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The redhead stepped up to a spring-loaded bag, the wrapped hand coming back and slapping the bag at the very center. Dust billowed in the sudden quake. The fighter stepped back, leaping upward and slamming both feet into the bag, Doc Martens thudding against the rubber to leather contact. Instead of falling to the floor, her body curled and rolled once until she came to a kneeling halt. Looking upward through the curtain of vibrant hues of red and orange, she pushed forth a flux of energy. It was typical for paralysis but only working with the Wrestling style, and the grip techniques at that. Just as the wave was pushed out, it recoiled and she stood, disrupting the skill and learning a new one all together. Straightening up, cadaverous digits stroked the tailored leather pants and flicked off the water that trailed from her boots, to the bag, and then on to the black pillars. No matter. After a few seconds she turned her back to the training mannequin, her elbow shifting and driving right into the bag once, twice, thrice, until she switched arms.
[stage 1 learned]

Red pivoted, knuckles rapping against the bag to continue the warm up, there was no real force but that of her own strength. Yet, she continued the ruthless onslaught of punches, one after the other until the pallid pallor had spots of plum where contact was met. She unhooked the bag and watched as it fell to the floor with a- thump! Of course, it would not remain there for long as she scooped it up and straightened as it sat on its butt. She would only have so long before it would topple over again, so before her left let go of the top, she made herself ready for the next skill. Both arms encompassed the bag, locking and tightening, then swiftly she leaned backwards. Normally the victim caught in the lock would slam their head or neck against the ground, but instead she let it go, the force sending it an arc. The bag bounced once and dropped, it was dead weight anyway.

While the next technique did not require the bag to be loose, there was no point in leaving it for someone else to gather up. Instead, she rehung it. Chains clanking against the other and it would sway for the time being. Red turned her attention to a dummy. Its arms wrapped in foam padding, every so often it hid a spring for optimized movement. Which was certainly more life like with out the causalities. It; however, would find itself on the ground, same as the bag previously had. Only, she did not let it slam into the hardwood flooring to leave ugly dings and dents. The Feral eased it down and pulled it to the middle of her area. Red lowered to the ground and positioned herself, legs, pulling the dummy's 'arm' back as her own hands twisted it. Normally this would cause them to snap or even minor damage of a fraction. Either way it was extremely painful and did some work on the muscle. She would switch, work the other side and programmed herself to execute it correctly every time, as if the skill was engraved into her brain and her body only reacted accordingly. The dummy would find itself back into position, not so much as a scratch or any indication it had been moved.
[Stage 2 learned]

She would leave the room, exiting to the court yard to resume training. This required plenty of space and natural elements. The woman stood in the center as ice and slabs of compacted mud, debris, and stone were raised upward. Higher and higher the walls came forth until they were almost as tall as her. Crimson orbs looked skyward, a smile toying with her lips. Falling from the sky was dozens of steel chairs, most clattering to the ground in hard thunks. She even picked up one and used it to break down the ring. The metal cutting into the muck, splattering it off in other directions until both finally dispersed and it looked as if nothing had happened. Afterwards she would tread back inside, making sure to knock off the dirt that had clung to the contours of rubber soles. It crumbled and fell away in her wake. Again, she found herself in the same room as before.

Venturing to another dummy, her arm extended to slam against the neck area. The head bobbled and body groaned in response, it did not stop though as Red did it once again only using the other arm to clothesline the padding. Though, the poor dummy was moved back to the center and she would leap into the rafters. Perched on high, a froggy style where her hands rested on the timber and legs were bent until the knee almost reached her ears. Twin bloody pools stared down at the laying dummy, her head tilted, fingers pushing back the long tresses, weaving and knotting until it was pulled into a bun that crowned her. Then she would jump, extending her body as gravity forced her groundward and allowed the connection of her attack. Her body slamming into the plush doll, the impact would be entirely different for a victim of the skill and she felt no pain, so it didn't matter at all to her. As this stage came to an end, the area would be cleaned up and fixated to its norm.
[Stage 3 learned]

For the rest of the skills and stages she used the book and read the techniques. It was easier since her sparring partner wasn't here right now and he was the only one able to take the hit without it doing a damn thing to mar his skin. Probably because Diabolus was hard ******** to go up against. There Red sat, book opened and laid on top of the criss-cross of her fashioned legs. The pages were both well written and displayed proper formations of each skill. One such was used to grab a hold of the opponents leg and arm and hoist them onto the users shoulders, then with the heat of momentum, the user and target drop backwards. Smashing the target into the ground and the user on top. The other on the same page was a pretty simple idea, you tag team with a familiar, or comrade. You slap hands and switch out. This sends the other to the adjacent side of the ring, which is fine when it comes to multiple opponents.
[Stage 4 learned]

Spear was simple, charge up enough energy and send yourself spiraling forward with haste. You slam into a target's stomach with a shoulder, this will knock the wind out of them. It isn't so much the take down but the speed that is key, it gives the user a great distance to cross within seconds. The next interested far more than the last. It was a technique to choke the victim. Lifting them up off the ground as if a noose clings to their neck. It would be painful, their brain overloaded from the lack of oxygen, they'd wriggle and worm until they are slammed to the ground onto their back. This leaves them with a nasty concussion and gasping for air.

Next was an attack of using the opponents legs, placing them on your shoulders and while you allow yourself to drop downwards, you also pull them back into a whiplash effect. This sends them over head and aimed straight for the ground. Most likely to kill them, if not, it would knock their candyass out for a long while. Probably with a crack skull, leaking rich ichor like no other since the skin over the skull is thin. With enough speed and surely with a large amount of strength, this can be accomplished. Lastly were her class' specialty skills. One intended for her to interlock both hands and raise them over head. The attack would happen as they came down and smashed into the moron that was dumb enough to get in the way. Finally, yes, the mother load of skills, a better cage creation! Red grinned, teeth seizing a lush bottom lip as she read on. On top of the walls, this formed a cage over the already established ring. It could be barbed even, or locking a target inside with the only escape being a small door..making them fall right into a trap. Unless of course they use an s-rank skill to break it. With that, she closed the book and sat it back up on the shelf only to pull down another.
[Stage 5 learned and Wrestling Mastered]

She gathered herself to the middle of the floor, fashioning into a meditative state with crossing legs and her palms facing upward. Her eyes shut if only to tune out the world for a minute, that was all she would need. When she opened them again, the once red irises were flickering with gold. This was not a normal sight but something other, it was clarity. There was much more laying behind those honey-hued eyes. The black energy infusing with another kind, a tawny colour that was neither her own or a former but something else entirely. The Feral's body took on a glimmer, a coating of halcyon armor that sheathed her flesh and donned her something similar to iron. Her ravenous claws dripped with the auric energy, a deadly combination for those of the unholy nature.

Her long sword that was strapped to her back , even within the holster, began to glow, radiating an illuminating aura of good, purity...something that she was not. Still, pulling it from its sheath did not demolish the light that imbued it. Snapping it back in, she resumed the meditative stance. Praying palms Heavenward, their energy swirling and whirling until the smokey fog created a blade of holy energy. It mimicked that of her own blade but it was see-through. Her right hand slid around the hilt and held it, gripping tightly as it was lifted up into the air and then dissipated just as suddenly. The same hand extended upwards, a large sphere gathered. Turing on its axis over and over again, each rotation picking up more flux before it was released and extended its aura through out the room. In any darkness it would still light the way. The ball was suspended there, slowly turning until it too disappeared into the nothingness of ash.

Just as before, once again she was back to the same position. Lashes lay against pale cheeks, she did not inhale...there was no quake in her chest. There was nothing. A stillness that acted as both a blessing and a curse. In this she found a resolve. That same span of calamity burst forth around her, filling up the area and cleansing it of the debauchery and any passive skills sustained. They'd all be gone, wiped clean as if on a slate. Dust to dust, as they say. Slowly but surely the same rippling wave was called back, ebbing in long strides until it seeped beneath her dead flesh. Red began to focus, steadying herself as if to inflict some type of impenetrable force on another, yet there was no one there, but still, like slinking tendrils it pushed forth from the dark confines and then back again.

There were only a few more skills for her to practice, one being a heal. She already had an option for that because of her class but one more wouldn't hurt. It would only fixate on the smaller, less lethal damage done to the body but it was far more efficient in battle than mediating, there was just not time for that. The other was another aura, only this one was for the truth. When lies upon lies were all that were being fed, this cut the bullshit in twain. It was a great counter measure for interrogation and questioning, not that she really asked questions...no, she definitely ripped off body parts and then asked. It was better that way. This one seemed to be on the rational side of usage.

[Learned: Clarity, Armor of Light, Holy Light, Blessing : Righteous Blade, Holy Weapon, Divine Light, Resolve, Cleanse Area, Falter, Minor Heal, Aura of Truth. ]

Pretty much...everything was almost tied up. The last was much easier than anything before this pivotal moment. She felt a breath gathering inside of her and as it continued to climb from the pale pillar and hissed from her lips...instead of the normal toxic breath, it was fire. A torrent of flames billowing from the now red tinted lips that glistened. The Feral did it again, this time extending it out further until she drew back, smirking triumphantly.

[Spitfire Learned]