Panting heavily, I kept swinging my sword in the same stance, repeating each move a hundred times. This was my final set, and my strength was nearly gone. Each motion felt harder than the last, my arms trembling with exhaustion, sweat streaming down my brow.
"Stop slouching, boy! Straighten your back!" came the stern voice of the old man as he slapped my back, stroking his goat-like beard with a smug satisfaction. It seemed he took great pleasure in my struggles, as if his goal was to grind me into the ground.
Physical training had been part of my past life, but now, in the body of a seven-year-old boy, I was painfully aware of how challenging it was. My muscles were underdeveloped, and this young body wasn't used to such strain. In this world, much of a child's focus was on developing a magical core rather than physical strength.
"This is only the first week of training, and you're already spent. I had hoped you'd use those three rest days more wisely," the old man chided, his disappointed sigh making his disapproval clear
Despite his words, I kept my grip firm on the sword, trying to sync my movements with mana absorption. It was no easy task; physical and magical training required different approaches. But I knew that if I wanted to become stronger, I'd have to merge the two.
Each time the blade cut through the air, I visualized a flow of energy moving through my magic channels, slowly but steadily purifying them.
"Don't just swing with your arms," the old man continued, circling me like a predator. "Feel your whole body, every breath and movement, the weight of each muscle and the length of your sword. The sword should be an extension of your body!"
His words echoed in my mind. Feel my whole body. Feel each breath. Feel…
Feel how, with each inhale, I absorb mana into my core, and with each exhale, direct mana from my core. This was a crucial step in training, not only for mastering the sword. Yet, for now, all my attempts seemed clumsy.
I swung again, striving to control the mana while moving. It felt like I was wielding a heavy club instead of a sword. Sweat blurred my vision, but I kept going.
"That's it! A few more tries, and you'll understand true strength!" the old man muttered approvingly, evidently noticing my effort.
Then something inside me clicked. Suddenly, I felt a faint surge of energy, as if mana was finally responding to my movements. The sword felt slightly lighter, and my arms moved with a bit more ease. It was a fleeting sensation, but I caught it.
"Look at that, you've got the face of someone who's just had a revelation," he remarked with a raised eyebrow. I allowed myself a small smile, breathing heavily but with a sense of satisfaction. This was just the first step, but I knew now that I was on the right path. Eventually, rotating mana would become second nature.
The old man approached and patted my shoulder.
"Alright, that's enough for now," he said more gently. "Rest up. In two hours, we'll spar."
I sat down, setting the sword beside me. My muscles burned with fatigue, but a lingering energy pulsed within me from that brief moment of connection with mana.
"Sparring?" I asked, a bit surprised. "You want me to fight after this?"
He just chuckled, stroking his beard again.
"Of course, kid. There are no breaks in a real fight. If you can't learn to fight at your limits, then the battlefield isn't for you. You want to get strong, don't you?"
I nodded silently. He was right. Despite the exhaustion and weakness, I knew this was only the beginning. Real battles wouldn't allow for pauses or rest. In a world where magic and swords decided fates, only those ready to be tested would survive.
"Alright," I said, wiping the sweat from my face. "I'm ready."
He smirked again and stepped back, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my worn-out body.
I lay on the grass, looking up at the sky as a cool breeze washed over my face. Two hours... That should be enough to recover a bit.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the internal flow of energy. Each breath was aimed at restoring strength; each exhale was meant to clear my mind of fatigue. Soon, another trial awaited, and I couldn't afford any indulgences.
"Luci…" Opening my eyes, I saw Tess leaning over me, pushing her silver hair behind her ear as she looked down.
"Oh, princess…" I began, only to receive a smack on my forehead from the side of her hand. Even her usual light smack felt lethal at this moment.
"I told you not to call me that," she scowled, puffing her cheeks like a hamster. How adorable!
"Alright, alright, sorry," I chuckled, watching her reaction, and suddenly felt an urge to tease this little bundle of cuteness more. "What if I call you 'my princess'?"
Her cheeks flushed, her brows rose, and she slapped my forehead again.
"Ouch, that hurt!" I said, rubbing my forehead as I sat up.
She crossed her arms and huffed, though her rosy cheeks still betrayed her embarrassment.
"Stop teasing me, Luci! You're such a child!" she said, stomping her foot, but her expression softened, and a glimmer of kindness sparkled in her eyes.
"Says the crybaby," I smirked, still rubbing my forehead. "I thought we were meeting after training. Why so early?"
Tess hesitated for a moment, as if gathering her words.
"I just wanted to check on you… see how your training is going," she replied, looking away, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "I was worried."
Her words made me smile. Despite her pride and her desire to seem strong, her care shone through. If she doesn't get charmed by some prince and keeps worrying about me like this, I'll definitely marry this cutie.
I chuckled at my thoughts. Tess wasn't just adorable but also strong and determined in her own way. She always tried to stay in control, even when her childish side showed through these cute little outbursts. But no matter how confident she was, her care for those close to her sparkled through her actions.
"What are you thinking about?" Tess squinted, noticing my pleased smile.
"Just thinking how cute you are when you're worried," I teased lightly.
"Stop it!" she blushed, her face turning red again. "You're teasing me again!"
"Alright, alright," I laughed as she turned away, pouting.
I knew she'd face many challenges in the future if she became a Legacy, but for now, I wanted to enjoy these simple moments—with someone who truly cared.
The two hours flew by with Tess, and soon, I stood in a fighting stance opposite Virion. He held a wooden sword, rolling his shoulders in preparation. I could see his slightly skeptical look as he gripped the wooden weapon, his face showing a mix of expectation and experienced evaluation that made my heart race faster.
"Well, Luci?" His voice was calm and casual, an amused grin playing on his face. "Ready to show me what you learned in those two hours? Or did you spend them just fooling around with my granddaughter?"
I gave him a lopsided smile as my eye twitched, seeing how he always laughed at his own old man jokes. In my past life, my grandpa was the same way. Are all old men like this?
"Of course, gramps," I replied, trying to hide my awkwardness with a grin. "You always said training isn't just sweat and blood, but fun, too."
He laughed, clearly pleased with my lighthearted spirit, his beard shaking along with him.
"Well then," he said, calming down, "let's see what you've learned in your first lesson. Show me your skills."
I nodded, focusing on my breathing and composure. Virion was a seasoned master, with decades of battle experience.
The old man lifted his sword, making a few light, sweeping motions in the air to warm up. It was like watching a tiger preparing to pounce. I knew this sparring wouldn't be easy, but it was in these trials that I could truly test my abilities. I also knew that expecting Virion to hold back to the best of his abilities would be a death wish.
As he stopped and looked at me, Virion raised his sword and advanced. His movements were lightning-fast, and I barely managed to react to the first blow. Blocking his wooden sword, I felt a sharp jab on my shoulder.
Damn! I feel like a sandbag! I blocked his strikes, but every third one inevitably landed on me.
This old man attacked and pressed me, relying solely on his speed. I was only able to stay on my feet because I had better perception than other elves. This turned out to be a distinctive trait of our family, passed down to both my sister and me. Though I wouldn't say this perception was exceptionally strong.
Concentrating on every movement of my body to avoid mistakes, I responded to his attacks with blocks and dodges. I felt the fatigue building up again, coming over me with even more intensity, and bit my lip to continue the sparring. If I gave up, I'd never be able to defeat stronger opponents.
After about ten minutes of being beaten by a wooden sword, I began to notice certain patterns in my grandfather's attacks. He was repeating the same movements he used in warm-ups, as if giving me a hint at the start.
When Virion once again flashed past me and delivered a horizontal strike to my legs, I sensed it was my chance. Using all the mana I had accumulated, I focused it in my legs and leapt, aiming to strike the old man's head. My sword was directed right at the target, but Virion was not only fast but extremely observant as well.
As soon as I jumped, he instantly shifted his position. The old man was already prepared for my counterattack and quickly bent down to dodge, simultaneously turning to meet my advance. His reaction was lightning-fast, and he parried my blow, throwing me off balance and nearly causing me to fall.
"You're becoming predictable, Luci!" he shouted, quickly landing a strike on my side. I managed to deflect his attack, but the force of the blow made me step back.
I jumped back, breathing heavily. Each movement was getting harder, and the fatigue was beginning to accumulate. But I couldn't let myself stop. I knew that to improve my skills and achieve my goals, I had to keep fighting and analyzing Virion's every move.
Following his movements, I began to notice that he really was using the same techniques with slight variations. This was my advantage, and I decided to focus on these patterns. Gradually, I started to react better to his attacks and find moments for counterattacks.
"Come on, Luci! Don't give up!" Virion shouted, watching my efforts. His voice was full of encouragement and support. "Keep using your mana, remember what you've learned!"
Once again, I focused mana in my legs and made a sharp lunge forward, delivering a strike, counting on his delayed reaction. This time, my strike landed, and I felt the wood of Virion's sword slide across my arm but not cause any critical damage. The old man stepped back, impressed by my efforts.
"Well done!" he said, smiling in approval. "See how much you've improved? Keep working on this, and soon your skills will match mine."
I caught my breath, feeling the tension start to fade. My body was exhausted, but the inner satisfaction from the progress I had made helped me cope with the fatigue.
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