A middle-aged woman with black hair turning grey at the roots had appeared, wearing the uniform of a Sky Cross nurse. She had a hard face and a square build, but her eyes held a kind and motherly hue. She helped Altair sit up and get comfortable, then she began her explanation. "You are that girl were both brought in here, battered and bleeding, by Instructor Roland. Sigh, just what did you two get up to? I've only seen such intense injuries from the Senior students! A broken nose, cracked ribs, a fractured wrist and both sporting a concussion...were you trying to kill each other?"
'That bad? Wow, we really did go at it didn't we? I guess I got more carried away than I meant too...'
Seeing Altair stay silent, the nurse just sighed and produced a pill from her pocket, then gave him a glass of water that was sitting on the table beside him. "Here, take this for the pain. I've healed your wounds but the soreness will remain for a few days: you shoulder consider yourself having got off easy. Don't go picking such severe fight, do you understand me young man?" she scolded harshly, even wagging her finger at him.
Altair nodded meekly and obediently swallowed his pill with a swig of water, feeling the relief in just seconds. Clearly, this wasn't some normal pharmaceutical drug, but something made from special herbs. 'Speaking of which, how far advanced is this world's medical sector? Have they discovered antibodies and vaccines yet?'
Altair tried to remember how pre-galactic and Mana-less civilizations had progressed on bio-engineering and chem-medicine to compare Orvonia with, but failed to draw on good parallels. As a Denizen, he had found such worlds far too boring and dull for his liking, though he occasionally partook in the odd mundane lifestyle. 'From what I've seen though, this world is just as skewed in the healthcare department as everywhere else. Society depends on Life, Water, Nature and Wood Ascenders for healing, and magical herbs for refinement. Consus and Ingrid have probably figured out a few formulae, but Gaia and Dendron would stunt their production to maintain "Their" monopoly over the market. After all, Gods have no need for money, but "Their" believers certainly do.'
Altair dozed off under the effects of the painkiller, and woke up to find half an hour had passed. Some of his bandages had been removed and he felt significantly better, but swift movement still made him dizzy and winded. Lifting himself out of bed, no one stopped him from leaving the ward: clearly, he had been cleared for leave. Stepping outside the sterile room, he stretched and yawned like a cat, enjoying the popping of his shoulders. He didn't have the chance to go anywhere though, before he noticed someone else leaning against the wall to his right.
Greta looked similar to him, but with a nasal strip rather than a bandage around the head. She was tapping her hand against the wall rhythmically and only stepped when Altair looked over. She straightened her back and walked over to him, her face set but eyes calm. She looked down at him (Oh, how Altair resented this body) and stared directly into his pupils. Altair tensed up, worried that Greta intended to continue their fight here, but she surprised him by instead sticking out her hand.
"That was a good match."
Her voice was soft and melodious, much different from what he had been expecting. Her tone had been pretty flat when she had introduced herself back in the training hall, but now she sounded gorgeously effeminate. Altair hesitated for a second before clasping her hand and shaking it, flashing her a polite smile. "Thank you, I also enjoyed it."
He regretted his words in the next instant however, because the girl suddenly pulled him closer to her chest, dropping her head to just above his shoulder, her soft hair tickling his nape. Before he could react, he felt her warm breath hitting her ear as she whispered: "I am a vassal of Lady Rapahanial, my Lord. I enrolled here to help protect you and Lady Sia. Her Ladyship will be pleased to hear of your combat progress, my Lord."
Altair's eyes widened at the sudden information before narrowing again, his brain spinning at supersonic speeds. "How can I know you're telling the truth?" he whispered back gruffly. "You could just as easily be a spy from the other Great Houses."
Though Altair couldn't see it, a small smile appeared on Greta's face. Altair tersely awaited her reply, his clenched fist already vibrating with Mana by his side. Starting a fight out here in the corridors would inevitably bring down the wrath of Sky Cross, but he was prepared for that if Greta tried to harm him. He was unable to keep his composure following the young girl's next words though.
"Rȳ perzys se ānogar, īlon umbagon."
Altair went still for ten seconds before letting out a deep breath and releasing the Mana in his fist. Sensing his relaxation, Greta released him and gave a warm smile. "I really enjoyed this session, do you mind if we partner up again next time? I think we can learn a lot from each other!"
Altair gave a friendly smile back, his face radiating the pure joy accessibly only to young children. "Sure! Actually, I think you're pretty cool, your sword looked so cool back there! How did you do it?"
"Hehe, that's a secret. But I'll tell you if you agree to be my friend. I mean..."
"I really like you."