Ten thousand steps, one thousand left 5

Kyrie stood in the training room, his sparring partner at the other end of the room, a wide grin across her face, a face more in line with the angry and bloodthirsty gremlin he met at the Fairy Village not so long ago.

"I'm going to you to the bone. With that thing roaming around, you will need to become stronger. You can't slack off now," Maremalle said as two axes chained to her forearms appeared from thin air.

It was an interesting magic that reminded him of how Yraka's bag of holding used to work, drawing things out of thin air and impossibly large things from its insides. He envied such an ability because he lacked it, and couldn't as much as replicate it.

Maremalle stared deep inside his eyes, and Kyrie stared back at her, his "sword maiden" in hand, a fiery aura enveloped the bone-like sculpted sword, its edge glistened with a red tint. Maremalle stared back at him, her green eyes burned with a fiery passion for combat.