With a heave, John lifted the weighty sword. Marleya, a Paladin, wielded it as if it were, well, her sword. Simply lifting it was already a struggle for him. He gripped the handle with both hands and settled the weapon atop the table as gently as he could manage. The furniture creaked due to the large weight.

Besides the wooden table at its center, the room also had an armor stand at the corner where Marleya’s armor stood; a rare sight considering how much she preferred to wear it when outside. There were no windows at the room, the single light source coming from a lonely lightstone at the ceiling. A simple bed occupied the corner opposite to the armor stand, with a bronze medal at the nightstand. Engraved in the metal were the words, “Marleya Bryne, 5th place at her 6th year's King's Tourney, 7,839 AU.”

That was it for the room’s furniture. Marleya certainly had the coin, and status, to get better accommodations, but she preferred practicality above all else. The only thing that she saw as a luxury was the room’s soundproofing, but John considered it a must given how near to the training grounds her room was. Most of her spendings went towards her and her horse's equipment.

While she paid for it, as her squire, John was the one responsible for the actual busywork. Every day he oiled her sword, her armor, and tidied her room. Those were his daily tasks as a squire. When outside, he’d also be expected to feed the horses and prepare their food, but here in the castle, the stablehands and kitchen staff took care of it.

After settling the sword on the table, he drenched a piece of cloth on oil and started rubbing the blade’s steely white length. Done with one side, he then raised it from the handle, keeping the tip against the table, and rotated it to work on the other side. The whole process felt tedious, and he had to pay attention to not brush against the blade’s edge by accident. That razor would slice through his hand as if it were butter.

Done with the sword, he sheathed and placed the weapon besides the armor, where it originally was. After making sure that everything was in order, he opened the door, the training grounds' noise reaching him as soon as he did so.

The training grounds looked as well as any other day. Men and women tested their skills either against one another or the training dummies. Most of them were Crusaders already, but there were some exceptions such as Harden, a tenth level Fighter.

Instead of Marleya overseeing the training, her role was being half-heartedly performed by a balding man wearing the town’s guard armor. Or rather, considering that he was one of the sergeants, she did his work every once in a while. John didn’t know why she did so, but he knew that none of the sergeants had any problem with her doing their work for them.

He walked to the weapon rack, grabbed a wooden sword, and looked for another Fighter to spar with. Most of those present were commoners, and whatever distaste they could have had for his ancestry was offset by a sense of camaraderie for being Marleya’s squire.

Whenever present, she worked them all to the bone. As her squire, that was particularly true to him, so they all sympathized. She didn’t train John as hard as his own mother did, but she did work him for longer. While a wrong move against his mother often resulted in a bruise, a wrong move against Marleya resulted in him repeating it until he got it right.

Harden, John’s first choice for a sparring partner, was currently being trounced by Romarn, an even larger man wielding a greatsword. Rud seemed available, but he wouldn't accept sparring again after John hit him in the head the other day. In John's defense, Marleya did warn the man to raise the shield

“Looking for a partner?” Neina asked, taking a break from beating on the training dummy.

She had long black hair held in place by a blue headband and wore the same grey armor as everyone else.

“Sure,” John answered with a nod. “Know anyone I can spar with?”

Neina raised an eyebrow. “Uhh, me?”

“Oh, in that case, I’d rather go against the training dummy,” John teased. “It can make me sweat, at least.”

She laughed. “Big talk for the Barefoot Squire,” she said, mentioning how John became known after his first appearance at the training grounds a week ago. John didn’t care for the nickname, but figured that it was better than being called a—

“Half-bred, stop bothering the lady,” spoke an unpleasant voice.

John didn’t even need to turn to know who it was. “Good morning, Jacke. I was just about to ask Neina to spar with me. Perhaps you’d like to take her place instead so we can have a rematch.”

Jacke strutted to get by Neina’s side. “As if I’d waste my time fighting a cheating savage such as yourself.” He dismissively waved a hand at John as a master would do to a slave. He looked nothing like he had been writhing on the dirt after John beat him to a pulp a few days back.

As Marleya predicted, her former squire didn’t like being substituted by a “dirty, uncultured, half-bred,” as he put it. He strode into the training grounds with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and extremely punchable face, accompanied by bodyguards and demanding a duel to repair his injured honor. His honor was the least of his injuries after John was done with him.

Jacke’s ego hardly translated into fighting prowess, and John literally ran circles around the arrogant fool. John’s wooden swords connected to the man’s ribs, shoulder, arms, knee, and lastly mouth when he finally fell to the ground. His bodyguards didn’t like it one bit and looked ready to jump on John. Marleya drew her sword and they changed their minds real fast, instead choosing to carry Jacke away.

She didn’t forget to punish John for striking an opponent while they were down, but he found it a worthy tradeoff for making sure that the noble wouldn’t bother him again. He didn’t count on the man’s complete lack of shame.

Jacke claimed that he would've won if not for John hitting him while he was down. Anyone with half-a-brain who watched the duel knew that it was already over after the first clash of weapons, and yet the noble stuck to his story. The man was a month short of nineteen years old, still a Fighter despite being a noble, and yet he found no better use of his time other than pestering John.

John would love for another duel; not in hopes of sending him away, John already gave up on that, but for the pleasure of beating him up once again. Unfortunately, commoners couldn't challenge nobles to a duel, and Jacke learned his lesson about trying to duel John.

“Now, be a good half-bred and bugger off,” Jacke said while shooing John off. “Your better has something very important to talk about with this...” He looked Neina up and down. “...beautiful lady.”

Neina's lips twitched as she forced herself not to snap back at the noble. “I'm deeply sorry milord, but I need to focus on my training if I hope to make it into the town's guard.”

“Forget about it, that leads nowhere,” he said without a care for his volume or the angry gazes that it drew. “If you come with me, I promise you'll be earning double of however much you'd be earning from this. Besides, I'll become even more famous after enrolling at the academy and winning the King’s Tourney. When that comes to be, there'll be no better job than working under me.” He licked his lips.

Whatever restraint Neina had seemed ready to fail when Marleya finally arrived, marching into the place. “My lord, I’d ask that you don't get in the way of their training.”

Jacke straightened up, trying to look like he hadn't been caught red-handed. “Dame Marleya, I was simply discussing a job opportunity with miss Ina.” The idiot didn't even know her name.

Marleya nodded along with his words. “That sounds marvelous, I'm sure that my lord's parents and bride must be thrilled about you going around propositioning women again. Perhaps I should tell them the next time we meet.”

“T-That won't be necessary, I'm sorry miss Ina,” he said before scuttling off with a tail between his legs.

“I wish I was able to make him run away like that,” John commented.

“Same,” Neina said before remembering the knight standing by their side. “I-I mean—”

“I am of the same mind. He's mostly harmless, as John can attest to, but by Alella is he annoying. Now, I need to talk to my squire and you should be focusing on improving that sword arm of yours.”

“Yes, of course.” Neina gave a quick bow and went looking for another sparring partner on the other side of the training grounds.

“Thanks for helping with Jacke,” John said. “Where were you by the way?”

“In a meeting with lord Hagen and lady Athalia. Did you finish your tasks?” Receiving a nod in response, she then continued. “Good. You've been with me for a week now, so I figured it's time to get you some proper equipment.”