" Huh? Protecting others? Is that what you think you're learning here?" The older man peeked down at him with one eye wide open as if to peer inside of his brain. " That's something out of a bedtime story." He stood straight, placing his axe over his shoulder. " Grow up kid. What I'm teaching you is how to kill when you need it. That's what sword training really means. If you want to protect others, you should probably pick a shield instead."
The child blinked twice at the large man before him, a bead of sweat running down his temple. " Kill…"
" Masrur." The voice was firm and strong, both of them looked back at the man standing in the shade of a large tree, his face covered in shadow. " He's just a kid. You don't have to tell him so blatantly. Just teach him how to defend himself."
" Tsk," the larger man, Masrur, looked away as he tapped his shoulder with the back of his ax. " That's why the coming generation is so soft. I've been taught that when I was way younger than him."
The child looked up at the man under the tree as if asking for help. " It's not really to kill, right, this sword trainig?"
The man considered him for a moment before his lips pulled into a small smile. " You're quite the smart boy, Sindbad, so maybe it's alright to tell you this. Yes, swords were made mostly to kill." The boy flinched at that. " But they do not have the ability to do so on their own. It's a power granted only to the one wielding them. The moment you hold up a blade, you can either end someone's life or spare it."
The kid looked down at the small wooden sword he was training with. " Something like that…I can't…"
" Maybe for now. You don't have a reason to do so right now," the man spoke calmly. " But a time would come when you might have to make that choice. Then, you should make sure to choose wisely, who deserves to be cut."
Sindbad closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, and the shaking of his hands subsided.
Salah noticed that and he couldn't help but let out a small smile at that.
When the kid opened his eyes again, they shone with such determination that the pirates had to take a few steps back and away from him when they felt his aura.
Sindbad had made his choice.
Those people who didn't think twice about ambushing a trading ship and wreaking havoc atop it…
They needed to be cut so as not to do it again.
With that in mind, he took a step forward, pointing his small blade at the man across from him challengingly.
The man scrunch his nose at the little boy and stepped up to be his opponent. Sindbad's resolve wasn't swayed by the difference in size, nor the intimidating scarred face of the person before him.
His stance was firm.
Not liking that, the man lunged forward, opting to end it all in a swift motion.
Sindbad sidestepped him quite easily as he twirled around before delivering a deep wound to his chest right under his extended arm, where he couldn't defend.
The man toppled and fell down, bleeding on the floor.
Salah blinked twice at the performance he had just witnessed. If it wasn't for the blade and the blood, he would have sworn that Sindbad was just dancing around.
The other pirates who came at him suffered a similar fate, with minimal and yet precise blow, Sindbad evaded all of their swords as if dancing with the breeze and cut them right where they didn't expect.
The boy finally stood upon a pile of severely injured pirates who could not stand up to their feet.
" Boy!" Salah cut down the last of his opponents and turned on the child. " Where did you learn to fight like that? It's the first time I've seen such sword style."
The boy smiled at him before running off to the mail and climbing all the way up so he could see the other ships from there.
Their crew members had scattered around during the fight.
He quickly scanned the amalgamation of fighting people, ignoring Salah who was shouting at him to get back down. His eyes narrowed when he spotted his target and a large smirk tugged at his lips as he held tightly to the rope.
" I've wanted to try this for so long!" With a swift motion, he cut the rope from behind him.
Gravity did its job and pulled at him.
So did the end of the rope still tied to the mast.
And Sindbad swung with full speed towards one of the pirates' ships.
He let go when he was directly above it and performed a summersault in the air to adjust his landing.
He dropped right on top of a pirate's head, forcing him to the ground before he could assault a member of their crew.
" Sindbad!" The sailor looked back in surprise when he saw the kid behind him, and it took him a split second to take notice of the pirate beneath the boy's feet.
" You're welcome!" The boy cried as he waded his way easily through the fighting men. He was thankful that every one of them was too busy engaging their opponent to notice a child running behind them.
Those who did would soon be pressed on by the sailors to prevent them from chasing him.
The run towards the back of the ship was quite easy, and he hardly had done so much as parrying a stray blow.
There, at the very back, atop the ledge of the ship, was the real fight, Sindbad thought.
Rashad and the pirates' leader, a man no smaller than the captain and definitely with as much disrespect for shirts as him, were engaging in a sword fight on the small foothold.
Much to Sindbad's surprise, Rashad was overpowered.
Not because he lacked strength, Rashad was easily defending himself against the pirate's blows without him even putting so much force into his own sword.
It was that he was running out of space. He probably had to jump to the ledge to avoid the others who were fighting around him, but that had turned against him eventually.
If he continued to back like that, Rashad would be thrown into the sea.
Sindbad had to act quickly if he wished to save Rashad's life.
He had to draw the pirate's attention and give Rashad a window to retaliate.
Such a feat would be hard without having to face the man himself, which would be the same as asking for his head to be cut.
The gears of his mind spun fast before clicking together as an idea was formed.
Calculation complete, he ran back to make preparations for his plan.
Meanwhile, Rashad was stuck parrying one attack from the pirate after another, not given a moment to catch his breath.
The pirate merely sneered down at him as he continued his relentless onslaught, not wishing to give him a gap to think, pressing at him hard and forcing him back with each blow.
His plan was simple.
Overwhelm him.
Don't allow him to find a path out of his predicament.
Force him back.
Drop him down to the water.
The pirate's smirk broadened as Rashad's last step backward failed to find perch and his whole body tilted back dangerously towards the sea.
He had already lost balance.
He was way past the point where he could shift his weight.
He was about to die.
Rashad's eyes widened at the sight of the waves awaiting him down there.
And he fell.