Nico's brows rose in surprise as endless excitement surged through him, "Yes!"
The boy coughed and then spoke in a calmer tone, "That would be nice."
Phantom smirked and said nothing regarding his student's weird antics. He stowed away all his supplies in his storage ring and then groaned, as he stood up with the help of his spear, his knees producing a popping sound.
Then, with no fanfare, the man with the eyepatch strode to the centre of the clearing and turned to face his opponent. Nico walked a few steps behind. He took a few deep breaths to calm his raging enthusiasm.
He put up a solemn mask. Nico would treat this as a priceless opportunity to improve his insight and skill with the spear.
As the instructor and his student faced off against each other, a sudden breeze blew through the meadow, rustling the blades of grass in a serene cacophony.
At that moment, Phantom spoke, his voice carrying into the wind, "We shall only stop sparring when you surrender. I will limit myself to your level and slowly up the ante as the spar progresses. Any objections?"
Nico shook his head.
"Then, let's get started."
With that, Phantom dashed forward, spear in hand. Nico narrowed his eyes and tensed his legs, spurring into action as well. He focused on the man's movements to predict any of his upcoming movements.
Clang!
As Phantom's spear met his own in the emphatic clangour of steel and against steel, Nico's eyes widened, seeing the man with the eyepatch drop his shoulder.
The brown-haired boy gritted his teeth and moved to intercept the new strike. However, to his dismay, he found that the bearded man's weapon slid past his feeble guard.
It was as if it had a will of its own. It easily penetrated his defence.
Carrying out the first thing that came to mind, Nico leaned backward as his instructor's spear narrowly whistled past his face. Just as he was about to launch a counter-attack of his own, he immediately cursed.
Another attack was heading his way.
This time from a different angle.
'Blazing Fates!'
Nico hurriedly shifted his spear and thrust forward, hoping to cancel out his instructor's strike with his own. Unfortunately for him, Phantom had seen this coming from a mile away.
The blue-eyed man tilted his weapon ever so slightly. This caused his student's spear to change trajectory and go off on a tangent.
Nico cursed more and more, as he felt his weapon sail past his instructor's body, leaving him wide open. In a final moment of desperation, he reversed his grip and forcibly executed a wide sweep.
Phantom merely raised an eyebrow in response. His figure blurred as the brown-haired boy's eyes widened once more.
"That was a good attack, my little hen." Nico heard a faint voice whisper in his ear. He shivered and then immediately tried to turn his head, only to wince a moment later.
The tip of Phantom's spear rested against his neck.
The boy gulped back a startled cry before he sighed despondently. The man with the eyepatch promptly removed the weapon from his student's neck. "Not bad for a rookie…"
Nico bit his lips and hesitated for a moment. As his shoulders dropped, he asked, "How did I lose? I didn't even have time to send an actual attack of my own."
The dark-haired instructor straightened his posture and responded in a lecturing tone, "Putting aside the fact that there is a vast chasm of skill between us, you failed to grasp initial control of the battle. As soon as I dropped my shoulder, you were all but guaranteed to lose. It was only a matter of when not if."
"Control…" Nico mumbled to himself.
Phantom continued, "In addition to losing immediate control of the battle, you also failed to sense what I like to call the tempo of a battle."
"Tempo?"
"Yes," Phantom nodded. "The tempo of a battle can include a myriad of things, but it ultimately boils down to this: how fast or slow a battle is being played out."
"If you can learn to effect said tempo in combat, then you could slowly decrease the pace of a battle to give you a moment's rest, or make your opponent enter a lull of false security, for example."
Nico's eyes shined with the influx of information. He saw the man with the eyepatch shift his gaze and stare at the lake with a far-off look as if reminiscing.
"Since I am a Wind Element user, I had an easier time learning this, as I could just listen to the wind and adjust accordingly. However, a mundane person can still grasp the concept. It just may take a while longer," The blue-eyed man sighed and concluded with a profound emotion in his eye, " It is a neat little trick that has saved me countless times when fighting against the Demons. Don't underestimate its value."
The brown-haired trainee hummed. A sudden question came to mind, "Sir, you mentioned fighting Demons just there. Does that mean you're a Descender?"
Phantom turned his head and stared at Nico with his one icy, blue eye. The boy shuddered under that chilly gaze. "Yes. I was one anyway, before I lost my eye to a Covert Werewolf… blasted creatures!" the instructor muttered to himself.
Nico's mouth opened wide. This was now the third Descender he had the fortune of coming across. He leaned forward slightly and couldn't help but ask, "What's it like being a Descender?"
Ever since he was young, one of Nico's aspirations had always been to become one of the heroes fighting on the front lines against the Demons. Whenever he had asked his mother or Beverly the same question, they had mumbled a vague response and hastily changed the topic.
Eventually, he stopped probing. Partly because he knew he would not get an answer, and partly because he did not want to reopen his mother's and aunt's old wounds.
Phantom paused as his eyes darkened. "What's it like?" the older man repeated. The frostiness in his one functioning eye increased.
Nico feared he had overstepped his bounds. Just as he was about to make a hasty apology, he saw the bearded man release a poignant sigh, "I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Never mind the crushing burden of fighting for the world's survival, knowing that if you lose not only will you die, but for every demon that passes through, there's a chance of someone dying at the hands of the abomination you failed to defeat…"
The brown-haired boy's eyes rippled, resonating with the pain in Phantom's voice.
"Everywhere you go, death surrounds you in its chilling embrace with rivers of carnage, and blood… so much blood. Your own weakness constantly haunts you, reminding you that you caused your comrade's death. If only you were stronger, then they would not have died in vain… and would not have joined the ranks of the many pointless sacrifices…"