Crackle.
Morbia threw Kain over herself, crashing his back onto the hard, wooden floor. The slam echoed around the empty training room.
"Not good enough. I fought better at ten than you do now. Just a disgrace!" Morbia exclaimed as she kicked him.
At the last moment, Kain managed to put up a block, yet the impact threw him back.
Cold blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, bruises and sparse cuts covering his body. He looked worse than a chop.
A shadow fell over him, Morbia's intimidating gaze never leaving him for a second.
"What happened? It's been three days, but you've barely gotten better. What's the point of asking me for training if you're mediocre?"
Kain paid no attention to her words, rising slowly. He was used to this by now.
"Hah, isn't that the point of training? If I were as strong as you, I wouldn't be here. Moreover, you are exceptionally strong. Mere martial mentors can't compare to you."
