Free Web NovelThe girl fell backward onto the grass — it wasn't a gentle fall, her body hit the ground with enough force to knock all the air from her lungs at once.
BAM!
"Ghk…!"
For a moment, she couldn't breathe.
Her fingers closed against the fake grass of the mental world, pulling some pieces loose between her nails. The blue sky was still above. The clouds were still still. The open field still looked calm.
Too calm.
That was the worst part.
Everything around her looked normal, wide, and quiet, but her body hurt as if it had just been split into several pieces.
The girl tried to get up.
Her right arm didn't respond.
She looked down.
The arm was twisted in a way it shouldn't be. The elbow was pointing the wrong direction, her fingers trembled weakly, and part of her mental sleeve was torn.
She opened her mouth, but before she could complain, a shadow fell over her face.
Matt was in front of her, standing, calm. He held a black sword in one hand, though the blade had no particular details.
Matt looked down at her with a serious expression.
"I told you not to raise your arm like that."
The girl breathed with difficulty.
"I… was trying to block."
"You did it too late."
The girl gritted her teeth.
"Because you're too fast!"
Matt didn't respond right away. He just lowered the sword slightly and aimed it at her throat.
"Then learn to move earlier."
The girl's eyes went wide.
"No, wait, I still—"
Matt moved the sword.
Shlk!
The blade went through her throat.
The girl stopped breathing.
Her eyes opened completely.
There was no scream.
There was no time.
Just a clean cut, a horrible pressure in the throat, and then nothing.
Or something worse than nothing.
Her body stopped being there.
Not in a normal way.
Not like closing your eyes.
Not like sleeping.
No.
Her consciousness broke.
The girl felt everything she was scatter across the mental field. She had no hands. No eyes. No mouth. No legs. No chest to breathe with or throat to call for help.
There were only fragments.
Pieces of thought. All separated, floating far apart.
The first time it happened, the girl had thought Matt was just trying to scare her.
She had thought the mental world would have soft rules.
She had thought dying there would be like waking up from a bad dream.
She had been an idiot.
When Matt killed her for the first time, she didn't wake up in a bed. She didn't appear standing again. She didn't feel like everything was resetting.
She felt like she stopped existing.
And for a few seconds, the only thing she could do was panic.
'No…!'
That thought appeared somewhere.
Then another.
'I don't want to disappear!'
She tried to move, but had no body.
Tried to scream, but had no mouth.
Tried to open her eyes, but had no eyes.
She could only push.
Call.
Search for herself.
Gather herself.
One of her fragments responded.
Then another.
Then one more.
It was hard.
Horribly hard.
Every part of her seemed to want to stay scattered, lost, separate from the rest. Gathering them back was like forcing herself to remember who she was while something inside her tried to erase her shape.
'I…'
Another fragment returned.
Pain.
Then fear.
Then rage.
Then the memory of Matt watching her with that insufferable calm.
'I am…'
The girl felt something.
A point.
A center.
Small.
Weak.
But hers.
'I'm not going to disappear.'
The fragments started coming back, one by one. Each one hurt. Every memory that returned was a stab. Every sensation she recovered arrived broken.
First fear. Then her chest. Then her arms. Then her throat.
The throat.
The wound was still there.
When the mental body started forming again, the girl felt her throat reconstructing itself slowly.
It was worse than dying.
The flesh returned to existence.
The nerves lit back up.
The skin closed.
The blood stopped flowing.
But she felt all of it.
Every piece.
Every second.
The girl appeared again on the grass, curled forward, both hands at her throat.
"Agh…! Ah…! Hah…!"
She breathed desperately.
Her eyes were full of tears.
Matt was sitting in his black gaming chair several meters away, sword resting on his shoulder. He was watching her in silence.
The girl looked up at him.
She wanted to speak.
Wanted to insult him.
Wanted to ask why he had done that.
But the moment she opened her mouth, her throat burned so badly that only a weak sound came out.
Matt glanced to one side, as if calculating something.
"You have thirty minutes to rest," he said.
The girl went still.
"What…?"
Her voice came out broken.
Matt looked back at her.
"Thirty minutes. Then we continue."
The girl stared at him with disbelief.
He didn't look sorry.
Didn't look worried.
Didn't look affected.
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He just looked like he was waiting. As if killing her inside the mental world were a normal part of training.
As if watching her reassemble herself from fragments of consciousness were just something she had to get past and move on.
The girl pressed her fingers to her throat.
"I… died."
"Yes."
"That hurt."
"I know."
The girl opened her eyes wider.
"You know?"
Matt didn't look away.
"Yes."
"Then why…?"
"Iris isn't going to give you a second chance if you make a mistake."
The girl went quiet.
Matt spoke in the same firm tone.
"Neither will the queen."
The girl looked down, her hands trembling.
Matt continued:
"And neither will any enemy with a little experience."
She swallowed.
"But this is the mental world…"
"That's why you still exist."
The girl didn't know how to answer.
Matt got up from the chair.
He didn't move toward her. He just gripped the sword more firmly and spoke:
"Rest."
◇◆◇
That was at the beginning.
Then came the second time.
Then the third.
Then the tenth.
Then the twentieth.
And now…
The girl opened her eyes again.
She was lying face down on the grass, her breathing cut short. The left side of her chest was still closing.
Matt had pierced her heart.
Again.
The pain was different when the wound was in the chest. It wasn't like the throat. It wasn't that immediate fear of not being able to breathe. It was a deep, heavy pressure that spread inward and made the whole body switch off before it scattered.
The girl hated that sensation.
She hated all of them.
But that one in particular made her tremble.
Her fingers moved slowly.
The grass beneath her hands felt damp, though she knew that wasn't real.
Nothing there was real.
Except the pain.
That was real.
Very real.
"Defeat fifty-four," said Matt.
The girl didn't lift her head.
She couldn't.
Her arms were still regenerating. Matt's last thrust hadn't only gone through her chest. It had also cut part of her shoulder when she tried to dodge too late.
Always too late.
That's what he said.
Too late to block.
Too late to move.
Too late to read the intent.
Too late to correct her stance.
The girl gritted her teeth against the ground.
"I know…"
Matt was standing in front of her.
He wasn't breathing heavily.
He didn't look tired.
That bothered her too.
She had died fifty-four times. He didn't even look like he'd broken a sweat.
"Your mistake was watching my sword," said Matt.
The girl squeezed her eyes shut.
Another correction.
Another damned correction.
"I told you not to only look at the weapon. Watch shoulders, feet, distance, and breathing."
"I know…"
"You don't know it if you keep doing it."
The girl opened her eyes.
Something hot rose through her chest.
Not pain.
Rage.
"I do know it!"
Matt looked at her.
The girl pressed a hand to the ground and started getting up with difficulty.
Her arm trembled.
The chest wound finished closing, but it still hurt. That was another horrible thing. Healing didn't erase the memory of the wound. Her body rebuilt itself, but her mind still knew exactly where the sword had entered.
"I know it!" she repeated, raising her voice. "You've told me many times!"
Matt's expression didn't change.
"Then apply it."
The girl stayed on her knees.
She was breathing hard. Her eyes were wet again, but this time not only from fear.
"How do you expect me to apply it when I don't last a single minute against you?"
Matt didn't respond.
That made her angrier.
The girl got to her feet, swaying.
"Every time I try to do something, you've already cut me. Every time I try to block, you've already changed your angle. Every time I try to attack you, I'm already dead."
Matt listened in silence.
The girl clenched her fists.
"Is it so hard to slow down even a little?"
Matt narrowed his eyes.
She kept speaking before she lost her nerve.
"I'm not telling you to stop training me! I am trying! I'm doing what you say! But dying like this over and over…!"
Her voice cracked.
The girl looked down.
Her fingers trembled.
"That… that feels horrible."
Matt said nothing.
The girl swallowed.
"Every time…"
The mental field went quiet.
The wind moved the grass.
Matt's gaming chair was a few meters back, completely out of place in the middle of that field.
The girl looked up.
Matt was still watching her.
Serious.
Calm.
Too calm.
And that was what finally broke something inside her.
"Don't you care?"
Matt didn't respond right away.
The girl took a step toward him.
"Don't you care that it hurts?"
"I care that you survive."
The answer was quick.
Firm.
Without doubt.
The girl went still.
Matt continued:
"If I have to choose between you hating me now or Iris killing you later because you weren't ready, I'd rather you hate me."
The girl felt that sentence hit her in an uncomfortable way.
Not because it was soft.
It wasn't.
It was cold.
But it wasn't indifferent.
That confused her.
Matt raised the sword.
"You're not fighting someone kind."
"I'm fighting you."
"Exactly."
The girl frowned.
Matt lowered the sword slightly.
"Iris isn't going to hold back if she notices you're weak. The queen won't hesitate if she suspects you're not me. And if any vampire in this place finds a crack in your performance, they'll use it."
The girl pressed her lips together.
"But…"
"You're not Iris."
The girl went still. Matt looked at her steadily.
"I know…"
"That's why you have to learn fast."
"But this is too much…"
"Yes."
She looked up.
Matt didn't soften his tone.
"It is too much. And even so it's less than what waits for you if you fail out there."
The girl didn't respond.
She wanted to stay angry.
No.
She was still angry.
But his words were beginning to reach a place she didn't want to touch.
Matt turned and walked back toward his chair.
"Thirty minutes."
The girl looked at him.
"Again?"
"Yes."
She gritted her teeth.
Matt sat down and rested the sword to one side.
"Rest."
The girl felt the rage rise again.
"You always say that after you kill me."
Matt closed his eyes.
"Because if you don't rest, the next fight will last less time."
The girl clenched her fists.
She wanted to shout at him.
Wanted to tell him he was a monster.
Wanted to tell him he was no different from the queen.
The sentence almost came out.
Very close.
But then something crossed her mind.
It wasn't a clear image at first.
It was a sensation.
A strong, sharp jolt that made her bring a hand to her temple.
The girl closed her eyes.
"Ugh…!"
Matt opened his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
She didn't respond.
Because something had appeared inside her.
A memory.
Matt's memories were somewhere within her. Not complete. Not orderly. Not always accessible. But they were there, mixed with remnants of vampire magic, fear, blood, and everything that had given rise to her existence.
And one of those memories had just activated.
A house.
A simple living room.
The smell of cleaning products.
Freshly washed clothes.
A woman hugging Matt tightly.
A promise.
"I'll come back."
The girl slowly opened her eyes.
The field was still there.
Matt was still sitting in front of her.
But the memory didn't go away.
She saw Matt closing a door before his expression broke.
She saw the car waiting outside.
She saw Iris watching him from the window.
She saw the rage.
And beneath all of it…
The desire.
A simple one.
One so strong that even she could feel it.
Matt wanted to go back.
Not to the castle.
Not to the queen.
Not to royal blood.
Not to the fights.
He wanted to go back to his home.
He wanted to see his mother.
His sister.
Clara.
He wanted that whole vampire world to leave him alone.
He wanted a quiet life.
The girl lowered her hand from her temple.
Her breathing slowed.
'Ah…'
Suddenly, the scene in front of her shifted a little. Not because the field changed.
No.
Matt was the same.
Serious.
Tired.
Sitting in a ridiculous chair in the middle of a mental world created to train her.
But now she noticed something she had ignored before.
Matt was tired too.
Maybe not physically.
But in a different way.
His shoulders were tense. His eyes had that hardness of someone who had been enduring things for too long without being able to stop. His voice was firm, but it didn't sound cruel for the sake of it.
It sounded like someone who had no time to be gentle.
The girl pressed her lips together.
That didn't make the pain go away.
Didn't make the fifty-four deaths any less horrible.
Didn't make her any less afraid.
Didn't erase the hatred that had started growing in her chest every time her consciousness scattered.
But it changed things slightly. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
Just a little.
'He's not doing it because he enjoys it.'
The girl looked down at her hands.
They were still trembling.
'Or is he?'
She looked at Matt again.
Matt was watching her, waiting for a response.
He didn't ask again.
Just waited.
The girl was quiet.
Tried to sort out her thoughts.
Matt had been cold.
Yes.
He had been hard.
Too hard.
He had killed her over and over.
He had given her advice, but always after breaking her, cutting her, or running her through.
That was horrible.
But…
If she wanted to replace him in front of the queen, walking around with his face wasn't enough.
Sounding similar wasn't enough.
Saying dry phrases and trying to fake exhaustion wasn't enough.
She had to survive.
She had to fool Iris.
She had to fool the queen.
She had to act like Matt.
When someone provoked her.
When someone attacked her.
When she was afraid.
And if she failed…
Not only would she die.
Matt would lose his chance to go home.
The queen could discover everything.
Iris could react.
Clara, his mother, his sister…
The girl swallowed.
She didn't want to think about that.
But she had to.
Because if she truly wanted to take that place, she couldn't complain just because the training was horrible.
Even though it was.
A lot.
Too much.
The girl wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
'I don't want to die again.'
That thought was immediate.
Honest.
Human.
It embarrassed her, though it shouldn't have.
Nobody normal would want to die fifty-five times.
But then another thought appeared.
'But I also don't want to be useless.'
The girl breathed slowly. Her chest hurt a little. Not from a real wound. From the memory of all of them.
Matt got up from the chair.
The girl tensed on instinct.
But he didn't take the sword.
He just looked at her.
"That's enough for today."
She blinked.
"What?"
Matt stretched his neck slightly to one side.
"We're done."
The girl just stared at him.
She had been expecting another order.
Another fight.
Another cut.
Another death.
Not that.
Matt looked toward the sky of the mental world.
"We've spent enough time here. Your mental body needs to stabilize."
The girl looked down at her hands.
Still whole.
For now.
Matt continued:
"You can sleep. Or do whatever you want inside this place as long as you don't break anything important."
The girl didn't respond.
Matt bent to pick up the sword.
The weapon dissolved into dark particles before fully reaching his hand.
Not real.
Of course.
Nothing there was real.
Except the pain.
Except the fear.
Except the decision that was starting to form inside her.
Matt turned around.
"When you wake up outside, we'll go over the weapons again. After that you'll need to practice walking without looking like you're learning how to use legs for the first time."
The girl pressed her lips together.
That last part would have bothered her at another moment.
Now she barely heard it.
Matt kept speaking:
"You'll also need to memorize basic responses in case Iris shows up. You can't hesitate when she asks you something."
The girl slowly raised her head.
Matt had his back to her.
Walking toward the chair.
As if the matter were already settled.
As if he truly were going to let her rest.
As if she had permission to give up for today.
The girl felt something uncomfortable in her chest.
Not rage.
Not fear.
Something else.
A pressure that made her close her fists.
'No.'
Her legs trembled when she tried to stand.
The mental body was still weak.
Too many deaths.
Too much regeneration.
Too much accumulated pain.
But she stood.
First one knee. Then the other.
She pressed one hand to the ground.
Breathed.
Her fingers sank into the grass.
"No."
Matt stopped.
He didn't turn right away.
The girl gritted her teeth and finished standing up.
Her legs were shaking.
Her breathing was uneven.
Her throat still remembered the cut.
Her chest still remembered the sword.
Her mind still remembered the scattering.
But she was on her feet.
Matt turned his head just slightly.
"What did you say?"
The girl looked up.
She was scared.
Very scared.
The thought of dying again made her hands sweat.
The thought of feeling her consciousness break apart for the fifty-fifth time made her want to sit down, cover her head, and never move again.
But she didn't.
"I've rested enough."
Matt turned all the way around.
His expression changed just slightly.
Not much.
But the girl noticed.
Matt was surprised.
"You're trembling."
"I know."
"Your mental body hasn't fully stabilized."
"I know."
"If we continue now, it's going to hurt more."
The girl swallowed. Her throat closed for a moment.
"I know that too."
Matt watched her in silence.
She clenched her fists tighter.
"I don't want to die again."
Matt said nothing. The girl looked down slightly.
"Every time it happens… I feel like I'm going to disappear. I feel like I won't be able to gather my thoughts back. I feel like this time it really will be the last."
Her fingers trembled.
"I hate it."
Her voice came out lower.
More honest.
"I hated you."
Matt didn't look away.
The girl raised her eyes to him.
"I think I still hate you a little."
Matt closed his eyes for a second.
"That's normal."
The girl pressed her lips together.
"Don't interrupt me."
Matt opened his eyes.
The girl breathed slowly.
"But I remembered something. I'm the one who said I could replace you."
Matt didn't respond.
"I'm the one who said I could act like you in front of the queen."
Her voice trembled.
"And if I want to do that, then I can't ask for everything to be easy."
Matt looked at her in silence. The girl lowered her gaze to her hands.
"I'm weak."
Matt didn't correct her.
That hurt a little.
But she was also grateful for it.
"I'm clumsy. I make mistakes. I still don't fully understand this body. I'm still afraid to move too fast. I'm still scared when you attack me."
She tightened her fingers.
"But I want to learn."
Matt was still quiet.
The girl looked up.
"I want to live."
Her eyes were red from crying, but her voice came out more firm.
"I want you to go home."
Matt didn't move.
"And…" ƒreewebɳovel.com
The girl hesitated.
She didn't know if she should say it.
Didn't know if she had the right.
But she said it anyway.
"I want to have a life too."
