I moved sharply to the right with my right hand moving up and swinging towards the left side of my chest with jerky Inconsistent movements. There was a resounding ping and a small shower of sparks as something was deflected off the side of the dagger in my right hand.
I moved a few steps back, my hand and the dagger still vibrating from the intensity of the previous hit. But I did not have time to gather myself as I had to duck my head down as another copper colored chain whip flew over my head with incredible speed.
My entire body ached from all the sharp and sudden movements I have been forced to make all day. My entire focus was sharpened to the point of a needle, as any wrong movement or miscalculation would earn me a few days of welts, sores, a few dislocations and if I was incredibly unlucky another broken collar bone.
During the time I had spent training together with Samson, I have been able to pinpoint a very huge flaw in Samson's way of attacking, and that was precisely the fact that his chains always let out whoosh like sounds when they moved.
And it was because of that warning I quickly rolled to the left dodging the descending chain and preventing myself from being slammed by it. The next chain flicked itself towards my left hip, and the gun in my left hand moved quickly to intercept.
The impact as usual shook my hand prompting me to shake it around a bit to get some feeling back into it. I quickly moved my eyes back to Samson, dagger and gun at the ready.
During the course of the training Samson had deemed me ready to replace one of the revolvers with a thinner bladed weapon.
The dagger was the answer of that decision, but everything was a due process, I was already quite used to the guns, so it would take me quite a while before I would be able to effectively use the dagger as comfortably as I could use the gun, and in both hands too.
Using the dagger to deflect Samson's whips was harder than using the guns. The dagger was thinner which it made more susceptible to shock every time it received an impact from Samson's whips.
Not to mention It took me a while to get used to the different weight, the dagger was lighter than the gun, which meant it moved faster and experienced less resistance from the air anytime it was used. Many fighters would think this was better, but it was not so for someone who was already quite used to a particular style of fighting.
Samson had said I knew how to adapt, learn and become familiar with any weapon way faster than an average person. He also said even in the core universe, there were not many people with such an ability, they were called weapon masters or Arsenals. Of course due to this ability they all had to go through incredibly rigorous training.
The easier it was for them to get used to a weapon, the harder it becomes to get used to another. So most of them just chose to focus on one particular type of weapon making them masters of that particular weapon.
But Samson had no intention of having me focus on one particular weapon, his reason being that Mages almost never seem to rely on weapons, even the Battlemages who also focused on physical prowess and enhancements usually focused most of their attentions on their magic.
So in the end it was his intention to turn me into a jack of all trades but a master of none, or I can miraculously pull off a miracle, and become master of all. But for now I was stuck doing what Samson has coined basic training.
Unlike normal basic training where I would be required to train my body to increase my strength, stamina and speed. Due to the gene modifier we could directly skip that part of my training and focus more on skill sets and the ability to fight.
I quickly got up to my feet and jumped almost two meters up in the air as I avoided the sweeping attack Samson made. But this move left me wide open, leaving me with no choice but to cross my dagger and gun to intercept the chain whip that was flicking towards my chest.
The chain hit with more impact than I expected pushing My weapons into my chest, and causing a rather nasty cut from the tip of my jaw to the middle of my throat. The force from the hit threw me through the air as I landed awkwardly on the ground and slid back a few feet.
Luckily for me the floor In the lab was not uneven and it was made of a rather smooth material. I avoided getting any abrasions, but it still hurt like a bitch moving on the ground like that.
Samson gave me space to catch my breath as I shakily made my way back up and on my feet. I could feel the cut under my jaw as it steadily dripped blood to the floor.
The soft hits it made when it came into contact with the floor served as a reminder about how lucky I was that Samson had not decided to hit me harder. If the knife had gone any deeper I would have been in a very different situation than I was in now.
Samson flicked his chain whips to get my attention. I found it incredibly hard to focus on Samson. This was the part of the fight where you would put all of your focus on the moves your opponent made. You would focus on the way he breathed, they way his body was positioned and the way his eyes moved.
But Samson was a freaking golem, a magical robot with a body made of metal. And his four purple eyes had a tendency to dance all over his face, just like it was doing now.
Maybe a veteran fighter would find flaws in all of Samson's movements, but as far as I was concerned, Samson had no openings and there was no way I could predict the golem's moves.
All I could rely on was my own two eyes and the sounds that his chains made whenever he wanted to attack. I crouched a little bringing my body close to the floor and making myself as small of a target as possible. My tired muscles protested, but my weary mind and soul were quite determined to keep those whips off my body.
Whoosh went the whip heralding the start of the next round of their training. The whips however came faster than ever this time leaving me no choice but to push my tired body to the limit.
I moved my revolver so that the chain impacted its side, I ignored the subsequent vibrations as I quickly moved my dagger to intercept the next chain. Then I raised my left leg up and jumped to the side a little, dodging another sweeping attack.
I moved my right hand upward almost as if I was slashing at someone.
My dagger got entangled and pulled out of my tired grip, I had to duck the subsequent swing of the next chain and moved my gun into my right hand.
Then I moved my left hand behind me and put all of my focus Into deflecting and dodging the incoming barrage of attacks from the chains. I moved left and right rapidly swinging my right hand and the revolver in it.
With every single impact made on the gun, sparks were let out and intense vibrations shook his hand as it was rapidly becoming numb.
But I held on, surprising even myself. A less formal way of saying this would be that I was in the zone. Right now as far as I was concerned there was nothing but the swinging chains, the sounds they made as they flew through the air, and the gun in my hand.
I moved fast to deflect the chains and Samson moved faster. There was a rhythm to this, and it did not take long for ne to find that rhythm and get comfortable with it. But then Samson would change the tempo of his attack throwing the rhythm off and forcing Me to find it again. But once I find it, Samson changes it again keeping me moving and in an incredibly focused state.
Soon the chains and the gun in my hand became nothing but a blur as they were moving with such speed that the eyes of a normal human would not be able to keep up with. In the end the frequency with which Samson change the tempo and rhythm of the fight was way to fast for me to keep up and I was disarmed.
Then Samson swung both whips simultaneously, I raised both of my hands to intercept. I winced in pain a little, as I ignored the sting of the chains colliding and wrapping around my arms. From then on it was challenge of strength between Samson and me to see who was stronger.
I had veins bulging from almost every visible point of my body, Samson however did not seem to be in any difficulty with the only reaction from him being his eyes excitedly dancing allover his face.
After a while Samson seems have gotten tired of playing a game as he let out a sigh of exasperation. He shifted his body a bit and pulled at his chains with almost no difficulty at all. He swung his chain and sent me crashing face first into the cluster of beds arranged side by side in the lab/infirmary.
Then Samson retracted his chains back to his body until they melted back into his body forming his hands. Samson flexed his hands a bit before he made his way towards the almost completely destroyed group of beds.
Some of the beds had their metal frames bent to such an angle, I doubted they would ever be straight again. Samson moved a few of them aside and he gave a sharp wince.
I was covered in a pool of my own blood and a few of my bones were positioned in rather awkward angles. But thankfully I was still alive, however I was rapidly Loosing consciousness from exhaustion and pain. As Samson carefully picked me up i heard him say.
"May be I went a little to far, well it's not too bad as long as he is still breathing, there's nothing that can't b fixed."
And then Samson unceremoniously threw my body Into the pod that I had woke up in before.
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