The rules of combat - Jack's edition

Millia watched Jack’s hands as he steered the steel chariot back to their home. The mortal realm was so different from her own, and she was fascinated by it all. She had seen so many amazing things in just a short amount of time, and she couldn’t wait to see more.

Jack glanced over at her and smiled. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

Millia nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes,” she said. “Everything is so… exciting here. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I thought you considered this mortal realm to be beneath you?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

Millia rolled her eyes. “Not everything is about that, you know,” she said. “I may think that the mortal realm is inferior to my own, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate its beauty.” She looked out the window again, watching the world go by. “Even the ugliest things can have their charm.”

Jack chuckled. “Clearly, you've never been to Detroit."

"I haven't," Millia confirmed.

“Then I'll await your judgement if we ever set foot there together.”

They drove in silence for a few moments, but Millia could feel Jack’s eyes on her. She glanced over at him and saw that he was staring at her legs. She followed his gaze and realized that her chiton had ridden up, exposing most of her thighs. She quickly pulled it back down, feeling her face heat up.

Jack just smirked. “What?” he asked. “I can’t look at my nymph?” He raised an eyebrow. Millia glared at him, but she knew her face was still red. He was enjoying teasing her, she knew that much at least.

“Yes, you can look,” she said. “But you don’t have to be so obvious about it.” She looked away, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her body. Why was she reacting like this? She had always been so confident and unafraid, but now she felt shy and flustered. It was frustrating and confusing. And also kind of… exciting.

Jack chuckled. “Subtlety was never my strong suit."

"Of course not. You're a brute, after all." She glanced back at him, a smirk on her lips. He grinned back at her, but said nothing.

***

Later that evening, Jack was standing in the basement, his heart racing with anticipation. He had cleared the room of any furniture, wanting a wide space where he could teach Millia how to fight. The concrete floor was cold beneath his bare feet, and the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling cast flickering shadows around the room. The walls were lined with old boxes and dusty tools, but he had pushed them aside to create a makeshift sparring area.

Millia was standing across from him, her dress flowing around her in the dim light. He had told her to wear something comfortable, but she had just laughed and said that her chiton was the most comfortable thing she owned. She was barefoot, her pink toenails sparkling in the faint glow. Her golden hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. He could see the outline of her body through the thin fabric of her dress, and he felt a rush of desire at the sight. But he pushed it away, focusing on the task at hand.

“So, nymph-san,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Are you ready to start your journey toward martial supremacy?” He cracked his knuckles, preparing for their first training session. The air in the room was thick with the scent of dust and mildew, but he hardly noticed it.

Millia nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I'm a nymph of the Forest, remember?” she said with unbending pride. “I can handle anything you brute of a mortal could throw at me.”

Jack grinned at her boldness. “We’ll see about that,” he said, raising his fists in a fighting stance. “Come at me, my nymph of twigs and bushes.”

Millia didn't hesitate. She ran at him with surprising speed, her movements graceful and fluid. Jack barely had time to react before she was on him, her fists flying towards his face. He ducked under her first punch and blocked her second with his forearm, feeling the impact reverberate through his bones. She was stronger than he had expected, and faster too. And she wasn't untrained either. She knew how to punch.

“Not bad,” he said, impressed despite himself.

Millia smirked, her eyes glinting in the dim light. “And you're still thinking of me as a mere mortal,” she said, circling him slowly. “I'm not human, Jack. Don't forget that.” She lunged at him again, this time aiming a kick at his stomach. He blocked it with his arm, but he could feel the **** behind it. For a girl barely the third of his mass, she was incredibly strong.

“I won't forget it,” he replied, his breath coming faster now as they exchanged blows. “How about we make this a bit more interesting?"

"What do you suggest, brute?" Millia asked, dodging a jab from Jack.

“A scoring system. One of us gets hit, we get a strike. At three strikes, we have to make a sacrifice. Deal?" Jack shot back, grinning.

Millia raised an eyebrow. “And what kind of sacrifice are you suggesting?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

“We'll have to remove an item of clothing, naturally." Jack replied, his eyes locked on hers. "What else did you expect, nymph? We are the servants of the goddess of lust after all."

Millia's eyes widened in shock, and Jack could see the blush spreading across her cheeks. “That's not just. You're the teacher, I'm the student. Logically, I'd be at a disadvantage." She protested, but she didn't reject the idea immediately.

He laughed, enjoying her reaction. “How about this? Each strike against me means I'll have to make a sacrifice. While it's still three for you.” He smirked. “Would that make the powerful nymph of twigs feel more comfortable?"

Millia considered it for a moment, hesitation still written over her face.

"Sorry, that was rude of me. I shouldn't take advantage of a frail little nymph such as yourself." Jack continued. "Let's just forget I said anything, shall we?"

Millia scowled, eyes narrowing. "No need to go easy on me, warrior Jack," she said. "Two strikes against me for every one against you."

"Deal." Jack agreed, holding out his fist. Millia bumped it with her own, the impact sending a thrill through him. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this alive.

Millia nodded, her eyes sparkling with determination. “Alright then, Jack Temple of the Delta ****. Let's see what you've got.” And with that, she launched herself at him with a speed and ferocity that took his breath away. The dim light of the basement seemed to flicker around her, casting shadows across her face and highlighting the curves of her body beneath her dress. Jack felt his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to keep up with her onslaught. Her bare feet, soft and pale, barely seemed to touch the floor as she moved, her toes flexed with each step. Her chiton, thin and flowing, revealed tantalizing glimpses of her skin beneath, teasing him with every movement. She was beautiful and deadly, a **** of the divine wielding the blessing of nature itself.

But he was the Champion of Aphrodite, and he wasn't about to get beaten by his own guardian.

They clashed in a flurry of punches and kicks, she using speed and agility, he using instincts honed through years of grueling training and experience. She aimed a kick at his chest, overextending slightly, and he caught her leg. She tried to pull away, but he held her in place by grabbing the hem of her chiton, his hand wrapped around the thin fabric Her skin was soft beneath his touch, warm and inviting. He felt a rush of desire, but **** it down, focusing on the fight. Millia used her free leg to kick at his head, but he ducked under the blow and pulled on the chiton, sending her crashing to the floor. He followed her down, pinning her beneath him before she could react.

“Gotcha,” he growled, his face inches from hers. He could feel the heat of her body, smell the sweet scent of her skin. It was intoxicating, and he struggled to keep his focus. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her nipples hard through the thin fabric of her chiton. He could feel every inch of her body, and it was threatening to drive him wild. Her legs were spread, her knees on either side of his hips. "Strike one, nymph-san," he whispered.

Millia glared up at him, her chest heaving with exertion. “Luck, brute. Nothing but luck.” She snapped, but she made no move to push him away. Her eyes were bright, almost feral, and Jack could feel the tension coiled within her, ready to spring. Jack grinned, enjoying the fire in her eyes.

“Whatever you say, nymph,” he said, releasing her and taking position. "One strike for you, zero for the brute. Let me know when you're ready for strike two." He laughed, his eyes never leaving hers.

Millia scrambled to her feet, her dress askew. He could see her cleavage, the tops of her breasts visible through the neckline. The hem of her dress was torn slightly, exposing a long, slender leg. Jack swallowed hard, forcing himself not to stare. Millia tugged at her dress, trying to cover herself, but it was a losing battle. The tear was too big, and the fabric too flimsy.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she hissed, her face flushed. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Does it distract you, mighty nymph of twigs? You think an enemy would care if you're uncomfortable?" Jack raised an eyebrow, his voice low. “What happens when your chiton tears during battle?”

Millia glared at him. “You’re just trying to distract me,” she accused, tugging at her dress again.

“Maybe,” Jack admitted, smirking. “Is it working?” He flexed his fingers, preparing for her next attack.

Millia didn’t respond, but he could see the anger in her eyes. She was furious, and he braced himself, knowing that her next attack would be even more ferocious.

And he was right. Millia came at him like a storm, her movements wild and unpredictable. She punched and kicked with righteous fury, a blur of ferocity. Jack gave her space, tracing the patterns of her movements and waiting for an opening. Her feet were quick and light, barely touching the floor as she spun and flipped across the room. But her dress was a liability now, and he used that to his advantage. He grabbed the torn hem, using it to pull her off balance. She stumbled, giving him the opening he needed.

He took it, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against him. Her back was pressed against his chest, and he could feel every curve of her body. She struggled against him, but he held her locked against his frame, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“Gotcha again,” he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against her skin. She shivered in his arms. "Two strikes for you, honorable nymph of the Forest. I'm afraid you'll have to sacrifice some cloth now."