FA Chapter 7 Combat (1)

"Unnie!" A figure called out, her voice piercing through the din of the crowd. Musana's celebration had brought about plenty of traffic in Kampala city. Many reclusive experts, business moguls and scions had decided to make this city the meeting place at this point in time. Luckily, this building was one which didn't entertain the wider public, instead catering to the Borasaek Group's scions and their retainers plus friends. But even then, those with purple pupils still made the place feel crowded because each had an entourage with an average of four others. Luna and Miss Bora had spoken about taking them to a combat room to assess their combat prowess.

And just as they had been sailing through the crowd, perfectly content with being ignored by the others, someone had called out to them, specifically, Miss Bora.

The person who had just shouted out had been deliberate in raising the volume of their voice, as if she had wanted everyone around to take notice, a childish mischievousness that made Bosingwa shake his head. Though some went back to whatever they had been doing, there were others Bosingwa observed to be listening in, particularly those with the same petalled pupils as Bora. The shout had been intended for them it seems.

Bosingwa liked the art of observation. It allowed him to glean some often missed information, or the intention of the speaker. It was how he had managed to navigate the chaotic and conflict-prone office life.

Judging by the minute pursing of Luna's lips, the person who had called out was unwelcome. He couldn't see Miss Bora's expression because she had her back to him, but he was sure that she too, wasn't pleased about being called out to.

"Did you pick up some beggars on the street, Unnie? I mean, look at them! Its as if a gust of wind could blow them over! And is that an old lady?" Bosingwa frowned at the girl's arrogant and contempt filled gaze. She was looking at them, but he had a feeling that she was not looking at them, but down at them. And the vulgar words that were spat out between her lips only compounded upon that.

Her gaze and her posture brought to mind someone Bosingwa didn't want to remember, Senney. She was acting in the same exact way as the man. Like they were the privileged people of the world...and any that were poorer than them were ants.

"What? Am I wrong? Could it be that I have to put you lot in your place?" Her expression became darker and sinister upon Bosingwa and the rest's reactions. He even had a premonition that if he or the others so much as attacked, the woman was going to kill them. He hurriedly curbed his outward reactions of rage. There was point in getting killed here. If his speculations were right on the money, then this teenage girl was the same as Luna and Miss Bora, at the liquid stage. 

[Bear with it. That little girl can kill all of you if she so decided.]

Luna's warning served to validate his conjecture.

Nails dug into skin as Bosingwa clenched his fists. It was degradingly mortifying how a teenage girl, twice below his age was stronger than him. And most of all, she had just insulted him yet, he couldn't do anything about it. He was sure that unless he reached the crystal stage, he wouldn't have been able to do anything to her, not even touch her hair! It all boiled down to one thing! Power! If he had had that, then this little girl wouldn't still be standing here!

Chubby's death shouldn't have shaken him so! Accidents always happened! And death was always that small step away from claiming every living being on this planet. If fear alone was enough to shake his resolve to the point of giving up his dream, then what had been the point of his past 20 years of toiling? 

Bosingwa felt mortified about his previous behaviour. What had been the point of sulking? It wasn't as if chubby's pieces would have recollected themselves and allowed the man to be resurrected!

Bosingwa's eyes brightened, regaining the shine that had been there this morning. This little girl deserved some measure of thanks. She had managed to reignite his drive.

"Kim Sang, if I were you, I would shut up, right about now." 

The girl took a step back as her face became a tapestry for the painting that was terror. But that only lasted for a moment before it once again made a shift, this time towards an ugly rage.

"Let's see if you can still act smug after the end of the clan competition." After those words, the girl sauntered off. Bosingwa had the urge to laugh at her antics. Even after that humiliation, she had to have the last word.

"Sorry about that." Miss Bora faced them after leaving behind the bustling crowd, having entered an elevator clearly of the private type. It was probably one meant for clan members and their retainers.

"Your apology doesn't solve anything. We were simply too weak to defend ourselves." Bosingwa said with a shrug. And he meant every word he said. Because he was going to make sure that he improved his combat prowess. 

His gaze didn't dither when the woman gazed into his eyes. He could see what the woman was hiding within her depths because he too, had experienced it many times. Rage and indignance towards her circumstances. He nodded imperceptibly, acknowledging his understanding before withdrawing his eyes. He felt that if he stared too long, he might be drawn into those beautiful eyes. He had to make sure that he didn't develop any feelings as they were people of two different worlds. 

The others didn't speak anything after his words, having tacitly agreed to his words. 

The elevator started its descent into the bowls of the earth as Luna explained their destination in detail at the signal of Miss Bora.

This building was a hydrid. That meant that it was composed of sky rises and underground floors. Only the family and its affiliates were allowed within those floors deep into the ground. Their destination was the combat room, which apparently was the deepest floor of the building.

"Don't hold back. At your current level, you won't even come close to destroying the room." Luna assured when the old woman asked.

"Oh! Now this is an intriguing construct. Could you provide me with some information on the materials used and the method of construction? I might need a Lab of such a caliber in the near future."

"Mr. Larssen!" Luna chasitised the man. The man had said that he was a scientist by profession, a theoretical and practical biologist. But Bosingwa was skeptical because he hadn't shown any credentials related to the profession.

-----

The combat room blew him away the moment the sliding doors opened. It was gigantic, magnificent, and epic. For a moment, he compared it to those of the fictional fantasy and SciFi worlds he had explored in the virtual world. He had already expected to be surprised by some measure of scale, yet this blew away those very scales themselves! It was basically a stadium! The space was a perfect cube that had a square area of close to 500m!

"The walls of this room are made of a material capable of transmuting kinetic energy to light. The light you see is actually a result of combat, where force is transformed into luminescence!" 

Bosingwa had just been on the verge of asking about the glow irradiating the space from the walls. But Luna's timely answer alleviated the need.

"Interesting! Interesting! Though I took the path of biology, materials still fascinate me." Larssen's mouth spewed exclamation sounds while he himself was crouching down. He pointed his index finger towards the ground and stabbed out, causing faint ripples to cascade outwards, glowing brighter than the surroundings.

This place was simply a fantasy arena brought to reality. The ceiling was so high up that he had a feeling only those who had reached the liquid stage could touch it with leap.

"Mr. Bosingwa! The floor is ours as the first combatants."

"Huh?!" Lines appeared within his face as a sound of surprise leaked out. He hadn't for a minute entertained the thought that he would be the first to fight.

"Right now, I do believe you can sense what's going on in your own bodies, down to the cells themselves. The only way that you can improve is through spars. A Forger can't be taught combat. The only way they improve is by fighting and ruminating upon how to break the limits imposed by their minds on their own bodies." 

Bosingwa had thought that Miss Bora was a woman of few words. But it appeared that she could speak at length too.

Some curiosity to know why he was chosen as the first crossed his mind, but in the end he squashed it. Even though training with his avatar within the virtual world had been akin to dreaming, his body could still replicate the moves now that he could recall everything with just a thought. And fighting would help with translating said moves to reality.

A glimmer of excitement lit up within him at the thought of the coming battle, causing a rush of adrenaline to course through his veins. Being a Forger was synonymous with epic battles. Maybe to others it was different, but to him, that was apt.

A few minutes had passed and 30m away, his opponent stood. A skintight grey body suit had replaced his clothes. On first sight, he had thought that he was going to be very uncomfortable in the skin tight thing, only to be amazed after donning it. It was way more comfortable than even his clothes!

"30 seconds. That's how long I will be taking before moving from this spot. Attack! But make no mistake! When I start to attack I will be coming at you with intent to kill!"

Miss Bora spoke chilly words with a chilly demeanor. Her face had taken on a colder, stoic expression. 

Bosingwa felt the pressure she was vaguely exuding. It wasn't bloodlust, but something heavy and weighty. Though, he powered through the feeling. 

He took a long inhale, before using his toes as a lever to raise up the rest of his body, performing some minor stretches in tandem with sensing through his spiritual powers. The breath he had taken was let out in a long drawn out exhale, while his feet once again solidly made contact with the floor of the combat room. His facial expression became one of serious concentration. It was time to start the duel, or maybe a one sided thrashing, depending on what Miss Bora was truly opting for.

The others were standing at the edge of the room, focused on what was about to happen.

He channelled his spiritual energy, allowing him to intimately feel every cell and muscle within his body, including the bones. The energy within didn't escape him, or how efficiently he could channel it just by following his instincts.

With a stomp filled with power, he propelled himself towards Miss Bora, appearing just a few inches away instantly, with his fist poised into a punch that he felt was even compressing the very air itself! It was exhilarating!

When the punch made contact with a palm that had abruptly appeared before it, his expectations were shattered. He felt as of his fist had just made contact with cotton, but he didn't dally, instead forming another fist, and this time it was aimed towards her stomach.

But the same thing happened. 

'Energy is being wasted. I am performing some superfluous movements.' That thought arose from the condition he was sensing within his body. The transmission of energy wasn't smooth at all and he was making some wide swings, as of he was wielding a sword.