A few hours had passed since his duel with Gabriel, and Arthur was dressed in the brown leather pants and white shirt that Gabriel had given him.
He walked through the narrow streets of the great abandoned city as if danger did not lurk around every corner. His black hair was loose and danced in the gentle breeze as he walked. He didn't know where it came from, and he didn't care.
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment for a few seconds. With each step, old memories resurfaced in his mind. In his childhood, his mother used to take him for walks in large flower gardens. He had always loved to close his eyes and enjoy the cool morning breeze caressing his face as he ran his hands through the soft petals of the flowers.
At that moment, a sharp pain pierced Arthur's heart and bitterness appeared on his face. Stopping his steps once more, Arthur looked down at his hands. They were shaking uncontrollably as his breathing became heavy.
Suddenly, a flash of light interrupted his vision and made the world change color.
The black stones were dyed red.
The sky, once lit by beautiful bluish crystals, was painted black as it was swallowed by a deep abyss from which blood rained down upon Arthur.
His trembling hands, once pale, were now bathed in blood.
"H-Help...
Once again, Arthur found himself kneeling over the body of the young man who had died in his arms, watching the life slowly fade from his hopeful eyes. He saw the figure of Conrad's fading body, the piles of corpses that had chased him here, whether human or monster, of red or blue blood.
All of it invaded Arthur's mind, drowning him in a cruel reality. -Foolish is the man who thinks he can survive the war without consequences. -
"Uncle Arthur, are you all right?" Alice's childish voice pierced Arthur's ears and dragged him back to the real world like powerful chains. Arthur shuddered and looked down at his hands; they were no longer red, just their usual pale color.
"I'm fine," Arthur turned to answer the little girl but stopped when he realized there was no one there.
He was alone.
Arthur froze for a few seconds as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Gritting his teeth, he could only shake his head and try to put it all out of his mind. He was in no condition to think too much and torture himself over things he couldn't change.
Looking for a place to refresh his mind, Arthur entered the door of one of the many ruined buildings.
He walked through the dusty room, sliding his hands along the rough walls, and passed through a door that seemed to lead to another building. His eyes fluttered, and once again his steps stopped when he saw a person in front of him.
It was Safira. She sat lazily on the black stone floor. Her hood no longer framed her face as it usually did, and her beautiful short black hair danced elegantly in the cold air that came in through the many openings in the building. Her blue eyes, as beautiful as the most polished sapphire, turned to Arthur, who shuddered slightly.
"Ah... I'm sorry," Arthur apologized and hurriedly turned to leave, only to be stopped by a feminine voice, soft but cold.
"N-no," Safira held out her hand to Arthur. Her voice was cold, yet soft and pleasant to the ears, like the gentle breeze of a winter morning. "Stay..." She ducked her head to avoid Arthur's sudden look of surprise.
...
...
...
A long silence filled the air. Safira seemed too embarrassed to speak and Arthur was too surprised to find words. In the more than two weeks he had spent with Safira, he had only seen her speak twice, and both times it had been short, simple words to Alice or Conrad.
"Y-you are a strong... warrior..." She spoke with difficulty, making Arthur smile. But before he could thank her for the compliment, she continued. "But... you are not a good warrior..."
"Why not?" Arthur was surprised and questioned as the smile disappeared from his face. Although Safira's speech was a bit confusing, he preferred not to judge her and simply ignored her inability to speak.
"Hm..." Safira let out a long, nasal moan before standing up. "Show me your... posture."
Arthur simply nodded and drew his sword from its scabbard before assuming his usual stance - firm shoulders, arms straight and outstretched, while keeping his feet in a wide position.
"Hm..." Safira exhaled before approaching Arthur and grabbing the collar of his shirt.
"Wha-" Arthur was confused by the woman's actions, but his words were cut short as he felt her slip her legs between his, easily breaking his stance.
Arthur saw his vision flip 180 degrees as Safira's slender, light body easily lifted his muscular, heavy body off the ground, slamming his back onto the floor with a loud thud and letting out a painful groan. His eyes were wide with a bit of disbelief.
"Gabriel... didn't fight seriously..." Safira held out her hands to help Arthur to his feet. "He could easily defeat you with two blows... if he wanted to..."
At that moment, a hint of realization appeared in Arthur's eyes.
Of course! How stupid I was! Arthur repeated to himself. Gabriel was the holy son of the Church who had been raised from childhood with a single goal: to become a great warrior. Meanwhile, Arthur had never touched a sword until he came into this world, his swordsmanship might be mediocre enough for a random mercenary, but compared to Gabriel or even Safira, he could hardly be called below average.
"I can teach..." Safira spoke, watching the despondent expression on Arthur's face.
Hearing this, Arthur looked into her eyes.
"If you want..." She finished as she looked away, a slight blush appearing on the visible part of her face. Something that only made Arthur's gaze more intense. He wasn't that kind of guy, but he had to admit that she was very cute.
"Yeah, I want to..."
"Right..." Safira turned her eyes back to Arthur, her voice a little more confident as she seemed to suppress a smile. "Show me your stance again..."
"Okay," Arthur nodded before gripping his sword tightly and repeating the same stance as before.
"Hm..." Safira circled Arthur's body several times, observing every bit of Arthur's posture.
With her thin, delicate fingers, she slowly began to change his posture, as if she were a sculptor working on the sculpture of her life.
Arthur looked away as redness appeared on his face. He couldn't say he was completely comfortable with it, sometimes Safira's touch was too prolonged as her hands roamed over the muscles beneath his clothes.
For a while, she seemed more like a child exploring a new toy than a teacher correcting a student's posture.
Safira's face shared the same flush as she seemed to have lost sight of her original goal, her eyes shining with interest as she studied every bit of Arthur.
Being an extremely handsome man had its advantages.
"Done..." Safira finally finished and stopped in front of Arthur again.
Without even giving Arthur time to say anything, she grabbed the collar of Arthur's shirt and intertwined her legs with his before imitating the same movement, with the same force and consistency, but nothing happened. No matter how much force she applied, Arthur's posture remained firm and unbreakable.
"See?" Safira smiled shyly before walking away.
"Ah... it's amazing... thank you." Arthur thanked her while scratching his neck, in fact, he didn't even know how to react and just stood there with a confused and stiff posture.
Ignoring Arthur's reaction, Safira waved in the air and a long sword appeared in her hands.
"N-now... Fencing..." Safira said as she pointed her sword in Arthur's direction.
And so, the monotonous afternoon ended as Arthur was instructed by Safira in the art of the sword.
NT: Sorry for the delay, I had some problems at work and had no time to post.