"What were you thinking?" Miranda asked as both she and Alicia walked home. Actually, they weren't walking home, but heading toward a long limousine instead. Being the typical young rich mistresses of wealthy households, Alicia and Miranda didn't have to use their legs and travel through the coarse roads like the rest of us commoners. Indeed, Miranda's attention was focused on one commoner right now. "Inviting someone like him to join the Black Roses?"
"I think he has potential," Alicia replied carefully. "If he learns how to protect himself…maybe if he picks up defensive and control spells, he should be able to survive long enough to summon whatever he wants to summon."
Miranda snorted. "If he's going to become a defensive or control mage, he might as well just focus on those. Why even bother with summoning at all?"
"…that's true. But I'm sure that with the right resources, he'll make it work."
Miranda scowled as she studied Alicia, who was still smiling gently for some reason. Something occurred to her.
"Alicia, don't tell me guys like him are your type?"
"Huh?" Alicia looked a little taken aback, and then she giggled. "No, what are you thinking? I do think he's nice, but I simply admire him for his tenacity and determination." Her expression turned a bit dreamy. "Over the past year, I've noticed that he's always the first in the library, and almost the last one out. Even though he has lost every single battle, he has not requested a change in class, and continues to study summoning. Don't you think that sort of dedication is impressive?"
"I think it borders on moronic," Miranda said with a huff. Alicia raised an eyebrow, but didn't take the bait.
"I disagree. With that amount of devotion, he'll definitely succeed in the end."
"If only he puts that dedication into other things." Miranda sighed. "I've studied his records – he doesn't seem to have much affinity with elemental magic, and his combat skills are mediocre. He does seem to have learned basic fighting techniques, but without infusing them with magic, there is no way he can compete with specialized combat mages."
"Hmm…so it will be easy for him to transfer over to the combat mages classes?" Alicia looked a little pleased. "That's where I am. Perhaps if he doesn't mind, I can guide him through those classes."
Miranda stared at her. "Why are you giving this loser so much of your attention? I'm pretty sure there are other classmates who are worthier of your time."
"I do. It's just that Richard is the one we ran into today." Alicia placed a finger on her lips and pondered. "Speaking of which, what do you think of Troy? It appears that he is moving up the ranks. He'll be due a promotion soon."
"Ah…yes. Troy is very promising. I'm not sure what he did, but he has massively improved over the last three months. I'm glad you had the foresight to invite him to join us." Miranda smiled. "He was always strong, but a little…unfriendly. I'm surprised he opened up to you."
"After what he experienced in New Texas, it was pretty hard for him to trust anyone." Alicia had a sympathetic look in her eyes. Then she smirked. "But I was right about Troy, wasn't I? So do you think I will be correct about Richard?"
"You!" Miranda seemed like she had a headache, massaging her forehead after Alicia's sudden riposte. "Are you secretly in love with Richard or something?"
"Even if I am, I don't think anyone has the right to complain about who I choose to love?" Alicia smiled mysteriously. Miranda could only gape at her for a moment before she shook her head.
"Sometimes I don't know if you're a genius or just insane."
*
I followed Dad to the dojo that took up the back of our house.
"All right, let's get ready." Dad took up a single bamboo sword that was propped up in a rack at the corner of a wall. "Your turn."
I glanced around the dojo, reveling in the familiar surroundings. I had spent the last five years here, being beaten up by Dad everyday. The walls were slightly falling apart, and the floor was basically tatami mats because Dad was an otaku obsessed with Japanese culture and wanted to replicate a Japanese dojo for some reason. Along one wall was a rack of bamboo swords, and along another wall was a row of targets for archery. The bows for archery were also placed in a second rack next to the one with bamboo swords.
Dad was the one who trained me in swordsmanship and a bit of archery. It was very different from combat magic or the "mystical martial arts" that combat mages learned in the academy (or in their respective clans).
"These combat skills have been passed down for thousands of years!" Dad had told me proudly when we first began five years ago. "The swordsmanship has been passed down from the era of Miyamoto Musashi!"
I later found out that he was deceived. The swordsmanship he learned was not from the Miyamoto School, but rather had a mix of Chinese and Japanese origin. It was only natural. So many centuries had passed, so all the different martial arts that were passed down for countless generations were created, lost, recreated, restored and transformed greatly from their original iterations.
One thing stood out though – unlike modern combat magic or mystical martial arts, these traditional martial arts did not make use of magic. They were just physical techniques that relied on honing the body, instincts and reflexes, but did not generate magical barriers or unleash those flashy magic or elemental blasts that modern magicians used regularly in actual combat.
Why am I even bothering to learn this? I wondered grumpily, my mind still half-absorbed in the summoning books I had just borrowed.
"Don't lose focus!"
"!"
I immediately jumped back when Dad's bamboo sword swung through the space where my head had been. Good thing I moved on instinct, or I would have suffered a painful bump on the top of my head.
"What are you doing?" I complained, retreating a few steps.
"I should be asking you that!" Dad retorted as he rested his bamboo sword on his shoulder. "Why are you daydreaming? The sparring started a while ago! Hurry up and pick your weapon!"
"Ah…"
I looked a little sheepish. Striding over to the rack, I picked up a pair of short bamboo swords and then turned to face Dad. Raising them in a defensive stance, I got ready.
Dad grinned. "Good!"
He then dashed forward, swinging his longer shinai. I intercepted his strike with the short bamboo sword in my left hand and delivered a thrust with the sword in my right.
"Naïve!"
Dad stepped back and avoided the thrust with a spin, and then twisted his sword to almost knock mine out of my hand. Realizing the danger, I intuitively withdrew and avoided a crack to my temple from Dad's vicious strike.
"Very good! You've improved!"
Dad closed in again, swinging with precise, controlled strikes. I parried and blocked with both my swords, sometimes crossing them to endure a particularly powerful hit, but most of the times I deflected and exchanged blows with my father. He pushed me all the way back to the wall, his bamboo sword pummeling me with what seemed like the force of a nature.
I briefly wondered how Dad would fare against combat mages. I was under the impression that even without magic, or even without summoning Angelica, he could still overpower them with just his swordsmanship alone.
However, I was far from done myself!
I delivered a feint to an opening that Dad deliberately revealed, and just as I expected, he countered with a backward swing to where my head would be. Fortunately, I had already anticipated that and using my footwork, I spun to his side where he seemed most vulnerable.
Today was the day I finally got to land a hit on Dad for the very first time!
However, before I could finish thrusting my sword, my instincts screamed danger. I was under the impression that a ferocious beast was glaring at me with bloodthirsty eyes. My surroundings seemed to melt away, swallowed up by an immense shadow.
Within just a single instance, my Dad seemed to embody the essence of death itself.
"!!!!"
I quickly aborted my attack and retreated, crossing my swords in reflex. And a good thing I did too, for Dad's bamboo sword clattered against my crossed wooden blades with such force I was actually hurled backward and smashed into the opposite wall.
"Gah!"
The wind was knocked out of me and I almost blacked out from the immense pain. Sliding down the cracked wall, I landed in a heap on the ground.
"Oh my God! Richard! Sorry!"
Dad hurried over to my side, abandoning his sword and checking on me with a concerned look on his face.
"I'm…all right."
Wheezing, I assured him. Dad grimaced and patted my head.
"Sorry about that. I acted subconsciously and accidentally used too much strength."
Bloody hell. Used too much strength? Was he a monster? And this was without using magic too! How the hell did he pull that off?!
No wonder he could establish a contract with an existence as otherworldly and powerful as Angelica.
"But man, you really improved!"
Dad looked extremely delighted as he helped me to my feet.
"That was an excellent move! You actually forced me to counter on reflex! That's the first time you made me lose a bit of my control!"
"A bit of your control?" I repeated incredulously. That was only a bit of his control?
"Ah ha ha ha, yeah…" Dad scratched his head sheepishly and patted me in the back. "Good job. I guess that's enough for today?"
Enough swordsmanship, that was for sure. Grimacing, I realized that I had landed next to the rack with bows and arrows.
Shaking my head, I returned the two wooden swords I had taken, and proceeded to retrieve a bow and a quiver of arrows.
"Mind if I practice a few shots before I retire for today?"
"No, of course not!" on the contrary, Dad looked pretty happy. He nodded in approval. "I'll stay and watch."
I was grateful to him for doing so. Dad often helped to appraise my archery and offer advice on how to improve my accuracy or my stance.
"Thanks."
Taking a deep breath, I made the necessary preparations, stood in front of the target that was a hundred meters away, and then fitted an arrow to my bow. Pulling the string back, I took aim, peering at the target through my glasses.
Then I released the arrow.