Nicolas was asleep. The silhouette he had seen felt like a dream. Meanwhile, Emily was at the training ground, practicing her sword strikes against the training dummies. Since they had won against the swordsman, their first training session was scheduled for tomorrow. She wanted to be prepared.
As she wiped off her sweat and headed to her room, she heard the faint sound of chains. She looked around but saw nothing. Dismissing it, she went to sleep.
In the morning, Nicolas entered the castle dining hall for breakfast. Emily, Harry, and Alex were already seated, surrounded by other students. Nicolas' hair was messy. When he sat down, Harry looked at his face.
"You look like you didn't sleep well."
"I don't know. Last night was strange."
"You should take care of yourself. Training starts today."
Nicolas frowned. "Why am I just hearing about this?"
"Dude, we auditioned, and you even fought the swordsman." Harry scratched his head, realizing his slip.
"I did what?"
Harry leaned in and whispered, "You killed him."
Nicolas' eyes widened. "You said that, but I didn't take it seriously. How?" His voice rose, drawing the attention of the entire dining hall.
Harry sighed. "I don't know. You're hiding something from us, but maybe that's for the best."
Alex remained silent. He and Nicolas had fought the day before. Emily stood up with her tray. "Let's go. Nicolas can catch up later."
The three of them left. Nicolas ate alone.
The training ground was a vast courtyard of grass, enclosed by high stone walls. The morning sun cast a gentle warmth over the stone floors.
When Nicolas arrived, everyone was already lined up. He was the only one late.
A man with a scarred face and worn armor glared at him. "How dare you be late? Discipline is everything. You must be on time."
Nicolas hurried into line, unsure of what to say.
The man's voice was deep and rough. "I'm Quill. I'm a mercenary, assigned to train you. I wield a sword on each hip. Dual swords are usually impractical, but I have the speed and strength to manage them. You, however, will train with a single sword."
He raised his weapon. "Our first lesson is the straight cut. Watch."
With precise form, Quill swung his metal practice sword, delivering a clean strike to the dummy. "Now, your turn. Remember, this is not just training—it's preparation for real battle."
One by one, the trainees took their turns.
Emily's movements were stiff but disciplined. Quill nodded. "Good. You've practiced."
Harry's attempt failed as soon as the sword met the dummy. "Your arms are too weak. How did you pass?" Harry slunk to the back of the line.
Alex took his stance effortlessly. He moved like a natural knight. "Your grip is strong. Now, strike."
Alex swung. The dummy split in two.
Quill grinned. "You're a gem. Get another dummy."
Finally, it was Nicolas' turn. His first attempt was hesitant, but he managed a decent strike.
Quill eyed him. "You need work. I saw you hesitate."
They spent the rest of the day training—sword drills, endurance exercises, and strength-building routines. Quill took notes on each student's performance.
At the end of the session, the rankings were posted. Alex was first. Emily placed fourth. Nicolas was tenth. Harry, struggling the most, was last.
The training had only just begun.