John entered the training hall, a wide smile adorning his face as he observed Dante standing in the center, wielding a wooden broadsword and swinging it skillfully to familiarize himself with the weapon.
"You're here," Dante remarked upon noticing John's arrival. "Come here, I should test how much you've improved in the past three months. After all, you'll be inheriting my sword," he continued, gesturing to the designated area on the training field with his weapon.
"Yes, sir," John replied, briskly making his way to the indicated spot and retrieving his own wooden falchion from his storage ring.
Once they assumed their positions, John infused a small amount of mana into the belts on his left arm, causing them to tighten securely. Sir Beaumont, who had been assisting Dante's training until John's arrival, blew a whistle, signaling the start of their duel.
For a tense 30 seconds, both combatants remained motionless, the chilly spring breeze serving as a fitting backdrop.
*Drip*
The silence was broken as John lunged forward upon hearing the sound of a single droplet of sweat hitting the ground.
Reacting swiftly, Dante shifted backward to create some distance, launching a kick toward John's head immediately after his blade missed its mark.
The strike narrowly missed, as John managed to jerk his head back at the last moment, narrowly evading the blow.
Unfortunately, his unconventional dodge left him off-balance, leaving an opening for Dante to capitalize on. Taking advantage of John's compromised posture, Dante pressed the attack, aiming straight for John's unsteady legs.
With a sweeping swing that harnessed the momentum from his previous movement, Dante slashed at John's knees, grazing the young prince's femur as he stumbled backward, struggling to regain his balance.
John quickly regained his composure, leaping back and assuming a ready stance, realizing that he needed to maintain an offensive strategy to have any chance against Dante, as losing the initiative would render him unable to land a hit.
"Fuck it," John cursed, releasing a soft sigh before propelling himself forward, narrowly dodging Dante's defensive slash. Coming to a halt just outside of Dante's striking range, John launched a kick toward Dante's momentarily unguarded head, causing him to flinch slightly. Though it wasn't enough to create a significant opening, Dante deftly adjusted his sword, using the momentum to evade the attack and counter with a strike aimed directly at John, who was still airborne.
"Nice one," Dante chuckled as his sword made contact.
*BAM*
The impact reverberated through the room, accompanied by a loud noise. It sent John hurtling through the air, but to Dante's surprise, he managed to rise to his feet.
"Wondering why I'm not as injured as you expected?" John taunted, a smirk forming on his face.
"No need. I have a hunch," Dante replied laughter in his voice.
What John had just executed was a daring move. As Dante's sword was about to connect, John pulled back his own blade, blocking the attack. However, just before impact, John released his grip on the sword, propelling it toward Dante. As a result, most of the damage was absorbed by the weapon itself, sparing John from the brunt of the blow. He only endured the force of a wide sword striking his body with its flat side, still painful but far less agonizing than the direct hit would have been.
"Huff, let's call it a day for now. I've seen what you're capable of, and pushing further would only waste training time," Dante declared, passing his sword to one of the knight squires present, who had been observing the spar with astonishment. After all, who would anticipate such remarkable combat skills from a young child of barely ten years old? No one. The answer was unequivocally no one, not even Sir Beaumont, whose expression mirrored the sheer shock of the onlookers.
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After an intense training session that lasted for about an hour and a half, John's session with Dante came to an end. The prince, drenched in sweat, reached for a flask of water handed to him by a squire, eagerly quenching his thirst and replenishing his energy. The weights on his cuffs had been increased, intensifying the training and pushing him to his limits.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, John sat beside Dante, wiping away the perspiration and observing his knights' regiment diligently training nearby.
Dante's military force was a well-oiled machine, meticulously organized under his command. With a full army at their disposal, Dante's forces were structured into two divisions of infantry, totaling around 20,000 soldiers. Flanking the infantry were two units of cavalry on each side, with each division comprising 500 riders, amounting to a formidable 2,000-strong cavalry force. Additionally, there were two large divisions of archers, boasting nearly 15,000 skilled marksmen in each division. Finally, at the heart of the battlefield, stood Dante's elite forces, including the renowned Wyvern Corps of 100 warriors, supported by a skilled mage corps.
The knights who trained alongside Dante were the very same regiment that accompanied him in battle, forming his most elite squad of warriors.
"You know, I've been wondering about something for a while, but never had the chance to ask," John began, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "How did we actually win the war? If the barbarian chief was as cunning as you claim, wouldn't he have dispatched a separate division to attack the duchy while we were engaged on the main front? Even if we emerged victorious on the primary battlefield, the duchy should have crumbled under the weight of the flank attack, considering most of our forces were tied up in the main battle."
A flicker of intrigue danced across John's face as he posed the question to Dante.
Dante pondered for a moment, realizing that Sir Beaumont would provide the most detailed explanation. He stored away his towel and called out to sir Beaumont.
"You know what? Sir Beaumont can give you the best account of our secret operation. If you wish to listen of course" Dante asked, arching an eyebrow.
John's eyes lit up with anticipation as he nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! I'd love to hear all the details."
Sir Beaumont, with respect in his voice, approached the two, ready to share the tale.
"How may I assist you, my liege?" Sir Beaumont inquired, directing his attention to Dante.
"The kid wants to know how we won the war... Care to regale him with the story of our secret operation?" Dante requested, his curiosity piqued.
"Certainly, sir. It would be my pleasure," Sir Beaumont replied, taking a seat beside John and preparing to recount the captivating account.
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About five months ago, when Dante received news of the barbarian invasion...
"Beaumont, come to my office immediately and have your belongings prepared. You'll be embarking on a mission soon," Dante urgently spoke into a communication crystal, swiftly donning a robe over his night attire before hastening out of his room.
"Yes, sir," Beaumont replied, rushing out of his quarters, leaving the soldiers stationed outside bewildered by the Knights Captain's sudden urgency.
"You there, inform Amy to pack my belongings. I have an urgent mission to attend to. Also, ask her to prepare a change of clothes. I'll depart as soon as I've finished meeting with the Lord," Beaumont instructed, abruptly halting in his tracks to address the startled guard stationed outside his room.
"Yes, sir. I'll attend to it immediately," the guard saluted before dashing off towards the servants' quarters.
Once the guard had dashed away, Beaumont hurriedly made his way to the Duke's office, completely unaware of the reason behind the Grand Duke's sudden summoning. However, having stood by Dante's side since his ascent to the position of Grand Duke, Beaumont knew all too well that Dante wouldn't have called for him unless a dire situation had arisen.
"What has transpired, my lord, for you to summon me so urgently?" Beaumont inquired, rushing into Dante's office and finding him engrossed in writing on a piece of paper.
"The northern barbarians have launched a surprise invasion upon us, without any prior warning. To make matters worse, it coincided with the monster waves. We currently lack sufficient forces to defend our flank, and it will take several months to mobilize and arm our troops," Dante explained, continuing to write.
As Beaumont thought about the gravity of the situation, he attempted to piece together the implications. "And you're unable to rely on the ability of the other northern lords or your vassals to gather soldiers in time. So, you want me to journey to the imperial palace and request reinforcements. However, communicating via the communication crystals to the imperial palace where every call is intercepted poses a risk of divulging sensitive information to the world," Beaumont reasoned, his face displaying thoughtful contemplation.
"Exactly. There's no time to waste. Each passing second is crucial. I've prepared two reports here. One is for you to peruse during your journey, while the other is meant for the Emperor. Eric should understand the significance of your presence, so he should trust the contents of the letter. You should not have to worry about it. However, in a worst-case scenario, use this," Dante said, handing Beaumont two sealed envelopes and a distinctive red communication crystal that differed from the usual blue ones. He continued, "This is a private crystal, ensuring that calls made with it cannot be intercepted. Use it only when absolutely necessary, as excessive usage may still pose a slight risk of occasional tapping."