Logan woke early again, as had become his routine. His body ached, a dull reminder of the relentless training he had undergone. After dressing quickly, he stepped outside, inhaling the crisp morning air. Today was another day to push himself, to grow stronger.
Ulrik was already waiting for him in the courtyard, leaning against his massive axe. He grinned when he saw Logan approach.
"Ready for more, boy?" Ulrik asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Logan nodded. "Always."
"Good. Today, we're working with the axe and shield."
Ulrik handed Logan a medium-sized round shield and a one-handed axe. The weight was unfamiliar, and Logan adjusted his grip awkwardly.
"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" Ulrik said, smirking.
Logan grimaced. "Guess I'll find out."
---
They squared off in the training yard, Ulrik moving with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior. His shield seemed to be an extension of his body, and his axe moved with terrifying precision.
Logan lunged forward, aiming a cautious strike at Ulrik's side. The older warrior deflected it effortlessly with his shield, the clang of metal ringing out.
"Too slow," Ulrik barked. "Keep your movements tighter. Don't overcommit, or you'll leave yourself open."
Logan adjusted, trying to keep his strikes shorter and more controlled. He aimed for Ulrik's shoulder, but the shield came up again, slamming into Logan's axe and sending him stumbling backward.
"Use your shield!" Ulrik barked. "It's not just for defense—it's a weapon."
Taking the advice, Logan pushed forward again, this time ramming his shield into Ulrik's, creating an opening to swing his axe. The blade clanged against Ulrik's shield edge, but Logan could feel he was making progress.
Ulrik grinned. "Better. Again."
They sparred for what felt like hours, sweat dripping from Logan's brow. By the end, his arms felt like lead, but he had begun to understand the balance between the axe and shield.
---
After a brief break, Logan was led to another part of the yard where Sigurd awaited him, his two axes gleaming in the sunlight.
"Ready to get your ass handed to you again?" Sigurd asked with a feral grin.
Logan smirked. "I'm ready to learn."
Sigurd handed Logan a second axe, and Logan took a moment to adjust to the weight. He had never trained with two weapons before, and the unfamiliarity was immediately apparent.
Sigurd wasted no time, launching into an aggressive flurry of strikes. Logan barely managed to block the first few, his arms crossing awkwardly as he tried to keep up.
"You're thinking too much," Sigurd growled. "Dual axes are about instinct. Fluidity. Stop trying to control every movement—let them flow."
Logan took a deep breath and tried to follow the advice. He loosened his grip slightly, letting the axes move more freely. When Sigurd came at him again, Logan found himself able to parry more effectively, though he still couldn't land a clean hit.
After a particularly vicious exchange, Logan stepped back, panting. "How do you make it look so easy?"
Sigurd grinned. "Years of practice. And a lot of bloodshed. But it's not just about swinging harder—it's about understanding your weapons. Axes are extensions of your arms. Learn their rhythm."
Logan's curiosity piqued, and he began asking questions about technique, stance, and strategy. Sigurd answered with surprising patience, explaining the intricacies of fighting with two axes.
"Watch your balance," Sigurd said, demonstrating a quick sequence of attacks. "And don't forget—two axes give you twice the options. Use them."
By the end of the session, Logan felt a newfound respect for the complexity of dual-wielding. His arms were screaming in protest, but he couldn't wait to practice more.
---
When dinner came, Logan practically collapsed into his seat. Emery was already there, looking more rested than she had the night before.
"Rough day?" she asked, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"Something like that," Logan replied, his voice hoarse.
Dinner was brought out, and Logan's plate once again held a modest portion of meat alongside vegetables. He glanced at the lieutenants' plates, still envious of their massive steaks.
Ulrik caught his look and chuckled. "Be grateful for what you have, boy. You're not ready for the real stuff yet."
Yrsa grinned. "One bite, and you'd probably explode."
Logan rolled his eyes but dug into his meal, too hungry to argue.
---
After dinner, Logan followed Vidal to the same room as the night before. The Magi was as energetic as ever, diving straight into another lecture.
"Tonight, we're expanding on what we started," Vidal said, pulling out another stack of papers. "But first, meditation."
Logan groaned inwardly but sat down, closing his eyes as Vidal instructed. He focused on his breathing, trying to clear his mind, but once again, he felt nothing.
"You're trying too hard," Vidal said. "Relax. Mana isn't something you can force—it's something you allow yourself to perceive."
Despite Vidal's encouragement, Logan's session ended the same way: with no tangible progress.
"Don't worry," Vidal said. "This is normal. Keep practicing, and it'll come."
They moved on to array work, with Vidal explaining more complex designs and their applications. Logan's hand ached from drawing, but he pushed through, determined to absorb as much as he could.
By the end of the lesson, Logan was exhausted but felt a small spark of satisfaction. He was learning, slowly but surely.
---
When Logan returned to his room, Emery was waiting for him again.
"You look like death," she said, though her tone was light.
"Feel like it too," Logan replied, collapsing onto the bed. "What about you?"
"Freya had me learning about diseases today," Emery said. "It's… a lot to take in. But I think I'm starting to get it."
Logan nodded. "We'll figure it out. One step at a time."
As Emery left for her room, Logan lay back, his body aching but his mind racing. They were both growing stronger, and for the first time, he felt like they might just have a chance in this strange, dangerous world.