Leo for some godforsaken reason couldn't bring himself to leave the unprotected boy. So with hesitation he trained him.
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Williams POV.
First day of training.
"His sword strikes pelted with more unrelenting force than rain. Every thrust and slash of his spear emanated the strength of a master. His stance with the bow never wavered. However it felt like something was missing. Each hit and attack felt, I don't know, half complete, as if they were mere imitations of the real thing.
Third day of training.
Tiredness crept into my eyes. The long day of training couldn't be described in any other way than hellish. The memory of the day replayed itself through my mind. I was astonished by my master's strength. I've felt this feeling before, when grandpa killed a bear with his bare hands. The scar that ran down his right eye was proof of his victory. Now that I'm thinking about it, the days he brought back monster corpses, his hands were always glistening with blood. The thought made my teeth grit. No one could kill him, it's impossible, however the dead don't lie. Even with the thoughts spinning through my head, it doesn't distract me. I'm afraid of sleep taking me into its greedy grasp. The awakening haunts my dreams, as if the memories took hold of my brain, each night I see it. A world of white, biting cold. A boy, or perhaps a man, sitting on a throne of ice. His face tired, grieving, pale white. He's lost everything, left within a kingdom of ice, life did not live here, this place was never made for it. An image of love, glory, and war. No possessions other than the clothes on his back, and the throne made nothing more than bitter useless ice. Being an expert mage, no an archmage, a mage above mages was his dream. Achieving it meant him the world, and in a way it took away his world, even after he slayed the demon king.
9
Seventh day of training.
The training was completely flipped on its head, over the week I could see weakness in his attacks, however seeing weakness and utilizing it is a completely different story. But it all changed when I won a battle. The master's eyes gleamed, and his face looked almost proud.
Fourteenth day of training.
"Master, if you don't mind me asking, where did you learn how to fight." A question that was biting at me.
His face stiffened. He closed his eyes as if remembering something. "That," he took a deep breath, "is none of your business." His stern response went against his usually relaxed attitude.
However, more than anyone I know it's easier to just forget.
Master got up and readied himself. The last training match ended as quickly as it started. Master let loose a punch, and I found his weak spot and hit him in the nuts. Ungentlemanly yes, but effective. And so ends the last day of training."
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