Born A Soldier (Reader X Herobrine)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Pap pan pap pap pap, PAA!

     "There. Just like that. Do that for a whole minute." Herobrine tossed you the gloves as Sandrah turned to you with the punching pad, which is basically a shield but made with foam. You strapped on the sweaty gloves and tightened your fingers into a pair of strong fists.

     Herobrine started counting in his head as you began, punching at the bag with intense speed, not letting your arms drop for a second. "ts ts ts ts ts ts ts!" You breathed out quick breaths with every punch, occasionally gulping a new breath of air. Sandrah meanwhile meandered over the padded floors, forcing you to follow or back away from your target as you punched. Hero stood stiffly as he watched, hands folded behind his back. All three of you were already tired and sweaty from the several hours worth of training and physical strain. You pushed through, even though you were nearing your limits. Sandrah had met hers a while ago, earning her the spot of bag holder.

     Your fists swung with intense speed, flaring pain engulfing each and every muscle involved. Even those around your hips and stomach were strained by your fast movements. But, your punches remained strong. It took a lot for Sandrah just to hold herself up against you.

     "Time." Hero's mouth opened at last. So in the zone, you continued a few times after until Sandrah made a daring move and dove away from you. Panting and covered in sweat, your eyes wandered up to the man only wearing black shorts and a sweaty teal tank-top. Hero stood proudly with his hands on his hips as he smiled faintly down at you. "Good job, (Y/n).." He complimented. You could only pant and gulp on dry air. "Alright... That will be enough for today. You ladies go and clean yourselves up."

     "But what about you??" Sandrah asked over your shoulder, sounding a little concerned for him for some reason. Herobrine chuckled at the blond.

     "I will be in here just a little longer. 303 is preparing dinner for everyone as we speak, so I suggest you two hurry up." He waved the two of you away, turning to step even further into the large room. It was a warehouse-like room dedicated to combat training! Literally anything you might need, from punching bags to gymnastics bars were all readily available in the room covered wall to wall in thick padding. The pillars holding up the high ceiling were all rectangular concrete. This was still all in 303's castle, believe it or not.

     You followed the reluctant Sandrah out of the room into a much shinier, fancier hall. But Herobrine remained inside.

Crack!

     "Aghh..." You heard him groan from inside. Sandrah was already talking to one of the butlers when you froze and curiously turned back towards the room. You peeked through the doorway to see Herobrine finally practicing against something nearer his level.

Crack!

     Hero slammed his fist into a massive cinder block made of solid concrete. It had only taken a couple punches and already his knuckles were filling with red under his skin. A brow of yours rose. The man eagerly accepted this challenge, punching it again and again and again and again. Each time, a faint growl or huff was pushed out from his lungs. Slowly, the cinder block gave way under his might. Equally challenged by the contact, Herobrine's uncovered fists began cutting open, bleeding, stinging when struck again and again and burnt by the sweeping wind.

     "YYAAAAHHHHH!!!" Herobrine shouted, determined not to break before the cinder block. But then-

Crack!

     This time, it wasn't the concrete which broke. "AGHH!" He screamed. You cringed away from the sight. Hero's left fist had planted itself against the stone improperly and paid for it dearly. His arm recoiled, carefully clutching the injured limb close to his chest as still his right fist collided with rock, more frantic and rage filled this time. He was utterly determined, the blow to his bones taken as a blow to his own ego as well. At last, the cinder block crumbled away, leaving the man panting, right fist especially absolutely shredded! You had just stood watching silently, not even knowing if intervening would be a good thing.