The wolf's face staggered from the blow and leapt into the nearby brush. Mike Bai quickly rose to his feet, grabbed a weapon, and took a defensive stance.
Baron Otto dropped his sword and drew a dagger, stabbing the hungry wolf still clinging to his left hand before rushing back to Mike Bai's side.
Despite maintaining a cautious watch, Otto couldn't help but ask, "Are you alright, Mike Bai?"
After receiving an affirmative response, Otto fell silent once more.
The group quickly dispatched their respective foes and regrouped in a defensive circle. The wolves, suffering continuous losses, howled in frustration. After lingering a moment, they retreated into the darkness.
Padric and Demore stayed vigilant while the others tended to the severely wounded Wilhelm and another soldier by the campfire. Mike Bai hurried to fetch some linen cloths from his wagon to help bind their wounds.
Blood—some of it unclear whether it was from the wolves or Wilhelm—covered Wilhelm, but he didn't seem to care as he grabbed the cloths and began to dress his own injuries.
The soldier, however, had sustained grave wounds and had already fallen unconscious.
Mike Bai wrapped the soldier's wounds, his face a mask of concern as he gazed at the injured man.
"Will he be alright?" Mike Bai asked.
"Child, all we can do now is pray," Otto replied solemnly.
Despite the group's victory over the wolves, the soldier succumbed to his wounds, passing away from blood loss.
The next morning, the group stood solemnly before a simple grave. Wilhelm, bandaged and weary, planted a rudimentary wooden cross as a makeshift headstone. Mike Bai, with his knowledge, temporarily took the role of a priest, reading aloud from the Bible the headmaster had gifted him.
"May his soul find peace in the embrace of the Lord. Amen."
"Amen," the others echoed.
Mike Bai remembered the soldier's name—Frank. He had a wife and two children back home. The day before, Frank had greeted Mike Bai cheerfully; now, he was gone.
For the first time, Mike Bai truly grasped the fragility of life.
After a brief moment of remembrance, the group resumed their journey, but the mood was far more subdued than it had been just days before.
For several consecutive nights, Mike Bai was jolted awake by the howling of wolves, a stark reminder that this dark age was far more perilous than he had ever imagined.
Realizing how fragile his own life was, Mike Bai decided he needed to learn how to defend himself.
One afternoon, while the group was setting up camp, Mike Bai approached Baron Otto with a request: he wanted to learn how to wield a sword.
Otto smiled and nodded, leading Mike Bai to a nearby clearing, where the others gathered to watch.
Otto picked up a wooden stick with his left hand and gestured for Mike Bai to attack.
"Shouldn't I learn some theory or stances first?" Mike Bai asked.
"No need. It's faster to learn with your body," Otto replied.
"What should I use?"
"Anything you want, including your sword," Otto said.
"Won't it hurt...?" Mike Bai hesitated, then thought better of voicing his concern, realizing the difference in their strength.
Mike Bai drew his "Needle," recalling the movies and contests he'd seen in his previous life. He stepped sideways into a half-bow stance, left hand behind him, sword held in his right.
Seeing Mike Bai's stance, Otto laughed even more.
"I don't know where you learned that from."
With a quick leap, Mike Bai lunged toward Otto's right hand.
"But books clearly don't tell you to understand the strengths of each weapon."
Otto sidestepped slightly, extending his wooden stick. Before Mike Bai could reach Otto, the long stick collided with Mike Bai's head with a resounding thud.
Thud! Mike Bai saw stars as he collapsed to the ground.
It took a moment before he realized that Otto's wooden stick was longer than both his arm and sword combined.
Mike Bai tried again, each time being either blocked or sidestepped by Otto, who skillfully kept his distance while the wooden stick preemptively halted any attempt to strike.
"Your arm, combined with the length of your weapon, defines your attack range. Learn to make your opponent fall within your optimal range," Otto explained.
"Against opponents with a longer reach, you either need to increase your own range..."
Mike Bai nodded, picking up a longer stick and charging toward Otto.
"...or reduce theirs."
With a swift slash of his sword, Otto easily cut the front of Mike Bai's stick off.
Mike Bai stared at his half-stick in disbelief.
Smack! Otto gave him another quick whack.
"Don't daze out! Try again!" Otto sheathed his sword.
This time, Mike Bai grabbed an even thicker and longer stick, approaching Otto cautiously.
"Long weapons have their advantages, but short ones have their own too. Short weapons are more nimble and easier to control."
Otto casually swung the back end of his stick at Mike Bai's weapon. The force knocked Mike Bai off balance, making him stumble.
Smack! Another blow.
Mike Bai tossed the stick aside and ran back to his wagon.
"Is this kid really not going to cry?" someone joked.
Ignoring the jeers, Mike Bai grabbed his frying pan (since the shield was too heavy to lift) and returned to the clearing.
This time, Mike Bai used the frying pan to guard his body, sword held low, and carefully circled Otto.
"Learn to use your hands flexibly!" Otto praised with a smile as he swung his wooden stick toward Mike Bai's right side.
Mike Bai crouched slightly and tried to deflect it, but at the last moment, Otto used the scabbard of his sword to strike him from the other side.
"Are you really trying to hit me?" Mike Bai thought, gritting his teeth.
The day's training ended with an overwhelming series of blows. Though Otto had gone easy, Mike Bai's body ached all over.
At dinner, Mike Bai stirred the stew, the aroma of roasted grouse, carrots, and olives filling the air. As usual, Wilhelm was first in line with his plate, eagerly eyeing the pot.
Mike Bai gave him a sweet smile, carefully ladling a generous portion of chicken into Wilhelm's bowl.
"Dear Uncle Wilhelm!" Mike Bai said in a sugary tone.
Wilhelm jumped, startled. "What is it? You know we agreed on 12 silver dinars."
Mike Bai rolled his eyes inwardly but maintained the innocent smile. "Little Mike Bai wants to ask... do you have any special moves? Any kind of secret technique or finishing blow?"
"Huh?" Wilhelm gave him a puzzled look. "There's no such thing."
"But I saw it in... uh, a book," Mike Bai corrected himself just in time. "Two knights, fighting with all their moves, and in the end, the hero uses a finishing move to defeat the villain."
"That's just to trick kids like you!" Wilhelm scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The real fights are over in seconds. He strikes, you block, if you block successfully, you win. If not, he kills you. It's that simple."
"Isn't there a secret to it?"
"Sure. If you're strong enough, that's all you need!" Wilhelm said, chewing on a piece of chicken. "I once fought this so-called sword master, all fancy stances, and I just cut him down with one blow. Strength is what counts."
Hearing the conversation, Padric walked over. "Stop spouting nonsense. That guy was a fake. A real sword master wouldn't be so easily defeated."
Mike Bai turned to the handsome Padric. "Uncle Padric, do you have any tips for using a sword?"
Padric drew his sword and held it across his chest. "Do you understand your sword?"
Mike Bai blinked, confused. Did it have some sort of 'sword and person' fusion?
Padric twirled his sword in his hand and continued, "The point is fast, the blade is steady. Use the blade for defense, and the point for offense. Simple as that."
Mike Bai looked even more confused, so Padric added, "Remember this afternoon? Baron Otto used the back end of the stick to block your stick's front end, right?"
Mike Bai thought back and realized it was true. Now, he understood—leverage theory! Got it.
"Does that mean I just need to use the back of my weapon to block my opponent's weapon to win?"
"Not necessarily," Padric glanced at Wilhelm, "If you run into someone like him, even if you block with the sword's blade, you'll probably still get cleaved in two."
"Hey! You're just jealous!" Wilhelm shouted, full of chicken and sauce.
Ignoring Wilhelm, Padric gestured for Mike Bai to step aside. "Can you draw circles?"
"Draw circles?"
Padric didn't answer, instead motioning for Mike Bai to attack.
Mike Bai drew his sword, took a deep breath, and swung it overhead, aiming for Padric.
In that moment, everything seemed to slow down. Mike Bai could clearly hear the buzzing of forest insects and see the stick's slow descent, even noticing the rough texture of the bark.
This time, I'll win! Mike Bai thought.
Clang! The force wasn't heavy, but it sent a vibration through his sword as the stick slid down the blade. Mike Bai immediately raised the sword's hilt, ready to counter and strike.
Then he noticed the glint of a smile at the corner of Padric's mouth, followed by a surge of force that sent him flying backwards.
Padric had, in that moment, stepped forward, pushing Mike Bai off balance after his defense, and launched a counterattack.
"Child, you still have much to learn!" Otto said, a faint smile crossing his face.