Chereads / Desolate Hope / Chapter 38 - Training

Chapter 38 - Training

The next day, we found ourselves standing before Captain Marcus on the training field, ready for what he called "real training." His stern face barely concealed a hint of pride as he addressed us. "Young masters, from today, we begin your true training. You will learn basic swordsmanship and, eventually, the movement technique of the Shadowstars."

I sighed internally, already anticipating the grind ahead. Training was always Astor's thing; he thrived on it, while I found it more of a necessary burden. But there was no avoiding it if I wanted to progress. Marcus continued speaking, and suddenly, he vanished. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind us. I blinked, trying to make sense of what just happened.

"That," he said, his voice calm but commanding, "is called Shadow Steps. It's your family's signature movement technique. But before you can learn it, you need to master the basics of swordsmanship."

Both Astor and I replied in unison, "Yes, sir." We'd been calling him "sir" since the first day of training. That was how our new routine began—mornings spent practicing magic with grandmother, afternoons learning basic swordsmanship under Marcus's watchful eye, and evenings studying with mother. The days blurred into weeks, then into months.

Eight months passed. Astor and I had become proficient with the sword, much to Marcus's satisfaction. One day, he handed us each a piece of paper with diagrams etched onto them. "Now, you will begin learning the movement technique," he announced. "Here's the diagram for Shadow Steps. Just like you mold your essence for spells, do the same here and combine it with your swordsmanship to move from one place to another."

I studied the diagram, realizing how much easier it had become to mold my essence after all those months of training. Besides our first spells—Lightning Shock for me and Fireball for Astor—I had also learned Thunderclap, which released a shockwave of thunderous energy, disorienting opponents. Astor, in turn, had learned Flame Whip, a fiery lash he could control with deadly precision.

As I molded my essence, I began to follow the movements in the diagram. My body felt lighter, almost like I was gliding. The friction under my feet lessened as if the ground had lost its grip on me. In the blink of an eye, I appeared a few meters away from my original spot. It wasn't true speed like I had imagined; it was more about reducing the friction with the ground. The higher versions of this technique probably did increase speed, but for now, this was enough.

Marcus watched me closely, a satisfied look on his face. "Well done, Master Nyx. Do this a few hundred more times, and you'll be a pro at it." I groaned, the thought of repeating this process over and over draining my enthusiasm. I glanced over at Astor, who had already started his attempt. Naturally, he went farther than I did—maybe a meter or two more. His speed had always been better than mine, and it was no surprise he could cover more distance. His boundless energy never seemed to fade.

Marcus smiled at both of us, clearly pleased with our progress. And so, our training continued, with the new movement technique now added to our routine.

 

Marcus's POV

As I stood on the training field, watching the young masters before me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. The Shadowstar family was known for its formidable magic and swordsmanship, and now it was my responsibility to train these two boys—Nyx and Astor—to uphold that legacy.

"Young masters," I began, my tone firm but respectful, "from today, we will start your real training. You will learn basic swordsmanship and the movement technique of the Shadowstars."

Nyx stood there, his expression calm but I could see a hint of reluctance. He's always been the quieter, more contemplative one. I know he finds this kind of physical training a hassle, but he doesn't complain. He'll do it because he knows he has to. Astor, on the other hand, was practically bouncing with energy. That boy thrives on action. It's clear in the way he stands—ready for anything, eager to prove himself.

To demonstrate, I decided to show them a taste of what they would one day master. I activated the family's signature movement technique, Shadow Steps. One moment, I was standing before them, and the next, I vanished, reappearing behind them in the blink of an eye. The look on their faces—especially Nyx's—was worth it. Even he couldn't hide his amazement.

"This is Shadow Steps," I explained. "But before you can learn this, you need to master the basics of swordsmanship."

They both responded in sync, "Yes, sir." It was good to see that, despite their differences, they were united in their resolve. From the first day, they'd been respectful, calling me "sir" without hesitation. That kind of discipline was a good sign.

For the next eight months, we focused on the fundamentals. Every day was a grind, but they were learning fast. Nyx, despite his initial reluctance, had become proficient with the sword. His technique was precise, methodical. Astor, as expected, picked things up quickly, relying more on his raw energy and speed. But what surprised me was the way they both pushed through the exhaustion, never giving up. Nyx, even when he thought I wasn't looking, put in the extra effort. Astor, always the more boisterous one, would try to push his limits just for the fun of it.

Then, when the time was right, I handed them each a piece of paper with diagrams on it. "Now, you will begin learning the movement technique," I told them. "This is the diagram for Shadow Steps. Just like with spells, mold your essence and combine it with your swordsmanship to move from one point to another."

Nyx studied the diagram intently. I could see his mind working, analyzing every detail before he even attempted it. That's how he's always been—methodical. He molded his essence, and in no time, he was moving across the field, though not quite as far as he would with more practice. His steps were lighter, frictionless, as if the ground itself was letting him glide.

"Well done, Master Nyx," I said, impressed. "Do this a few hundred times more, and you'll be a pro at it."

He groaned, and I had to suppress a chuckle. He always acted like the training was more trouble than it was worth, but I knew better. He enjoyed succeeding, even if he didn't want to admit it.

Astor, as usual, was determined to match his brother. When he tried the technique, his natural speed carried him even farther than Nyx—no surprise there. The boy's energy was boundless, always eager to outdo himself.

I smiled to myself as I watched them. These two were different in many ways, but their potential was undeniable. They had their own strengths, and with time, they would complement each other perfectly.

"Now," I said, "let's continue."