Ascension Of The Ashen Fiend: Chapter 15 Fight Scene (Patreon)

Thane grunted as he pushed through the burning sensation in his arms and racked the barbell laden with weights above his head. The sudden lack of pressure caused Thane's arms to flop to his sides like spaghetti, "I should have pushed the bar down on your throat." Naomie hissed as she stared down at Thane from her position behind the bench, ready to interfere if anything went wrong, "I almost wished you did. Maybe then I wouldn't have to hear you complain." The sarcasm was thick in Thane's voice, and Naomie glared back at him.

"Just wait until sparring. You better hope Charles doesn't pair us together." Naomie threatened before walking away, leaving Thane on the bench.

Soon enough, Charles called an end to the break and told them to pair up on the mat. The smile plastered on Naomie's face didn't help Thane's nerves as they faced each other.

Charles quickly recited the rules of the match as he did every time and confirmed both of them understood before signaling the start of the bout. Surprisingly, Naomie didn't charge right off the start, instead running to the edge of the mat and squaring her stance in a defensive posture.

Frowning, Thane began slowly approaching Naomie, his knees bent, lowering his center of gravity in preparation for any tricks she might pull. When he was in range, Thane sent out a testing jab that Naomie deflected without difficulty.

Expecting the response, Thane began to probe Naomie's defenses. He would feint with a right hook only to lash out with a straight jab only to dash one way before cutting back suddenly trying to create an opening.

Each attempt ended the same in failure, but to Thane's credit, he saw Naomie bite down on her lip as sweat beaded on her brow. Grinning at making her struggle, Thane increased the pace of his power behind each strike.

Soon Naomie went from parrying his attack to deflect some of the force to taking full hits on her shins and forearms, blocking the slew of kicks and punches Thane was unleashing.

Then suddenly, Naomie ducked under a front kick that would have sent her flying outside the boundaries. Thane suddenly found himself on one foot and an unstoppable force that was Naomie inside his guard.

Cursing in his mind, Thane's body was moving before he realized it. His entire body seemed to flex as he jumped off his rooted leg bringing his knee up in a devastating upwards arc.

Naomie's eyes widened seeing the attack. In response, she dropped into a sweeping kick only to realize that there wasn't anything to sweep.

In one smooth movement, Thane tucked in his two legs speeding up his rotation so as he flipped, he landed in a crouch, his hand shooting out instinctually for balance. But the moment he had stopped moving, Thane was forced to lunge to the side as Naomie's leg passed through the space he had just occupied.

Planting the foot she had just kicked with, Naomie launched herself at Thane just as he started to come out of his roll. Jumping to his feet, Thane could barely get his hands up to deflect Naomie's first few attacks.

Using the back of his hand, Thane guided Naomie's punch up and past his shoulder in one smooth circular motion before twisting his shoulder and waist to turn the block into a vicious strike aimed at Naomie's neck.

Seeing the counter for what it was, Naomie brought her right hand up, shooting Thane's attack far out to the side while bringing her right leg up, her foot flexed, turning the appendage into a solid surface capable of breaking a bone.

Snapping down with his right hand, Thane's arm was fully extended with his elbow facing his groin, using his fist to block Naomie's kick. Feeling the impact of the blow jar, his hyperextended limb Thane cursed but kept moving nonetheless.

With both hands disposed of, Thane tensed his supporting leg before bringing his right leg up sharply. Naomie bent over in a backhand spring, dodging the savage kick. When she righted herself, Naomie reached up and wiped at the blood welling from her busted lip.

"You son of a bitch, you could have broken my nose!" Naomie glared at Thane. His leg was raised in the air, almost parallel to his body, Naomie's blood staining the hell of his shoes.

Slowly lowering his leg, Thane smiled, "It's a shame I missed then! Now stop stalling and come fight me!"

Naomie snarled as she licked her wounded lip, "Fine, I was giving you a moment to catch your breath. But if you want to have your ass beat so badly, who am I to stop you!"

Instead of answering, Thane bent his knees and pushed off the ground sprinting across the mat with a series of light footsteps that sprung him forward. Already expecting the sudden charge, Naomie was ready as Thane unleashed his opening attack.

Again Naomie fended off a slew of punches without trouble, but Thane's regular attack rhythm began to shift slowly. There was more space between each attack, the regular heartbeat of rest Naomie had been accustomed to stretched and lengthened.

At first, she wondered if Thane was beginning to tire as she deflected a punch, turning Thane's body to the side and opening him up for an easy counterstrike. Before Naomie could capitalize on the opening she made, Thane spun, dragging behind his leg out and up in a kick aimed at Naomie's head.

Almost falling over as she avoided the surprise, Naomie had to jump back again as a second kick was right behind the first. Faster than she could comprehend, Naomie was losing ground as Thane moved like a wraith.

The momentum behind the blow would carry him forward each time Thane would strike, whether it was a punch or kick. Like a well-practiced dance, each step would seamlessly flow into the next. Each attack seemed slow initially but accelerated exponentially as Thane's momentum transferred to the offending limb.

Naomie tried to follow his movements, but focusing on a wild spinning backfist aimed for her temple would leave Naomie open as Thane slid forward on one foot while trying to sweep her leg with the other.

Before long, Thane was able to chase her down, and Naomie ended up on the floor after a curving right hook found its way past her guard and rang her bell.

Groaning, Naomie forced herself to roll over even while her head swam. Looking up, Naomie saw Thane holding his hand and cursing, "Fuck, why is your head so hard? I think I split my knuckle!"

"Oh, shut up! You just punched me in the temple, and don't hear me whining about it!" Naomie growled at Thane, her head still swimming from the pain.

All Thane did was grunt before he slowly unbent his legs. They felt numb and loose like overstretched elastic. During the fight, Thane had never once fully extended his legs, keeping them bent, lowering his center of gravity, and providing him the explosive movement he needed, replacing the momentum he would derive from turning his shoulders and waist.

Usually after punching, Thane would have to rest by pulling back his attacking limb and squaring his shoulders and hips. But his new method allowed Thane to skip the second step, shaving off milliseconds between strikes.

But Thane had learned early on in his training that those few moments were the ones that mattered the most. The only other time Thane had come out the victor in their matches was when Naomie was having an off day, and he was having a good one.

"That was a good fight, both of you" As he approached the pair, Charles' face was grim, "But what did I say about the trash-talking! I don't know what's going on, but it ends now. You two will need each other. The Academy is a ruthless place that brings out the worst in people. I should have intervened earlier, but I am telling you now! At the very least, you need to trust each other! Am I clear!"

"Yes, Charles," Naomie and Thane said, echoing each other.

Turning to Naomie, Thane offered a hand to help  up, "Are you alright?"

Taking the offered limb wordlessly, Naomie sighed as she prodded the sore spot on the side of her head, "I'm fine, though it's going to bruise, and my next refinement isn't until Thursday."

Staring, Thane didn't feel too bad about what he had done. Naomie had done much worse. She tended to get rather handsy during their fights if he let her get close enough. More times than he could count, Thane had ended face down on the floor with Naomie twisting one of his limbs in a very wrong direction.

But when he thought back to this morning, Thane felt a pang of regret. What he had said was somewhat uncalled for, but the stress of the last year was starting to wear him down.

'If Charles says I need to trust her, then I will. Hopefully, Naomie will feel the same.'

Thane's thoughts were interrupted by Charles as he clapped once, "Alright, run it again. You guys only have a week before exams, and I want to ensure you're leaving my care honed to a razor's edge."

Neither Naomie nor Thane complained, despite feeling thoroughly drained and beaten. As they returned to the starting places, their minds were only on one thing.