Caer shifted into a defensive stance, raising his wooden sword in anticipation. "For now, I'll stand on the defense. Your task is to attack and defend while maintaining your stance," he instructed. The sunlight played on the grains of sand around us as we engaged in the training session. '' Of course I will respond to each attack you do, so keep in mind the defender's shoulder position to predict the line of attack.''
As Caer assumed his position and signaled for me to start, I launched into the offensive, swinging my wooden sword diagonally with determination. To my surprise, Caer effortlessly parried my attack. However, instead of countering immediately, he seized my blade and deftly tossed it aside, leaving me momentarily defenseless. In the next instant, his sword connected with my side, delivering a swift and unexpected strike
"What the hell was that?" I questioned, catching my breath on the ground, disarmed.
Caer, with a patient demeanor, began to explain, "One of your many mistakes. Firstly, when your attack is parried, give it enough force to let your opponent feel the shock of the hit, but not so much that you lose your balance. Immediately after the hit, retract your sword and position it where your opponent's guard is vulnerable. Don't linger too long with your sword exposed. As you saw, I promptly grabbed it and threw it away, leaving you at my mercy." His words carried the weight of experience, and thinking about them also made sense as during a fight being still was a dead sentence
"Wait a moment, won't I cut myself if I grab the enemy's blade?" I interjected, a hint of concern in my voice.
Caer chuckled, revealing a chained glove on his hand. "Not with this. You need proper protection. Now, another essential lesson is the importance of utilizing armor effectively in a fight."
Without waiting for my response, Caer retrieved his sword and, with a swift motion, threw it toward me. "Let me demonstrate. Pay close attention," he urged before getting into a stance and motioning for me to proceed.
My grip tightened around the hilt of the wooden sword as I executed a powerful vertical swing, aiming to heed Caer's advice. True to form, Caer effortlessly deflected the attack with a calculated ease .
However, I wasn't prepared to let the exchange end there as I capitalized on the forward momentum of my swing, propelling my body to shove Caer away. The unexpected move disrupted his stance, creating a precious opening for me to exploit.
Seizing the opportunity, I transitioned seamlessly into a swift diagonal swing. The arc of my blade sliced through the air, targeting Caer's defenses. In a display of remarkable skill, Caer raised his elbow, the armored couter acting as a formidable shield against my oncoming blade. The resounding clash of wood against metal echoed in the training area.
With a fluidity that belied his strength, Caer retaliated. His response was twofold—a masterstroke that left me momentarily awestruck. In one continuous motion, he redirected my blade with precision and, with the same arm, delivered a sharp, stinging slap using the chained glove.
The sharp sting from the slap echoed through my senses, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. The impact of Caer's chained glove had taken me by surprise, leaving an unwelcome reminder of the consequences of lapses in my defense
''Did you understand what I meant now?'' He asked as he extended his hand to help me raise
"Yes, I do," I replied sharply, spitting out the metallic taste of blood from an inadvertent bite to my cheek during the blow .
"Remember, even with all the mana, proper swordsmanship contributes to victory as much as the ability to invoke magic. Use your surroundings and always think outside the box, and victory will be yours. I fought in many battles, witnessed comrades die – hell, I killed a few myself for desertion. In the end... I lost track of time. All I saw was the sword I wielded, all the people I grew up with gone or retired. It was just me, swinging and swinging and swinging again, waiting until death claimed me..." Caer's words lingered, alongside the solitude of a life spent in the pursuit of martial prowess.
"It was just that – all the days blurred into one. Marching, eating, sleeping, and killing. I still don't know how I managed to survive. I closed my eyes, and when I reopened them, I was leading knights into battle. I killed demons and monsters alike, just as they killed us... and in the end, we lost nonetheless. Our time is about to go. We are all that remain. You will be the one to take up our torches, so mind my words. At the end of the day, it is he who survives that wins. So, for the love of the gods, do everything to make sure you do." Caer's words carried the weight of a lifetime's experiences, a solemn reflection that I heard, as a youngster heed the words of his father.
Caer's gaze became distant, his eyes reflecting the weight of memories that lingered like shadows in the recesses of his mind. "All those fools who speak of honor and fight with bravery? There were many like them in the war. Want to meet them? They're all underground. In the end, I was the one who survived."
His voice carried a mixture of bitterness and sorrow, the weight of loss evident in the lines etched upon his face. It was as if the ghosts of fallen comrades walked with him, and the sadness emanating from his words was his companion too
In silence, I refrained from interrupting, simply absorbing the weight of Caer's words. Before me stood not a knight, hero, or veteran; he was a survivor, much like myself. He was my and I was him, all we known all our life was to fight to survive, the difference was that his fight has ended and he came back a shell of his former self , but mine did not.....my war was still raging on and the prize was survival , what a grim aim it is...