Seriously, Deckard’s storage must have been massive. He had a ton of food with him, who knows what else, and now this. On one side of the hilltop, he drove two standards into the ground and placed a bar between them. The only thing missing was a crash mat, and I’d say I’m looking at high jump equipment.

Turning my head to the other side, I looked at a set of hoops on poles, stuck in the ground at different heights and with different diameters. It wasn't hard to guess what Deckard would want me to do, but some of them were so narrow I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to get through them, let alone leap through.

None of these were the magic tools I was kind of expecting and looking forward to. Just sort of standard exercise equipment.

“I have more than one,” he said in response to my inquiry about the size of his storage space, his eyes wandering to my hand. “…and much better ones than the ring you got at the barracks, girl. A lot more expensive too.”

Yeah, no kidding. I’ve already been told the ring was a piece of crap and that its enchantment won’t last long. Hence my piqued curiosity.

“Come on, tell me,” I said and raised my hand, tapping the ring. “Sooner or later, I’m going to have to buy a new one.”

He smirked. “I would say sooner than later. Anyway, when you’re solo, you need more space than a company seeker. I’d say two cubic meters is the baseline if you’re not going to haul anything out of the labyrinth to sell.”

Bloody hell! That was a lot of space just for supplies. Not hard to imagine, though. With my current level of appetite, it looked like a full cubic meter would be taken up just by cheap food. Then there were spare clothes, potions, Thread, and other stuff. 

He didn’t answer my question, though. I wasn’t stupid enough not to notice. Yet, I’ve given up all thoughts of pushing the issue any further. He must have had a reason for not telling me. That’s what it felt like.

Instead, I looked around. “So this...”

“...is not all,” he cut me off, smirking. I frowned but didn’t ask. There was no reason when I saw him taking out what looked like a hurdle, sticking it in the ground on the track the next moment. Then he walked around the course and placed more of them for me to jump over while extending it by quite a bit.

“I don’t think I need to explain much,” Deckard said as he walked back to the top of the hill. “You’re learning how to run. Now you should also learn how to jump and land.”

That’s what I gathered from what I saw. “I thought you were going to teach me your fighting style?”

“Defense first and foremost,” he said. “If your attack fails, you have no choice but to defend yourself.”

“Running away is not a defense,” I argued.

He gestured to the track. “If the defense fails, you run.”

“And these?“ I glanced around.

“It’s nice if you can dodge an attack, but if you break your arm on landing, it doesn’t do you much good, does it?” He raised an eyebrow, taunting me to answer.

If he thought I would argue with him, he was wrong. I understood where he was going with this, and I had to admire his patience. “You have to learn to crawl before you can walk, huh?”

“What?” He paused. “I want to teach you how to land, how to make a roll. Not crawl.”

“Oh, I get that. It’s just saying where I come from. Meaning I have to learn the basics first.”

Deckard gave me a slight nod and gestured around. “Then learn them!”

“Where do I start?” There was no point in hesitating. 

“There.” He pointed to the high jump. “Jump over that bar and land in a roll. You know how to do a roll, right?”

Of course, I knew. However, I was a lot younger the last time I did them. “I do,” I said, trying not to let the doubts creep into my voice.

“Well, show me,” he motioned to the bar once again.

Stilling my urge to break into a run and leap over the bar, I’ve reached the equipment. The wooden pole was at my waist height, nothing high. Even so, I did a few forward rolls on the ground to refresh my muscle memory before my first attempt. Only then, I somersaulted over the bar.

“Too easy, I see,” Deckard remarked with satisfaction in his voice and raised the bar. Not by much, just to the level of my belly button. It was not hard to dive forward over it but a challenge to land in roll properly. I managed. Just not to my satisfaction. So I tried it a few more times, learning from previous mistakes while taking advice from Deckard before I told him to raise the bar higher.

For a gal who didn’t play any sports, I found myself having fun.

It was about coordination, not exertion, and as long as I could do it well without pain too. I hit the limit when the bar was above my breasts. Even with skills and stats, it was simply hard for me to jump that high. Not when the weights were putting extra strain on my muscles.

My failure, according to Deckard, was the best time for a few laps on the track. So, remembering the athletics I used to watch with my father, a fan of most sports, I took up hurdling. 

The technique I saw on TV was harder to master than I expected, especially when the obstacles were firmly embedded in the ground. Throw in wings and tail, and my first attempt, first hurdle, and jump over it end up in me falling down, face first, into the grass. It wasn’t the last time either.

Few laps and countless crashes later, more splits followed. Then, instead of leaping over the bar, Deckard presented me with hoops. Its purpose was not to teach me to jump through them like a trained tiger in a circus but through a narrow space. Whether it was a crevice in the rock, I needed to hide in or a barrage of enemy attacks I was forced to dive through. Jumping through smaller and smaller hoops taught me to be more aware of my limbs, especially my wings and tail. 

While losing them wasn’t the end of the world, it could be disastrous in combat. Not to mention regrowth issues that follow. Better to avoid losing them.

Ironically, that’s what Deckard was trying to teach me.

And so I learned. Forward rolls were easy. Doing sideways rolls was trickier. Backwards rolls? These were especially hard to perform through the hoops, but at the bar, that’s where I rolled. Even Deckard was surprised when I ran towards the bar and leaped headfirst with my back to the bar. The only downside was the lack of a crash mat, but I managed to transition into a backward roll quite smoothly, and what’s more, without hurting myself.

“What was that?” Deckard asked, a look of wonder all around his face. It warmed my heart a little, made me proud. 

Still, I tried to sound nonchalant about it. “That’s how it’s done back on my planet.”

He cocked his head. “So you’ve been learning how to fight monsters? I thought you were a florist.”

“I was.” I loved the work, the flowers. “It’s a sport. Are there any sports in Eleaden? Competitions?”

“In jumping? No. Most tournaments involve fighting,” he said, amused by the idea of jumping competition.

“I see.” The mere use of doping substances gives athletes an advantage over others. Skills would ruin the fairness completely. The existence of tournaments got my attention, though. “Are there any competitions in Castiana?”

“Sure they are, girl.” He laughed and straightened up a little bit. “You’re looking at last year’s champion.”

I was speechless. “You?”

“Why can’t I?” he asked, offended.

“ I mean...” hesitating, I searched for the right words. “...I assumed you spent most of your time here in the labyrinth.”

“Most!” He pointed out. “Not all of it. I need to be around people too. That said, being a solo down there can be hard on the mind. It’s not for everyone, and there’s no shame to admit you’re not solo seeker material. Remember that, girl.” 

It wasn’t hard to nod. Not after how my maiden visit to the first floor startled me. Now I was surrounded by pleasant green meadows and rolling hills as far as I could see. It was difficult to imagine what it was like down there, how oppressive it must have been.

“Speaking of which, you seem interested in tournaments?” he asked.

There was nothing to think about. “Sure. Love to see one.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about spectating, but taking part.” For a moment, I expected him to be joking, but his half-serious half-grinning expression said otherwise.

“For real?” I asked, just to be sure.

He shrugged. “Why not.”

“I...” The very thought freaked me out. At first, at least. My battles with humans haven’t gone too well so far. Every time I ended up mangled. Hence my hesitation. Thinking about it, a tournament like that was good practice. Probably the reason Deckard participated.

“What do you say, girl?” he asked, his deep voice snapping me out of my reverie. 

“It’s something to think about,” I said, careful with my decision. I wasn’t fully committed to it.

“Sure, take your time. The basic requirement is to be in your hundreds anyway,” he said casually.

His lack of regard for this milestone in most people’s lives was understandable. It still irritated me. Class Evolution was my hope for a life other than that of a slave. That’s why I was so excited, but also dreading it. What if I have no options other than basic Slave evolution? That question has been on my mind a lot lately. Level 97, just three more, and I’ll see what direction my life takes. That’s reason I haven’t allocated that one stat point I got with the last level up yet.

As neither of us pursued the question of tournaments or my style in leaping over the bar further, training got back on track. It was intense, just like before, and I was doing my best yet couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. At first, I thought the reason for the anxiety that grew at the bottom of my stomach was the mistakes I was making during training. There were more and more of them, and my frustration grew with it. For a moment, I suspected some beast was lurking around and stirred my instincts. 

This was the first floor, though. Nothing but horned hares lived here. It took me a while to connect my growing unease with the arrival of the Imperial Chief Healer. 

“Okay, let’s call it a day,” Deckard called down the hill after seeing me trip over the hurdle twice in a row. This time I didn’t manage to stifle my urge and shouted out loud, letting my emotions, my frustration, run free.

“Sorry,” I said as soon as I reached the flat top, defeated.

Deckard just acknowledged my apology with a slight nod and resumed packing the equipment. It really was over for now. Slumping, I sat cross-legged and punched the ground with a growl. I was angry at myself and my inability to get the dreaded examination waiting for me out of my head. Pissed off that I had to go through with it in the first place, scared. Time was running out.

“Get up, girl.” It sounded like an order. Even so, I looked up at Deckard first. He seemed serious and vexed with me. I didn’t blame him. “Get up! I want to see what you’ve learned.”

Did I learn anything? It didn’t seem like it. Just one skill level-up, that was all.

• Perfect Equilibrium reaches lvl 17

Looking at the only notification from this forenoon, I got to my feet. 

Deckard moved even before I straightened up, tripping me. Why? The question lay on my mind for only a brief moment before my instincts kicked in, and I went into a sideways roll. Landing in a crouch, I looked up, but Deckard was gone. 

One blink, and his foot was right in front of my face. I only had time to raise my hands before his kick connected. The force behind it sent me flying backwards, made the bones in my arms crack. Painful, not the worst thing that’s happened to me. A bit of mana, and they started mending before I hit the roll. 

Crouching again, my heart racing, I searched the domain, finding nothing. Deckard was out of its range. Yet before I opened my eyes to look around, he was standing next to me. In a move I didn’t even notice, he tripped my legs a second time, forcing me to do a forward roll.

First time I’ve ever witnessed him fight. The difference was staggering. There was no doubt in my mind he went easy on me. Yet, I was unable to follow his movements, only barely responding to them.

His intent was clear, though. As he said, he wanted to see what I learned. Forced, I did show it to him. Rolls, leaps, dives, and more, while beaten up black and blue. 

With a kick in the stomach that made a couple of my organs rupture and me nearly puke, he sent me flying. I got halfway up the sky, unable to admire the view through my teary eyes before I started falling back. Panic seized me for a moment. Dropping from that height was not something to risk, so I did the only thing that came to my mind. I spread my wings, felt the wind on them. It was glorious but couldn’t be called flying, and it was far from gliding too. I was still falling. Even so, wings slowed my descent enough not to break a bone. Only my ankle got hurt.

“I didn’t expect that,” Deckard commented on my fall. His sudden appearance next to me made me jump. Instincts immediately kicked into high gear, making me assume a defensive posture while I focused on movement in the domain as my eyes proved useless.

“Nice reaction, too,” he said. “Be at ease, girl. I’ve seen enough.”

Did he? Was he bluffing? Most likely not. I saw him standing casually in my domain longer than before. When I opened my eyes, and he was still standing there with his hands in his pockets, an involuntary sigh of relief escaped my throat. A sign of weakness, according to my instincts. Yet an adequate response. I was defeated, beaten, and in pain.

A satisfied smile appeared on his face. “For basically a day of training, more than excellent.”

“I...” was lost for words. His praise delighted me but left a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. “Did I do so well?” The doubt in my mind crept into my voice.

“Oh, don’t be disheartened, girl,” he said, patting me on the head like I was his puppy. “I wanted to see your reactions, not you thinking.”

So that’s why he wouldn’t let me breathe for a second? “That wasn’t what you trained me to do,” I said, batting his hand away.

“Yet, you put what you learned to good use,” he argued. 

Realy? It struck me as a desperate and futile attempt at defense. Some of my bones were still cracked, my kidney ruptured, and countless bruises adorned my body. “If you say so,” I mumbled, putting my trust in his word.

“I do. In my experience, when you don’t have time to think about what you’re doing, bad habits show up, making you stumble when you usually wouldn’t. It gives you a good perspective on what you should be focusing on in training.” Deckard explained. “You got a few yourself.”

“Bad habits?” I asked, not surprised I had one.

He nodded. “Most related to your overgrown duster and stunted wings. Rezso could give you some advice. I’m also thinking about Avier. Their kind has wings between the shoulder blades, but their experience might help you.”

His assessment gave me pause. My extra limbs allowed me better body coordination, gave me more stability. Hell, the wings slowed my fall, yet Deckard saw it the other way around. They were the root of my problems. As much as I wanted to, I found it hard to argue back. 

As a novice florist, I thought the bouquets I made were flawless. My older and more experienced colleagues taught me otherwise. Thinking back, my anger at them was unjustified. The first ones I made were just a handful of flowers put together, nothing to brag about.

I stiffened when I felt Deckard’s hand on my head again. He did not pet me like last time but touched the moss between my antlers. “I noticed it earlier. It seems a little dry, wilted.”

It didn’t take a touch to know that was the case. “I know. I left it wet when I took a bath, even watered it down when I ate earlier. You saw me.”

Embarrassing, frustrating at the same time. Esu gave it to me as a gift. Something I should be able to take care of. And I was failing.

“Did you feed it mana?” Deckard asked, still poking at the moss.

“Eh...?” I paused.

“I’m not a florist, but this is magic moss, right?” He pointed out and made me laugh at my stupidity. I was thinking too backwards, like a florist on Earth, about fertilizer and soil. The idea of mana did not cross my mind at all. I wiped away the tears that welled up in my eyes from the pain the laughter had caused me, glad I didn’t have to put forest soil in my hair, let alone manure. 

Just a bit of mana and the moss sprang to life.