More practice

"Don't hit the bag so hard," Michel's trainer mumbled at John. The old man sat off to the side of both John and Michel like all his job required of him was to just sit back and critique.

Though, when John thought about it, that probably was his job.

That, unfortunately, was just one of many different 'tips' that the old man passed off to John. He didn't give his advice off to Michel. Apparently, his trainee already knew all the tricks he had to tell John. In a way, it seemed like the old man was just trying to keep himself busy while Michel just worked himself to the bone.

The blond fighter didn't talk once his workout started. It was like he just fell into his work, and everyone who was used to working with him, they just let him do it. His trainer left him alone, the other people in the gym gave him his time, and he went at the weights listening through one earbud.

Hitting the punching bag for John felt eerily similar to trying to save mana. He couldn't blow every last ability he had at once, he had to save power, compile his hits with the right amount of **** until the bag was moving around so much that even little taps would send it off spinning in another direction. It wasn't easy. If he wasn't constantly attacking, constantly moving, then the bag would fall back towards him, and his next attack would hit with so much **** that it hurt him more than it hurt the bag.

He caught on pretty quickly that the point of the exercise seemed to be about teaching how to hone and utilize the power of his attacks. The problem he felt with it, though, was that he just wasn't hitting hard enough. His powers didn't even really help him with that fact.

-1 hp
-1 hp
Damage negated

The pop-ups kept appearing in front of his face every time John hit the punching bag. They weren't even useful! They were just taunting him! A simple use of Observe told him that, even when he took a point of health away from the 'training dummy' he had in front of him, the punching bag just regenerated it immediately after he hit it. He didn't even do anything to the bag!

An inanimate object was literally kicking his ass!

Achievement Unlocked! "That's Impressive!"
Fight a losing battle against something that isn't even alive!
+1 Strength

"Okay, this is ridiculous!" John snapped and stepped away from the punching bag before it could fall back into his fists again. He could feel the eyes of various people around the room turning to look at him as he spoke to the trainer. "This bag is doing more damage to me than I am to it!" A few people chuckled almost knowingly, as if they had gone through the exact same thing.

"Give it time..." Michel chuckled along with the others from off to one side. The sound of his weight bar clinking as he worked practically overcame all other noise in the room. "Soon enough, you'll be faster and stronger than you realize."

"It doesn't feel like it," John muttered back and rubbed his wrists. As great as the game was about lessening the visible physical damage he went through, he felt like it didn't do enough towards how sore he could still feel after working himself ragged. It was probably too much to ask for, and he knew that, but still...

If he had superpowers, why not make the most of them?

"I don't know," a soft giggle drew John's attention to another side of the room as Grace patted a towel against the sweat gathered on her neck. Her natural, olive tanned skin seemed flushed as she **** herself to breathe evenly again, "it always seems like there's some trick you guys have for hitting it harder... like it's some massive secret on how to hit a punching bag right."

"No secret..." Michel answered and casually set his weight bar back up on the rack. "It's just all about learning how to harness your strength and speed and..." he paused and stepped over to the same punching bag as John. Without even putting on a glove, his fist snapped out towards the hard leather bag almost blindingly fast. The bag jerked under the **** of his blow, and swung hard away from him. "putting that power to use. It just gets easier the more you do it."

"Uh-huh, sure." Grace shook her head at Michel. Out of everyone that John was becoming used to seeing in the gym, Grace was the only out of her standard style of clothing that day. Her hair was done up in a high ponytail, likely to keep it all out of her face. She still had on her tight, black spandex pants down below, and they hugged to her form like a second skin as always, but her top was different. Instead of the small, revealing sports bra she usually had on, she was wearing an actual shirt today. It was a baggy piece of thick, black cloth and did nothing to accentuate the curves or fitness of her form that her outfit normally did. It was extremely modest, to the point she even went as far as to choose one with long sleeves.

At first, John thought it might have been because of him. The nearly exhibitionist-like events of the previous day burned clearly in his memories, and he wouldn't have blamed her if she felt the need to cover up after that. What surprised him, though, was the moment when he found her relationship score to be higher than the last time he had been with her.

Grace Patel
Level 13, Trainer
<Miss Mysterious>
HP: 261/346
Relationship: 10

It was even in the positive!

There was something about what Michel said that stuck with John after that. His words...about harnessing power in his strength and speed...they just kept reappearing in his thoughts. There was something about them that a part of him couldn't let go of. They were useful in a way. It wasn't until he was almost at the end of his workout that it hit him.

Mana...

When he had unlocked Cassandra's book, he had done it by manipulating mana! If he could have done that by simply twisting some of his magic into something that worked as a key, then why couldn't he have just tried applying that to his fighting? He had been sitting around for so long, just waiting for other abilities to appear... Perhaps... if he just had an idea in mind, he could have triggered it himself!

There was a slight pause in the beating that John was giving to his punching bag as he stepped back away from it. His strained, heavy breathing slowed as he stood there, and after a couple seconds, he blinked his eyes close and began to focus. He just needed a plan. An idea. If he could have learned how to harness his strength and speed into his punches... then why couldn't he have have harnessed his mana too?

John didn't stay standing in place for long. With the experience he had gotten from manipulating his mana once, it was much easier for him to work this time when he had a clear idea in mind of what it was he was going to do.

Before long, he felt it. It was small at first, like a light trickling sensation of water or some kind of liquid pouring down the inside of his arms. This energy seeped from a soft, burning core inside of him as he stood there. It trailed down his limbs slowly like molasses, leaving goosebumps across his skin as it went until finally it reached the spot he had been waiting for and began to pool and gather along the joints in his hands. Each bone, every last finger and knuckle, pulsed as the time ticked by, whilst, at the same time, leaving his palm feeling mysteriously empty until finally...

New Skill: Infused Strike. Level 1, 10 MP.
Infused Strike: Charge an unarmed attack with the power of your mana and, perhaps even, the very pillars of the abyss itself. A standard Infused Strike deals magical damage (Ability Level times Two) on top of regular damage. Infused Strike, if empowered with the energy of an abyssal pillar, may apply additional damage, conditions, and effects based on the type of pillar applied. Empowering Infused Strike with the energy of a pillar may be done by meditating within the heart of each pillar. One pillar effect may be active at a time.
Current Pillar Effects: None

The blip of the new pop-up brought a smile to John's face at the end of his meditation. His hands, still wrapped in the protective layers of gauze and leather boxing equipment, instinctively rose up to the sides of his head as he took his own fighting stance. It didn't just feel instinctive anymore to him. Even as he churned at the well of mana inside and used his new ability, a part of him already seemed to know the ways he was supposed to turn his fists. It was different from what it should have been mere moments ago when he was weaker... but he knew how to do it with both his old strength and his new strength, too.

-4 hp

His fist slammed against the hard leather bag with a loud crack! The chain holding his punching bag up clinked with the hit, and both John and the Trainer watched as the hundred pound bag suddenly lurched away from his blow.

"Shit..." John heard the old man mumble from off to the side. He didn't stop hitting it, again and again; his fists just whipped out against the hardened cowhide. "You really just might be some kind of natural..." A soft chuckle echoed out from behind John as he worked.

It didn't phase him. After a while, nothing seemed to, not even the bag anymore. He decided partway through that at this point, he needed the levels more than he needed the mana. If Cassandra was suddenly chasing him around after having her journal stolen, then he really needed to get stronger. On top of that, Infused Strike was his damaging ability. If he didn't gain any levels, then chances were that, the next he ran into Cassandra, she really would just kill him again with a single shot.

He wound up using the ability as a type of safety net. Every time he failed to keep the bag aloft and constantly moving, he hit it with another Infused Strike. If the bag ever came to a rest, or fell back towards him too quickly, he practiced his sidestep and hit it again. It actually turned out to be a very useful learning tool.

Eventually, around the same time that everyone else began to clean up, John brought his practice to an end as his mana finally ran out. He wasn't too worried about being caught out without any of it, especially since he still had the time after practice to refill it with.

He was in the process of gathering up his own belongings and picking up stray, forgotten towels when he ran into Grace on her way out of the gym. He had barely spoken to her throughout the whole day, and despite his attempts at trying, she seemed to just ignore him and everyone else for the most part. However, if he was just going to die to Cassandra in what could have been no more than a few hours, then he didn't see much of a point in letting her just duck and avoid him all night.

"Hey," John grunted for her attention before she could finish making for the exit. His eyes flicked down to the jiggling fullness of her chest as she sped up slightly to get by him. One of her hands lifted slightly and brushed through her hair as if to create a wall between them with her long black locks. Unfortunately, hiding her face from view did nothing to get rid of John. With one hand, he reached out and lightly touched her shoulder to try and get her to look at hi-

His movement was cut off by a loud, curt gasp and wince from Grace. Her whole body lurched on contact and physically retreated away from John when he touched her, and for a moment he was worried that he may have accidentally hurt her somehow with Infused Strike. On one heel, she pivoted towards John slightly as he came to a stop next to her, worry furrowing his features, while she lifted one hand defensively over her chest.

"Woah, wha-" he stopped. His eyes fell to past her own frowning face, to the tiny crevice between her neck and the giant, thick shirt she had put on. He just stood there, staring at her for a good few seconds as his mind briefly struggled to make sense of the dark, horrible bruise on the side of her neck.