The crowd's murmurs reached a crescendo as Padrin launched another swift attack towards Amukelo, who was still reeling from their previous exchanges. Padrin's movements were a blur, combining speed with tactical prowess that Amukelo struggled to match. As their blades met with a loud clang, Padrin expertly manipulated the clash, forcing Amukelo's sword to the side with a deft flick of his wrist. In the brief opening that followed, Padrin delivered a sharp elbow to Amukelo's chest, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to stagger back, gasping for air.
Before Amukelo could recover, Padrin advanced, his sword aimed directly at Amukelo's neck in a swift, decisive motion. The sword stopped mere inches from Amukelo's skin, the cold metal a stark reminder of the fine line between combat and potential catastrophe. Amukelo's eyes widened as he stared at the blade, the reality of the spar—and his vulnerabilities within it—sinking in deeply.
From the side, the master intervened with a firm voice, "Enough. Padrin is the winner of this match." The announcement was met with cheers and applause from the onlookers, their excitement palpable in the charged atmosphere of the training hall.
Padrin, with a respectful nod towards his opponent, sheathed his sword and extended a hand towards Amukelo. Hesitating only for a moment, Amukelo took it, their handshake firm. "It was a good fight," Padrin said with genuine respect in his voice. "You are stronger than I expected. Soon you will catch up to me. I'm waiting for it."
Amukelo, still catching his breath, managed a smile, "I can't believe how strong you are. I hope we will have more sparring like this."
The master approached them, his expression serious yet thoughtful. "Padrin, you are as good as always, but your moves, although effective and unexpected, leave many openings. If you faced a faster opponent, you might be the one who suffers from them," he advised before turning to Amukelo. "You, Amukelo, still need a lot to learn. You are fast and strong and have a good combat sense, but your technique is very chaotic. You never controlled any clash with Padrin, and you always ended up having to respond to his fatal attacks rather than prevent them. Overall, you both have still a lot to improve on."
Pausing for a moment, the master's gaze swept over the young fighters. "Amukelo, you will train with a more advanced group. When you get strong enough, I will assign you a partner. Sabrif will tell you more details about what to do today. That's it for now." With those final words, he turned and walked away, leaving the young fighters to ponder his advice.
Amukelo felt a mix of disappointment and motivation swirling within him. The fight had exposed his weaknesses, but it had also ignited a fiercer determination to improve and excel. As he watched the master leave, he resolved to take each piece of advice to heart, eager to grow stronger and more adept in the art of combat.
Bral and Idin approached Amukelo, clapping him on the back with a mix of admiration and brotherly teasing. "Wow, Amukelo, that was great," Idin exclaimed, his eyes reflecting genuine respect. "That stomp on his blade was amazing, I would never thought about that."
Bral chimed in with a grin, "But now you should familiarize yourself with your training group. The lesson won't be too long, so once you're done with it, tell us and we will prepare for your 'shopping'," he added with a knowing wink, causing Amukelo to blush slightly, still a bit naive about the insinuation.
Not long after, Sabrif approached, gesturing for Amukelo to follow him to his training class. The room they entered was already bustling with activity; ten men were already there, making Amukelo the eleventh. He had expected some introductory theory or perhaps a breakdown of the day's objectives but was instead thrust directly into practical exercises.
The focus of today's lesson was on how to effectively respond to specific combat moves, one of the moves was the circular move that had caught Amukelo off guard during his spar with Padrin. The teacher demonstrated a counter-movement—a concise, controlled maneuver that mirrored the opponent's attack but fell short of extending into dangerous territory. This technique not only neutralized the immediate threat but also opened a window for a retaliatory strike.
At first, Amukelo found the execution challenging. The theory was straightforward enough, but translating it into fluid, responsive action required a finesse he had yet to master. He practiced repeatedly with the teacher, each attempt bringing him closer to a seamless execution, though his initial attempts were marked by awkwardness and hesitation.
After about three hours of intense practice, the teacher finally called a halt to the official session. "That's it for today," he announced, adding that the next session would be in the afternoon the following day. Knowing that Amukelo is new he also mentioned that the facilities were open for continued practice if they chose to stay and that no one will ask anything if they won't appear. So making the best of this place was fully on them.
"This place is designed to provide both structured learning and the flexibility for self-guided practice," the teacher explained, noting that while healers were necessary for the more intensive sparring sessions, informal practice could continue under the watchful eyes of peers, or occasionally, the master himself.
Amukelo absorbed this information, recognizing the dual nature of the training center. It was a place of rigorous discipline and structured lessons, yet it also embraced the spontaneity of unrestricted practice and personal growth. He appreciated the balance between guided instruction and the encouragement of independent development.
As the session ended, Amukelo joined Bral and Idin in the main hall. Bral nudged Amukelo, reminding him of the afternoon plans with a mischievous grin. "Don't forget about your important 'shopping' appointment," he teased, ensuring Amukelo remembered his commitment to Pao.
Amukelo followed Bral and Idin out of the training facility. The bright sunlight seemed to accentuate his daze as they stepped into the bustling streets of the town.
"So, how should I prepare? What is it even about? You seem to know more than I do," Amukelo asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Bral and Idin exchanged a glance, their expressions a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "I can't believe you haven't realized it yet," Bral chuckled. "She asked you to go on a date, Amukelo."
"A... a date?" Amukelo stuttered, the word feeling foreign and unexpected in his mouth.
"Exactly," Idin chimed in with a grin. "What else do you think she needs you for?"
"But why would she invite me on a date?" Amukelo's confusion was evident, his eyebrows knitting together in genuine puzzlement.
"Can't you see how she's into you?" Bral asked, almost exasperated by his friend's naivety.
"Really?" Amukelo was still trying to piece together his interactions with Pao, "I thought she's just really kind and shy."
Idin playfully wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, "She never was this kind to me," he lamented dramatically, eliciting a half-smile, half-baffled look from Amukelo.
"Okay, enough of these jokes," Bral intervened as he noticed Amukelo's growing discomfort, "you'll scare him off before he even gets to the date."
Amukelo's expression shifted to one of mild annoyance mixed with relief as he realized his friends were making fun of him. He didn't say anything, but his gaze was asking 'Seriously?' as he was looking from one to the other.
"Sorry, sorry... Okay, truly enough now. Let's prepare for real," Bral said, shifting back to a more serious tone.
As they walked down the lively street, Bral's tone became more business-like. "How much money do you have left?" he inquired, glancing at Amukelo's small coin bag.
Amukelo opened the bag and peered inside, a slight frown forming. "I spent everything on joining the training facility," he admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed about his current financial state.
"In that case, I'll lend you some money," Bral offered generously. "You can pay me back whenever you want. Now, we need to get you some more elegant clothes. You can't show up in your usual gear."
Grateful for the support, Amukelo nodded in agreement. Together, they headed towards a nearby clothing store, determined to find something that would make a good impression for his unexpected afternoon date.