"...What's that look for?" Sol asked.
He smiled, "How about some sparring?"
Sol seemed hesitant, almost instantly moving his lips to say "No" but stopped himself and begrudgingly nodded.
With that, the two left the room and headed to the basement, where they would be able to train without making noise that would alert prowling entities on the streets.
Once they were in the dank, barely lit room that was filled with old, discarded crates of booze and grime, they equipped the wooden versions of their weapons.
"I guess…It has been helpful, honestly. And I need it," Sol said.
"Mhm," he straightened his coat and tightened his gauntlets, "If anything, it's going to help you become less scared of being hit."
He playfully flipped the wooden daggers in his hands as he stood several meters across from Sol, who hesitantly readied his wood spear as well.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Sol gulped.
He bounced on his toes for a moment, shaking to loosen up his body, "Alright–it'll end whenever one of us is knocked to the ground! Go!"
The moment he instructed the start of their sparring match, he sprung forward with swiftness that immediately took Sol by surprise, who brought his spear up and blocked a swipe of the wooden dagger.
"Come on! You've got to start countering that! You always fall for it!" He said with a smile, slashing his wooden weapons against the shield-like spear.
Sol backpedaled while blocking the attacks, already sweating, "--I know! It's just…! Ngh!"
As he swiped his wooden daggers around swiftly, he watched Sol closely, analyzing how he reacted to being put on the defensive from his flurry.
He's too scared of combat. Part of that is the fear of being hurt–it's something we all have, but in this hell, it's something we got over a long time ago. Still, Sol is holding onto it. I have to break that, he thought.
It was clear that with his swift set of attacks, Sol was really getting nowhere, prompting him to give him some leniency and kick him back before jumping away to bring them back to neutral stances.
"...Huff…" Sol breathed out, clutching his pale-wood training spear.
"Come on–you come at me this time," he said, gesturing for him to come.
Sol gulped, "I don't know, Jeong-Hui…"
"Come on!" He urged again.
It took multiple pushes for somebody as entrenched in their own pits of self-doubt as Sol to finally take the initiative, but he finally convinced the red bandana-wearing spearman as he watched Sol rush over this time.
Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh.
Multiple jabs of the edgeless spear came towards him, piercing through the air as he bobbed his head to avoid being hit by the spear tip.
It wasn't half-bad training for himself, either. While sparring with Korain or Yeong-Un lended itself to more intense, boorish combat, when it was against Sol, it was a lot more manageable for him and allowed himself to pick-and-choose what specifically he wanted to hone.
This time, he focused on sharpening his reflexes further and his more minimal evasions while Sol repeatedly thrust the weapon towards him.
Without using his weapons to block or deflect the spear, he kept his hands down by his sides while moving out of the way with just movements of his head and swift footwork.
"Ngh…!"
This, in fact, spurred a rare sense of frustration in Sol, who while trying to improve himself was watching his friend treat this as nothing but casual practice.
…I'll show you! Sol thought.
With a bit more motivation flooding through his veins, the hazel-haired young man sharpened his amber eyes before stomping forward, spinning his weapon around before launching a flurry of a dozen thrusts over a single second.
"--!"
So fast, so sudden! He thought.
He was forced to lift his wooden daggers to combat the spear now, deflecting it and opting for more complex evasions as he flipped backward–resetting the momentum as the two squared off.
"Finally lit a fire under your ass?" He asked.
Sol breathed out with a focused smile, "Guess so."
With that resolve noticed, he opted to stop half-assing things and take Sol more seriously now–taking the initiative with a quick burst forward.
This time, as he swiped his right-held dagger towards Sol's side, it was blocked by the lower end of the wooden spear before the hazel-haired spearman countered by thrusting his weapon forward quickly.
Took you long enough, he thought with a smile.
Shifting his weight as he pivoted off of his left foot, he flipped right over the tip of the spear seamlessly before retaliating with a strike of his wooden dagger straight to the side of Sol's neck.
"Yowch!" Sol winced.
"Don't stop and think about the pain! Keep going!" He reminded him.
He didn't let up; this was the pivotal point in which Sol required to be pushed the most–he knew that, yelling such words out as Sol stopped himself from caressing his reddened neck and continued the clash.
In sparring, three things were made clear: don't use real weapons and don't strike hard enough to inflict any real damage, and–don't use skills.
This made bouts like this purely reliant on physical prowess and finesse.
While Sol rapidly jabbed his spear forward at increased speeds, the frizzy-haired assassin weaved through them and landed a counter by striking Sol in the abdomen with both daggers.
"Gh-!" Sol spat out his breath.
"--You need to take more initiative than this," he instructed him.
Sol rubbed his stomach, "It's just sparring, dude…"
"Why do you think we're doing this? Chances are, what's waiting at the Tower for us is an even bigger fight than we've gone through already," he told Sol, "Do you want to be stuck like this while you're there?"
"--"
He sighed out, looking directly at him, "Do you want to be a burden?"
"--"
Those last words seemed to strike something within Sol as he stood himself up straight, wielding his spear in both hands.
Seeing his wordless confirmation to continue, he readied himself as well, "Alright–let's do this."
To his surprise, it was Sol who dashed forward this time, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye before he was forced to spin to the left to avoid being struck by a heavy thrust of the spear.
It's easy to forget, but–he's fast. Call it his natural affinity to run away, but Sol's agility isn't too far below mine, in pure stats, he thought.
It felt like a true contest now; with Sol locked into actually putting effort through, he moved with finesse unseen previously–properly utilizing his footing to accentuate his assault while jabbing his weapon forward with air-piercing blows.
He countered with an elbow directly to Sol's chest, but it was a move made out of pure reflex, not intending to launch it so hard as he watched Sol be knocked to the side.
"Ah–my bad," he said out of surprise.
By the time he had realized, Sol was already on the ground, holding his chest as he winced a bit to himself.
"Damn, dude…Harsh," Sol laughed.
He extended his hand down with a smile, "Sorry, just my instincts kicking in."
"All good," Sol said, accepting his hand as he was brought to his feet.
After finishing a surprisingly lively sparring session, the "day" began to come to a close. While there was no longer sunshine amidst the hell conquered world, swarmed with demons and Defects of Heaven alike, there was a stark difference between the crimson horizon and what the group referred to as the "Blind Night".
"We should head back up," he suggested.
He could see the faint light of the crimson horizon settling through the sparse space between the wooden planks used to barricade the basement window.
"Yeah…" Sol said, noticing the coming of the Blind Night as well.
Together, he traversed the creaky steps of the basement back to the main floor with Sol, returning to see Yeong-Un leaned against the door to the dank lower section.
"What's up?" He asked.
Yeong-Un hardly looked energetic, "I heard ya'. Sounds like things were gettin' fun."
"Fun isn't the word I'd use…Try 'painful'," Sol yawned.
He laughed a bit, placing his hands on Sol's shoulders from behind as the three of them marched towards their shared room, "We're getting there. You've improved a lot, Sol. Don't sell yourself short on that."
"It's hard when everytime we do this, I end up on my ass," Sol said with a playful sigh.
"Well, nobody said it was an overnight process," he cheekily smiled.
With the three of them getting to their room, they snuffed out all candles on their way in, and blew out the candle present in the room itself.
"...Total darkness again," Sol said quietly, lounging across the sofa in the dark space.
It had to be like this each night. With each set of the crimson horizon, the world was enveloped in absolute darkness. In such abundant shade, even the smallest semblance of light stood out like a beacon to those who crawled out from Hell; signal to the demons telling them "Humans are here"--simply, it was a foolish idea.