In the dimly lit Windmill Tower, several youths idly talked about the unforgettable scenes they had witnessed during the day.
Leaning against the wall, Azeryan rested his head on his arms, gazing out the window at the night sky with a sigh, "Miss Olivia is truly a genius in swordsmanship."
He lamented without an ounce of exaggeration.
"Yeah," Lokhak thought of his sister, whose whereabouts were still unknown, and his voice grew heavy, "If only I had her martial arts talent back then, maybe I could have protected my family."
"Even without her bewildering genius, as long as you're determined, you'll be fine in the future. After all, we're also still young. Diligence can make up for deficiencies," Leon consoled.
"Hmm, you're right," Lokhak nodded and turned towards him, "Let's go talk to Olivia again tomorrow, I want to ask her for some swordsmanship guidance, to give me some pointers."
"She probably won't refuse, but we can't stay here for another two days, and in such a short time, what can you really learn?" Leon said.
"Exchanging skills with a master always has some benefits and insights... that's what my father used to tell me." There was a hint of sadness in Lokhak's eyes; his sister was somewhere in Kantadar waiting for him, and he didn't want to miss any chance to improve his abilities quickly.
"Speaking of which, among us, you are the best with a sword. Tell me, if you were to fight Olivia, how many moves do you think you could last under her sword?" Leon asked curiously.
"A few moves?" Lokhak's eyebrow twitched, and he gave an awkward smile as he scratched his cheek.
"Leon, you think too highly of me..."
...
Clap—!
Lokhak's hands were forced down again, hit one more time.
His wrist was pinned again by the wooden stick symbolizing a swordblade, but the force was just enough to stop short.
If it hadn't been for that restriction, even a wooden stick could have fractured his wrist with that strike.
"Beautiful," Leon once again expressed admiration for that decisive blow under the cool shade of the Windmill Mill Tower.
The golden-haired girl retract her stick, blue-green eyes looking somewhat anxious as she watched the heavily sweating Lokhak and suggested kindly, "Maybe you should take a break."
"Ah," the tall youth lowered his hands and took a deep breath, nodding in complete agreement.
Too strong, she was simply not on the same level.
Leon stepped forward, handing a cleaned cloth to his friend to wipe his sweat, and couldn't resist teasing, "How does it feel? Did you learn anything from the bout?"
Lokhak immediately smiled wryly, "After so many rounds, I didn't touch her once. I've learned quite a lot about taking a beating. You've watched long enough, why don't you give it a try?"
"I'd like to, but we ought to let her rest too," Leon looked towards the girl, her cheeks not even flushed and her breath still completely undisturbed, "Thank you for being willing to take time out to join our fooling around."
"It's no problem," Olivia chuckled, shaking her head, "This is far from tiring for me and much more fun and relaxing than farm work."
It was a plain truth. Aside from seizing the chance when her father was free, there was no one else in the village with the ability and time to spar with her.
Taking the wooden stick from Lokhak, Leon positioned himself and stood relaxed in front of the girl.
"Ready?" Olivia lifted her hands with a smile, taking the "Key" stance.
"Anytime," Leon, fully focused, watched her every move intently.
He paid more attention to her shoulders and feet, giving up on trying to catch her hands' movements.
Previous lessons were plenty; he knew he couldn't react fast enough to her lightning-fast swordsmanship.
At this point, even if he could just land a double hit, he would consider it a victory!
This time Leon decided to strike first.
Stepping forward with his left leg as a feint, Leon sidestepped half a step and then suddenly accelerated his body.
Swinging the stick with full force, he dared not relax or hold back at all.
Facing this monstrous sword prodigy from the mountain village, if he harbored any fear of hurting her, that would be truly foolish and arrogant.
The stick, swiped ferociously at an angle, aimed at the girl.
Leon's eyes stayed on Olivia's shoulders.
Motion!
Without time to weigh or judge in his head, Leon shifted his body at top speed, tilting forward the stick from left to right, rerouting it into a downward chop!
But the anticipated trajectory of the attack was completely missed; Leon's swung stick didn't catch up to the girl's agile body.
Olivia, who moved as if in a waltz, had already glided beside him.
The diagonal chop barely touched Leon's neck, the girl retracting her stick along with her stepping completely to Leon's left side.
In real combat, even if this wasn't a beheading, it would have been a throat-opening, neck-breaking move.
Stopping his attack, Leon raised his hand to acknowledge defeat with regret.
His swordsmanship was far inferior to Lokhak's, not to mention this genius girl before him.
"How did you break through my attack? Did you see right through my intention to die together with you from the very beginning?" Leon put down the stick in his hand and humbly asked for guidance.
To tell the truth, sparring is not the same as actual combat, where one doesn't face death or serious injury, and the instructors from the Sword Hall in his previous life also said that purposely ignoring deadly damage during practice sword fights, forcing a double kill scenario with the opponent, is actually a form of cheating.
That is not victory, but instead, it causes the practice of techniques to lose their fundamental meaning.
But even with such shameless assumption that he was willing to die in a bid for a double kill, Leon still hadn't managed to touch Olivia, not even a hair.
What made it even more disheartening for him was that the girl seemed to handle it all with remarkable ease.
"Um, I noticed that your initial step was not steady, and although your center of gravity was on the left, you were still moving to the right. Therefore, no matter where your second step was placed—front, back, left, or right—your leg position was limited to only those few spots..." Olivia pointed to the ground in front of Leon with her wooden stick and meticulously explained her thoughts and counteractions.
Leon listened quietly, trying his best to understand the girl's reasoning.
She had seen his intentions clearly from the start, so countering him was simple and straightforward.
Since the opponent intended to attack from the right, she decided to go along with it and simply keep turning in circles; after all, her opponent willingly exposed his left side.
Saying this, Olivia somewhat apologetically added, "Or should I go slower? I'm really sorry. I usually practice swordsmanship alone and really don't know how to coach others."
Leon waved his hand in gratitude: "You've already been very conscientious in teaching, Olivia. If we still don't understand, then that's our own problem."
The two returned to their starting positions, raised their wooden sticks, and continued on to the next exchange.
On the open ground beneath the Windmill Mill, the clack-clack sounds of striking resonated anew.
Beheadings, arm severing, slicing the waist, piercing through the chest...
Had it been real combat, Leon and his companions would have died countless times over.
But until the very end, they hadn't managed to land a single hit on Olivia...
When the day's exchange of swordsmanship ended, as a thanks for her guidance, Leon once again lent the splendid Dwarf Steel Longsword for Olivia to play with.
The three who had been hit many times by sticks were resting against the wall of the mill, watching the golden-haired girl's sword dance, while discussing the time of their departure.
"Are you leaving the day after tomorrow?"
Olivia let down the splendid long sword from her hand, looking at the several newly acquainted friends by her side, and couldn't help feeling regret.
"Yes, we've also bought all the supplies we need from the village. If we don't leave now, your father will have opinions about us," Leon replied helplessly.
"Ah... it's just like my father," Olivia crossed her arms and propped her cheek, incapable of influencing her father's decisions.
She genuinely felt that these friends from outside had no ill will towards Selva Village, and couldn't understand her father's attitude toward Leon and his companions.
With a decisive clap of her hands, the girl suddenly said, "Get up early tomorrow, I'll come over in the morning to practice with you guys. Let's use the last day to learn a few sword techniques I've come up with, as a parting gift."
Leon, of course, was very willing to accept the girl's kind coaching: "Then I hope you'll go easy on us tomorrow."
After chatting for a while and noticing it was getting late, the golden-haired girl returned the treasured sword and bid farewell to everyone.
Olivia cheerfully hummed a tune on her way back to the village.
But as soon as she arrived near her home, she encountered a face that she found annoying.
Her expression instantly turned cold.
"You've been getting pretty close with those outsiders these past few days."
Boris commented with a sarcastic, insincere smirk.
He maliciously speculated whether she had taken a fancy to those young lads from outside the village, but remembering the pain that still lingered on his hand, Boris wisely held his tongue.
"What's it to you?" Olivia said, walking past this despicable person without even sparing him a glance.
Boris spun around, irritated by the girl's attitude.
"You lent the Lord's old Mill Tower to them? The village gave your father custody of the keys, not for him to do charity work for these suspicious outsiders! When my father returns, I'm going to tell him!"
Olivia stopped in her tracks, turned her head, and looked at him with resignation.
"That mill has been abandoned for so many years, and besides, it's not like other travelers haven't stayed there before. You don't need to make an issue where there is none. Besides, they will be departing the day after tomorrow."
Having said that, she didn't intend to continue the conversation, but after a few steps, the girl still stopped and sighed, without turning her head she warned:
"Just to remind you, Boris, even if I didn't intervene in your base behavior the day before yesterday, with your pathetic skills, each of them could easily kill you... stop making trouble for yourself."
Considering that Uncle Tuck, his father, was a decent person, Olivia restrained her disgust and said no more.
...Grinding his teeth as he watched the girl's figure gradually disappear around the corner, Boris's face twitched.
He felt the bulky envelope in his pocket, a sinister chill in his eyes: "...This was originally prepared for you, you little bitch, but once I get that sword, I'll be able to buy much more from them."
Then, looking towards the northern hillside, he turned and walked towards his home.
His father being a village official, he was sure there would be a key to that old mill tower in the house as well.