He struck down two enemies at once, entering Form 4 – Encompass. His blade moved constantly. He deflected another's sword, cutting them down at once. A man sneaked behind him, swinging his sword at Missio. Missio turned his head. Fear overtook as he dodged the sword. He swiftly spun around, drawing a deep breath.
He thrust his sword. The man tried to evade but the blade still stabbed through his side. Missio's pupils dilated. He exerted force on his weapon, cutting the man in half. Both halves fell to the ground. Missio panted, covering his mouth in disgust. Puke rose in his body yet he pushed it down. He gulped, wiping sweat off his face. His side injury throbbed with pain but he ignored it. Suddenly, a spear struck him from behind. It pierced through Missio's shoulder.
He gritted his teeth, being pushed forward. The spear pulled back. Missio covered his shoulder, the sounds of war echoing around him.
Above the war entirely, three men watched Missio.
"Your little brother's got innate talent for this, Dante." Bellum commented.
"I figured that two months ago." Dante chuckled.
"I mean look at him, he's not doing good but for experiencing a war simulation for the first time, he's performing above average." Bellum spread his arms.
"Are you sure this isn't gonna trigger his trauma?" Victor inquired worriedly.
"Nah." Dante shook his head. "But if it does, I'll do something."
"He already got stabbed because of his trauma. I don't think he's stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice." Bellum said.
"I am worried for him though. This type of environment is too similar to the Gamma rift incident." Victor looked at Missio.
"Stop worrying so much, my man." Dante wrapped his arm around Victor's shoulder. "He's become stronger. Trust him."
Victor heaved a sigh, watching Missio.
Missio entered a trance – another wave of déjà vu washing over him. At that exact instant, he entered a trance. He slashed many enemies at once, entering Form 5 – Persistence. He cut one enemy down with a diagonal slash. He spun around, swinging again. A smile tugged at his lips as he struck another enemy down. He danced around the battle, bathing his blade in blood. For a moment, it seemed as if he had forgotten about his trauma.
Eventually, the battle ended. Missio sat atop a mountain of dead bodies, covered in bruises and cuts.
"Ah… He's getting it now…" Bellum chuckled. "We'll keep repeating this until you can survive without getting hurt."
"W-What…?" Missio's voice cracked.
The next instant, another blue light swept through the battlefield. His wounds were instantly healed. He returned back to the same position he was in the beginning. Another explosion rang out as soldiers swarmed past him.
'God dammit…'
Missio blocked the sound of the explosion and picked up a sword. He didn't falter for a moment. He entered Form 1, forming a path in his head. He transitioned into Stride, cutting down enemies one after another. He carefully traversed the battlefield, determined not to get hit like the last round. Nevertheless, a stray dagger stabbed his ankle. He gritted his teeth, accidentally biting his tongue.
He opened his mouth, breathing heavily. Saliva dripped down his tongue. He sensed a spear nearing him. He stepped to the side, its metal tip grazing his cheek. The pain in his mouth dissipated after a few seconds. He crouched, pulling the dagger out of his foot. He threw it away. Entering Form 3, he rushed at his opponents. He cut down two soldiers in a single motion. He raised his sword, blocking another man's blade.
His muscles began to grow tired. His grip loosened as he pushed another sword away. He continued on, panting as hot sweat dripped down his face. Minutes passed in a blur. Missio fell to the ground – light headed. He inhaled in a rapid manner, trying to catch his breath. His muscles had weakened to the point that he could no longer even pick up his sword. Bellum neared him, rubbing his chin.
"Are you tired after only two rounds? What a joke!" Bellum scoffed.
"It's… my… first time… shut… it." Missio replied in-between breaths.
"Then, get better." Bellum snapped his fingers.
The blue light returned the war to its previous state. Missio awoke in another nightmare. The same explosion resounded again as he impulsively lowered his body. He grasped his chest, drawing sharp breaths.
'I wanna sleep so bad…'
He lifted his head. His vision blurred, making him only see blurry sights of the men rushing past him. He inhaled heavily, blinking. He stood up, shakily. He seized the longsword on the ground. He shut his eyes.
'Even with Constans Fluxus Breathing, I'm still not conserving enough stamina… what do I do?'
He thought hard for a few moments before it eventually clicked. The memory of Bellum explaining Form 5 – Persistence resurfaced.
"Persistence is basically a way to make you more efficient and precise in your attack."
Constans Fluxus Breathing had only been a part of Form 5. It wasn't the entirety of it. His eyes widened as his caught his breath. A sudden realization washed over him. His feet pressed against the ground, rushing at the enemy. He swung at a man, cutting him down in a single strike. He began to be more precise and efficient. He pivoted on his left foot, using the motion of his swing. He spun around, slashing several more soldiers.
He pushed off the ground, decapitating another. His next attack was blocked by a spear. The man drew his lance and thrusted it again. Missio barely dodged it as the spear ripped his clothes. He raised his blade, slashing the man's wrist. The soldier screamed in pain as his hand was cut off. Missio ended his misery the next moment. The man's body fell cold to the floor. Missio wiped the blood off his face.
'It's not enough… I need to be more efficient.'
He tapped into the flow state once more. His subconscious took over his body, driving it forward with pure instincts. His conscious mind still worked, predicting attacks and noticing his enemy's reactions. As he killed more individuals, he wanted to push Persistence further.
'How can I do better…?'
Missio clicked his tongue as he side stepped another attack.
'I wish Bellum would tell me for God's sake…'
He thrust into another person's chest. He pierced his heart. He drew his blade as his adversary's body dropped. He wiped the sweat off his face.
'More efficient… more… even more…'
He fell into a deeper trance, adrenaline rushing through his body. His conscious pushed itself outward. He watched himself as if he were an outsider critiquing his technique. He firmly gripped his sword, drawing a sharp breath. His lungs filled with air as he raised his blade. He stepped forward, exhaling as he swung down. His sword tore open another man's body. The poor soul fell to the ground. Missio grinned widely as he realized his achievement.
'More downforce can be generated…'
He rushed forward again. He found another target. The man noticed Missio approaching and raised his shield. Missio's pupils dilated. He flashed to his side. The man's eyes widened. Missio placed his right foot in front and swung down. He precisely cut the soldier in half. The halves fell down in opposite directions.
"Yes… It works!" Missio burst into laughter, wiping the sweat off his face.
Bellum whistled above the battlefield.
"Looks like he finally understands it…" He commented.