Scarlet didn’t begin by explaining posture, breathing, or any of those basics that usually come before someone even touches a weapon. She stood still for a few seconds, observing Victor with a more analytical gaze than usual, as if assessing not how much he already knew, but how much he was willing to give up.

The courtyard was silent at that moment, the ground still marked by previous training sessions, and some surrounding trees serving as unwitting witnesses to what had been happening there in recent days.

Victor still carried the constant weight of increased gravity on his body, but he no longer showed the same discomfort as before, which only made the situation stranger to observe for anyone unaccustomed to it.

"I don’t fight like Serafall, and I don’t fight like Carmilla either," Scarlet began, finally, bluntly, keeping her arms crossed while tilting her head slightly.

"What you’ve seen so far... that was the basics. That was control, adaptation, reading. This isn’t that." Her tone wasn’t arrogant, but she also didn’t try to soften what she was saying. It was direct. Raw. As if she were making it clear that what was to come had nothing to do with refined technique in the traditional sense.

Victor didn’t interrupt. He just stared.

Scarlet slowly uncrossed her arms, taking a few steps forward as she continued speaking.

"The type of fighting I follow is instinctive. Not in the sense of being uncontrolled... but in the sense of not depending on conscious thought during execution. You don’t calculate every strike. You don’t analyze every movement. You respond. Your body responds before your mind finishes understanding what’s happening."

She stopped a few meters from him, now with a more relaxed posture, but still carrying that heavy presence that never completely disappeared.

"The focus isn’t on winning through clean precision. It’s not on pretty cuts. It’s not on aesthetic efficiency." She made a small gesture with her hand, as if dismissing the idea. "The focus is on tearing apart. Strength. Speed. Impact. You don’t just want to hit the target... you want to destroy it the moment of contact."

Victor narrowed his eyes slightly, absorbing it.

Scarlet noticed.

"This has a name," she continued, now with a slight smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. "I call it ’Crimson Rupture’." She left the name hanging in the air for a second, as if she wanted him to understand the weight behind it before continuing. "It’s not a technique in the traditional sense. It’s a combat concept. A way of acting. If you try to apply this as a rigid style... you fail."

Victor let out a small "hm," still without looking away.

"And before you think about using blood weaponry to train this," Scarlet added, already anticipating, "don’t do that now." She turned slightly, picking up something beside her without looking directly, and then threw a sword toward him with a simple movement.

Victor caught it reflexively.

The impact was light, but solid enough to make it clear that this was different from what he had been using until now.

"Your blood weapon is still too unstable," Scarlet said. "If you try to apply force and speed at this level with it... it will fall apart before you complete the movement. You need something that can hold up while you learn the concept."

Victor looked at the sword in his hands. It was simple. Common steel. Nothing special.

"...So this is just for training," he commented.

"Exactly," Scarlet replied. "When you can maintain the intention without losing the structure... then we go back to blood."

She took a few steps to the side, positioning herself in front of one of the nearby trees, which already bore some marks from previous training. It wasn’t small, nor fragile, and definitely didn’t look like something that would be easily destroyed.

"Pay attention," she said.

There was no long preparation.

No exaggerated posture.

No clear warning.

Scarlet simply moved.

It was quick.

But not in the sense of disappearing or creating an impossible-to-follow blur. It was direct. A short advance, an almost imperceptible body turn, and then—

A cut.

But it didn’t look like a cut.

It looked like an impact.

The bloody blade that appeared on her hand wasn’t refined, it didn’t have that clean look one would expect from a well-formed weapon. It was dense. Unstable. It pulsed slightly, as if it were alive, reacting along with her movement.

The blow struck the tree.

And for a second—

Nothing happened.

Victor blinked.

Then the sound came.

It wasn’t the sound of wood being cleanly cut.

It was the sound of something being ripped apart.

Broken.

Destroyed.

The tree didn’t split into two neat pieces. There wasn’t a defined cut line. Instead, the trunk simply collapsed in multiple directions at once, as if the impact had pierced the entire structure and exploded it from the inside. Wood splinters flew everywhere, jagged pieces falling to the ground with a dry thud, while the remaining base looked more crushed than severed.

When the movement ended, what remained of the tree didn’t look like it had been attacked by a blade.

It looked like it had been torn apart.

Scarlet stood still for a second, looking at the result without any expression of pride or surprise.

Then she turned back to Victor.

"That’s the basics," she said, as if it were commonplace.

Victor stared at the tree remains for a few seconds, processing what he had just seen.

"...That wasn’t just strength," he commented.

"No," Scarlet replied. "It was intention applied correctly." She pointed slightly at him with her chin. "If you only use strength... you cut. If you only use speed... you hit quickly. But if you combine the two with the intention to destroy... you go beyond that."

She began to walk slowly back toward him, keeping her gaze fixed.

"The most common mistake is trying to control too much," she continued. "You think you need to guide the strike to the end, ensure the perfect angle, adjust mid-movement. That only delays. That breaks the flow."

She stopped in front of him.

"The ’Crimson Rupture’ doesn’t wait for confirmation. When you decide to attack... the attack has already happened. The body executes without hesitation."

Victor twirled the sword slightly in his hand, testing its weight, its balance. "...And what if I mess up?" he asked.

Scarlet gave a small smile.

"Then you correct it in the next move," she replied. "But you don’t stop halfway."

She took a step back, making space.

"Now try," she said.

Victor didn’t answer immediately.

He looked once more at the destroyed tree, then at the sword in his own hand, and then back at Scarlet.

"...Just repeating this won’t work," he commented.

Scarlet nodded.

"Obviously not," she said. "If you try to copy... it’ll be a worse version. You need to understand the why before you try the how."

Victor took a deep breath once, adjusting his posture slightly.

His body was already accustomed to the absurd pressure of gravity at that point, which made his movement heavier than it should be, but at the same time more stable.

He took a step forward.

Another.

And then—

He attacked.

The movement was quick, but clearly more controlled than Scarlet’s. The blade cut through the air with precision, striking what remained of the tree trunk.

The sound was dry.

Clean.

A cut.

Nothing exploded.

Nothing collapsed.

The wood split in a normal way, falling into a relatively uniform piece.

Victor stood still for a second, looking at the result.

"...I cut it," he said.

Scarlet didn’t react immediately.

"...You cut it," he confirmed.

A short silence.

"But you didn’t destroy it," he added.

Victor let out a small sigh through his nose.

"So that’s it," he murmured.

Scarlet crossed her arms again.

"You’re still overthinking it," she said. "It shows in the movement. You decided on the strike... and then tried to make sure it was right. That doesn’t work here."

Victor looked at the sword again. "So it’s just... going?" she asked. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"It’s not ’just’," she replied. "But it’s closer to that than what you just did."

She tilted her head slightly.

"You don’t trust the impact yet. You still want to control the outcome before it happens."

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

Then he took another deep breath.

This time, when he moved, it was different.

Not faster.

But less hesitant.

The step was more direct, his body following without that constant micro-adjustment that came before.

The blow came immediately afterward.

Heavier.

Less refined.

The blade struck the target—

And this time the sound changed.

It wasn’t like Scarlet’s.

Not even close.

But it wasn’t clean either.

The wood gave way unevenly, cracking beyond the point of impact, creating fissures that spread before breaking completely.

Victor stopped.

He looked.

Scarlet uncrossed her arms.

"...Better," she said.

It wasn’t a compliment.

But it wasn’t criticism either.

It was an observation.

Victor slightly twisted his shoulder, feeling the impact reverberate through his arm.

"...I understand the direction," he commented.

Scarlet nodded.

"Great," she said. "Because you’re going to repeat this until you stop thinking while you do it."

She turned around, already moving away a little.

"You have five days until gravity increases again," she added. "By then, you’ll start to understand what it really means to hit something... instead of just cutting it."

Victor looked at the sword once more.

Then at what remained of the tree.

And then he positioned himself again.

Without saying anything.

And attacked again.