Just as her kitchen materialized around her, Seraphis sighed and turned to look at her disciples. "Okay I am confused, are you really an idiot or are you just faking it?" She paused for a brief second, "Oh wait, what am I even asking, of course, you are an idiot."
Judge looked at the rambling phoenix, he was confused enough for the confusion to be visible on his face. "Where did that pop up from?"
"First, let me get this clear— you can imagine whatever you want into existence inside that place right?"
"Which means, you can do whatever you need inside this— err... studio."
"As long as it does not hurt the guest, yes" Judge then went into a dilemma, what does it mean to attack the summoned person? There was clearly no restriction from the side of the studio when I was attacking my master.
Seraphis raised an eyebrow, "You clearly TRIED to attack me in there, are you sure about the restrictions?"
No, I am not! He wanted to say that, but it was better to hold back on some things. "Hmm..." He took up his thinking position of pinching his chin in order to let his master know that he was thinking.
When I think about it, I have actually checked the backside of the scrolls that Clio gave me on my first try, but she said as if I had not checked it— which I believed to be true because I did not pay much attention and did not remember checking it.
There was nothing on the back side, which meant the information that she gave me afterward was just the extended info about skills that were not present on the scrolls. This means just one thing— Clio did not give me the full details about skills, and she even gave me the wrong info about Studio, who knows if the info was correct about the rest? Wait!
The wording! The scroll did not say that I 'cannot attack people I summon', It says I 'cannot hurt people I summon'. There is a huge difference, this means the people who enter have to be in the condition they entered or better when they leave— I can attack and even kill, but I have to resurrect and make sure they are in the same condition that they entered in... or better.
"Master," Judge looked up and stopped pinching his chin.
"Yes," Seraphis answered as if she was waiting.
He suddenly laughed, the self-deprecating laugh he did whenever he felt helpless and played by fate, "I sure am an idiot."
Seraphis audibly smirked, "And you are telling me you just thought of that NOW?"
Amber was standing in a familiar yet unknown training ground. The place looked the same, but the air felt colder. She was wearing a tight black pant and high leather boots, a white shirt with a black jacket over it, and a white cravat embedded with a green gem.
She was holding a dark scythe, it was red but an extremely dark red that it could be mistaken for black. Holding the blade that did not shine forward with her right hand, she stood sideways and faced in the direction of the blade.
There stood another woman, her belly was exposed and she wore a blue full-sleeve dress over her chest which covered her neck. There was a necklace over it with a white heart-shaped stone, she wore a black pant and shoes. Her dark hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, and her ocean-blue eyes watched the scythe that amber held.
"Let's start," the woman said in a more aged voice that did not match her figure.
Amber nodded and leaned in slightly, ready for the next move and on her guard for attacks, "I am in your care, master."
Her heart was pounding as she clenched the scythe tight. Her "master" took a step forward, and the whole training grounds groaned under her presence. Amber breathed out slowly, took her stance lower, and waited for the clash.
The woman stretched out her arm, her finger started to pulse and emitted a faint blue light. The air seemed to shimmer around her like the surface of a disturbed lake. Amber darted to the side, her boots sliding on the frosty ground, narrowly avoiding an invisible force that carved a clean groove where she had stood.
"You have speed," the master said coolly, her tone almost bored. "But speed alone won't save you."
Amber lunged forward, her scythe spinning in a tight arc. The dark-red blade sang like a song of death whizzing through the air, straight for the torso of her opponent. But the master shifted effortlessly, her movements so precise that it was as if she knew the strike before Amber made it.
A hair's breadth from the blade. Amber's eyes went wide as the woman countered instantly, twisting her body to deliver a spinning kick. Amber brought up the shaft of her scythe just in time to block, the force of the impact sending her sliding backward.
"Rather impressive block," the master said, her voice carrying a hint of approval. "But you must do better than that."
Amber clamped her teeth together, pushing her boots into the ground for balance. She swung the scythe behind her, hewing arcs of crimson in the air. She again charged, feinting hard left, then twisting all of her body to the right, swinging the scythe into a slashing diagonal chop.
Her master did not flinch. She merely raised her glowing fingers, meeting the blade's edge. Sparks burst forth, the sound of ether grinding against metal ringing like a chime of war. Amber pushed harder, forcing all her strength into the attack.
"Good," the master said, her aged voice steady. "But strength without control is like a storm without rain."
She flicked her fingers and the scythe jerked away like it was struck by an unseen hammer. Amber staggered but spun with the momentum, using the motion to launch a sweeping kick. This time, she connected, her boot brushing the edge of the master's dress.
"Better." The master slid back a step, almost unaffected.
Amber wasted no time. She swung the scythe horizontally, aimed low, forcing the master to leap. As she soared she flipped the weapon, thrusting the blade upward like a spear.
The master's eyes gleamed bright with an approval as she twisted mid-air and barely missed the thrust. She landed graciously, her glowing hand reaching for Amber. A wave of blue energy surged toward Amber like a tidal wave.
Amber plunged the scythe into the ground, and the dark red metal hummed as it caught the impact of the blow. Ice crept up the blade and down toward her hands.
"This is what I want to see," the master said, her smile thin and enigmatic.
Amber roared and pushed forward, shattering the ice with sheer will. She spun the scythe in a deadly dance, her strikes becoming faster, more unpredictable. Horizontal sweeps, vertical slashes, thrusts— all aimed to corner her opponent.
But the master moved like water, flowing around every attack. She parried with her hands, redirecting Amber's strikes, deflecting the blade by mere inches.
"You lean too much on the scythe," the master said. "It's an extension of you, not a crutch."
Amber gritted her teeth, recognizing the truth in the words. She readjusted her grip, turning the weapon so the dull end led. She swung with raw force-the shaft aiming for her master's legs.
The master sidestepped but didn't expect Amber to let go of the scythe. It flew past her, embedding itself in the ground. Amber lunged barehanded, and her fist pulsed faintly with a red color.
The punch connected to her master's fist that pulsed with a blue color, the impact caused shockwaves that ripped the ground and created a crater where they stood.
For the first time, a faint smirk crept up onto the master's face. "Well done."
Amber didn't hesitate. She turned around, swinging a backhand strike with her elbow. The master caught it fluidly, twisted Amber's arm around, and pinned her to a lock.
But Amber was prepared. She wrenched her whole body and came free from the hold, throwing out a spinning kick.
The master caught her foot mid-air, holding it tight. "You're learning."
Amber panted, sweat dripping from her brow. She held her arm towards her scythe, and the scythe hummed behind her, responding to her call. It pulled itself from the ground and flew toward her. Amber caught it mid-swing, the blade burning with renewed energy.
With a roar, she brought it down, forcing her master to use both hands to block the strike. This time, the impact forced the master back several paces.
"Enough," the master finally said, lowering her hands.
Amber froze, her scythe hovering mid-swing.
The master nodded, a rare smile gracing her lips. "You've passed, for now."
Amber straightened, her chest heaved as she caught her breath. She wiped the sweat from her brow and offered a slight bow.
"Thank you, master," she said, her voice trembling with exhaustion and gratitude.