Disciple
"Easy there," a calm voice interrupted his thoughts. Lucas turned to see Yato sitting in a corner of the room, a steaming cup in hand.
"You have an impressive ability to take a hit. Most would have been knocked out cold, but you managed to stay conscious," Yato remarked, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and approval.
Lucas rubbed his head, still feeling the lingering effects of the punch. "Where am I?"
"In the infirmary. You took quite a beating during our spar," Yato replied, sipping from the cup. "But don't worry, you'll recover."
Lucas sighed, recalling the events leading up to that punch. "I guess I still have a long way to go."
Yato nodded, his expression serious. "True, but the fact that you pushed yourself to the limit is a testament to your determination. You're more resilient than you give yourself credit for."
"Sir, why did you choose to spar with me? And why go all out?" Lucas asked, curiosity lacing his words.