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Chapter 19 - Training VI

William's training under Myre began intensely from the very first day. Her reputation as the Queen of Vampires and her mastery of unarmed combat wasn't just for show—every punch, every movement was precise, calculated, and powerful. At first, William struggled to keep up, his smaller body flung around like a ragdoll as Myre pushed him to his limits. But instead of breaking, William grew tougher, his resilience sharpening with each passing day.

"Focus, William!" Myre called out sharply, her voice cutting through the morning air. "If your stance is weak, your enemy will overpower you before you even throw a punch."

William adjusted his stance, his small fists raised to guard his face as he took a deep breath. Myre moved with lightning speed, appearing in front of him in an instant. Her fist shot out, but William, reacting on instinct, blocked the strike with his forearm. The force behind it still sent him sliding backward across the training field, but this time, he remained on his feet.

"Good," Myre said with a smile that showed her sharp fangs. "You're improving. But don't get cocky." She launched a sweeping kick toward his legs, and William had to dive to the side to avoid it.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The pain in William's muscles became familiar, almost comforting, a reminder of his growth. Each day, Myre would drill him in hand-to-hand techniques, from basic jabs and hooks to complex grapples and throws. She taught him how to read his opponent's movements, anticipate their attacks, and use his size to his advantage. His once frail body began to harden with lean muscle, the daily training honing him into a fighter.

As months passed, Myre introduced him to dagger arts. "In close combat, a dagger can be more dangerous than a sword," Myre explained, flipping a sleek, curved blade between her fingers effortlessly. "It's not about brute strength, but precision and timing."

William nodded, watching her movements closely. His hands gripped the dagger's hilt, feeling its weight. It was a different type of focus than unarmed combat. The dagger demanded control and patience, each strike needing to be calculated and deadly.

At first, the blade felt awkward in his hands, the unfamiliar weight throwing off his balance. But, with Myre's guidance, he began to understand the fluidity of the weapon. Every day, he practiced slashing, stabbing, and parrying against Myre's relentless attacks. She was unforgiving, punishing him for every mistake with quick strikes that left small bruises across his arms and legs. Yet, each bruise was a lesson learned.

One day, after almost a year of relentless training, William finally managed to land a blow on Myre. He had feinted to the left, then quickly spun on his heel and delivered a swift strike with the dagger to her side. It wasn't deep—it couldn't be, given her natural defenses—but it was enough to earn a raised eyebrow from her.

"Well done, my prince," Myre said with a grin, placing her hand on her side where the blade had grazed her. "You're becoming quite the little fighter."

William beamed, the praise giving him a surge of confidence. He had come a long way since that first day when he could barely keep his balance. Now, at seven years old, his body had transformed. His shoulders had broadened slightly, his muscles more defined. He had developed a wiry strength, the result of Myre's brutal but effective training. The once soft, childlike features were beginning to give way to the budding look of a young warrior.

As the seasons passed, William continued to grow—not just physically, but mentally as well. Myre's teachings were not limited to just fighting techniques. She imparted wisdom from her long life, stories of battles she had fought, enemies she had bested, and mistakes she had made. Through her, William learned not only the art of combat but also the importance of discipline, strategy, and respect for one's power.

One evening, as the sun set over the training field, casting a golden glow across the grass, William stood before Myre, drenched in sweat after hours of sparring. The young prince was breathing heavily but still standing tall, his eyes burning with determination.

"You've come far, William," Myre said, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "Few of your age could endure what you have."

"Thank you, Myre," William replied, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "But I still have much to learn. My siblings endured too, and they've probably endured even more than me."

Myre nodded, her eyes gleaming with approval. "That's the right attitude. A true warrior never stops learning." She then added with a smirk, "And don't belittle yourself. Your siblings may have gone through similar training, but not as harsh as this."

William sighed and collapsed onto his back, gasping for breath. "She's merciless," he mumbled to himself.

[But her training has helped you immensely,] Sera said as she displayed William's Soul Records before him.

Skills:

Unarmed Combat: Level 6

Dagger Arts: Level 3

"I don't think I'm suited for the dagger," William muttered, frowning at the dismal level 3.

[Well, you're not wrong there,] Sera agreed playfully.

William chuckled tiredly and then murmured, "I wonder what I should choose next."

[I would suggest starting with swords,] Sera advised thoughtfully. [They're a balanced weapon, offering a blend of slicing, stabbing, and even blunt damage depending on the type. Swords are pretty much perfect for getting a solid foundation in weapons training.]

William nodded as he lay on the ground, his small body covered in bruises and cuts from the day's brutal training. Moments later, the maids rushed over, their faces filled with concern as they began healing his wounds, using gentle magic to soothe his battered form.

As the soft glow of the healing magic washed over him, William couldn't help but smile slightly. The day had been rough, and tomorrow would be no different. But he was getting stronger, bit by bit. Soon, he'd be ready to tackle whatever came next—whether it was the art of the sword, mastering new skills, or facing greater challenges ahead.

"this life, I will live to fullest" William thought clenching his hands.