After thinking about it for a few moments, I decided to retain the magic manual for now. I had Sepyre solve several questions for me, and I should be present for Angelique when they arise.

{Oh well, and it's better to monitor when she uses even the weakest and most inoffensive spell.} In truth, I was perfectly aware that the girl would not do anything crazy as I would (and did when I found out that I could summon a flame), but safety first. Yeah, safety. Let's forget about me running in Sepyre's space with the [Flint] spell active in hand to try and light a cigarette, heh.

Our mornings were developing into a routine, and I was glad for it. The girls had set out into the unknown, and I was ignorant about a lot, but the family-like breakfast each morning showed that we had something. Not that I could define that something.

In any case, after washing, eating, and talking for a bit, I was ready to start my day, one meant to be of training.

The girls had no plans, at least the ones they told me about, so I chose to ask them to buy a few things for me if they went out. And while not the best way to hand them money, it was the only one to make sure Kierra took it. Plus, I did require a few things, mostly paper, as I was down to a few sheets by now.

***

Aison did not mention any specific hour for our meeting, but as he said, "All Day," I think it was safe to go right after breakfast.

After asking the usual pair of guards at the Guild's entrance, I found that the training grounds were located behind the left-side warehouses and made my way there.

"Morning. Even if I did not say the exact time, you are right on time." Aison greeted me with that without even turning around. And making me wonder how he knew it was me and not one of the half-hundred people of the Guild.

"Morning, and I am glad to hear that." I mean, I suppose I am. The training was something I decided upon, and Aison did look like a capable teacher (and his skills confirmed it). Plus, being late was something to avoid, especially with people that can kick your ass.

Aison turned around and then pointed towards a box on the edge of the sandy yard, which was nothing more than a simple hundred square meters of open terrain tucked in between the walls of the warehouses and the Guild's compound ones.

Assuming he meant to open it, I approached and did it, finding several wooden swords inside. There were at least twenty of them of different sizes, but all looked of the same two-edged straight blade type as the swords I had seen until now.

"Find one which weight feels comfortable for you. Gris mentioned you aren't weak, so look at the bottom where the heaviest ones are." Aison explained after I threw him a questioning glance.

"Got it." While I checked on the swords, I could not help but think that this was some test. After all, some were directly heavy, near five or six kg. And based on my ideas from before actually wielding a sword, I would have chosen one of them. There were some longer than a meter. And if not for having seen how Gris and others fought, I could have gone after the longest. As indeed, the logic for the idiots is always [Heavy is strong, big is better].

After comparing a few, I at last found one similar in size to the one I bought on the previous day, and its weight wasn't above two kg either.

"This one."

"Good. Gris told me that you have some battle experience but never fought with a sword, right? Still, she mentioned that you learned at least something about swords, so before teaching or showing anything, swing it a few times, as if you are fighting someone in front." Aison's words made me wonder just how and when Gris managed to learn, glean, and then share about me and swords. After all, I never talked about learning weapons at all!

***

All of the knowledge I gained via books while spending time in Sepyre's own space was hypothetical. And it came from a mix of her own knowledge, at least for the most part. For the sword part the books consisted of explanations of stances and techniques. So while not enough to be said for a course, I did learn the basics.

Now, recalling those basics with the wooden sword in hand, I moved my right foot half a step forward and slightly lowered myself. The torso was half-turned, and the sword held in what was called a shoulder parry, or basically with the pommel near my chest level, but separate enough to not restrict movement.

"Footwork and guards are for combat. For now, swing away." Aison instructed, but as he did not comment on anything else, I assumed I didn't look entirely like a moron.

I had read about eight types of attacks, so eight swings were what I showed. I was no master of the basics, but at least I wanted it to look as something more-or-less correct, not the crazed movie-like swinging.

The head (from above);

The shoulders (above to the side and about a 45° angle);

The torso or gut attacks (from the sides, horizontal);

The legs (sides, angled down);

A thrust (contrary to the myth, it's not with the point but with the edge near it!);

I had not even noticed when Aison took a wooden sword in hand or how did he assume a relaxed guard (or lack of it) just a meter to my side.

"Hmm, you have some degree of control, but all that attacks are only good for showing off. But at least it gives me an idea of what you lack. Now, attack me." He made a motion with his sword as if inviting, and well, I complied.

And that was the begging of hell. Aison only allowed me to attack thrice before beginning to counterattack, all while commenting on what I was doing wrong.

-------

"Wrong, you don't notify the opponent of your attack. Avoid preparation and let the sword flow to its position only to release right away.

Don't add your weight behind each strike. Only do so when going for a decisive one. Otherwise, you will lose footing.

A parry is your last resort, and it is not with the middle part. That only gives me a chance to knock it out of the way, or if I had a heavier sword to snap your's in half. Only parry with the lower third.

Rhythm is good, but don't maintain the same one if you don't want your opponent to learn how to counter you.

Breath steadily! Breathing is part of the overall rhythm, but it is not the part you want to change!

You are not noble to duel and relish in swordplay.

You need to kill your opponent and avoid dying. If you see no opportunity, then create one.

Move quicker when trying to feint and make your opponent sense the danger.

Clean fighting isn't for the battlefield. Use your legs, freehand, head, elbows, everything!"

-------

Three hours later, I fell to the ground while feeling that not a single part of my body was intact. Aison did not hold back as he showed me how to act on what he explained, and his wooden sword hit me with full strength a hundred times, if not more.

"Rest for half an hour and think about what I explained. Then we will restart." And while I looked like a dying dog, the man appeared not tired at all!

Honestly, I never believed or understood what the phrase "X meditated on the battle" meant. But now told to think about the comments, I attempted to replay the movements I did to receive them, and I found that I was wrong and an idiot. It works, absolutely!

Not that there was much to comprehend either, as, in truth, all of Aison's words resumed simply in two phrases. "Don't think so much. Let the sword flow." and "You are learning to kill your opponent, not dazzle him with swordplay."

***

After the rest, one that seemed painfully short, Aison told me to attack him again, so I did. This time, I attempted to avoid thinking so much, allowing the blade to search for the openings or what I thought of them. To which Aison's words also changed, this time criticizing my attacks and manner.

-------

"The windrose is one worthy base, but the eight are just the basics.

Don't try to select and prepare for one of them, but decide as the openings occur. All attacks are variations of the eight, and no one uses them by the book.

Your guards depend on the attack itself, not the direction.

Parry only if you have no other choice.

For others, step back and use the opposite direction for an attack.

Forget your fear of being wounded, as you will not be fighting a duel to first blood!

A sword can not hit you right after a miss, and if it does, it will be a glance while you can kill your opponent.

Don't aim for the chest. It's most probably armored.

Don't open your wrist! If you are wounded there, you will drop the sword! (I can not help but note the lack of the [YOU WILL FUCKING LOSE A HAND] part there.)

Attack to wound or kill, not to leave a fucking gash that will not lead to anything.

Concentrate on the follow-up, not the attack itself!"

-------

Close to two hours later, I was again on the ground. Aison did not hold back at all, again. And while I was grateful to him for such instruction, as it was far more realistic than the "Swing like this" I had in mind, it did not mean I was not starting to feel something close to anger at the constant beating.

"You have talent with the strength and quickness to back it up. Still, you lack the experience to forget about the details, and allow them to hold you back." Aison explained while looking absolutely unfazed after what I considered a crazed workout.

Not believing my vision of the situation, I checked on our stamina(s) and found his was lower than mine. So, how the fuck?!

Stamina (Mine) 59/100 % Stamina (Aison) 44/100 %

Probably something in my expression delated my thoughts, or Aison was experienced enough with this kind of doubt, as his next words partially explained the matter, "A real battle result does not depend on how good you are at swinging your sword. Neither it's defined by stamina or mastery. After all, the only thing that matters is who is dead and who's alive. Thus, while a mastery far above the opponent's one is important, if you can feign well enough, you can land a so-called lucky hit and win."

"But isn't luck part of the combat as well? Why lucky hit for one coming from deception? Is luck so swallow as to forget about it?" I blame the LCK stat in games for that question, but it was one that I would ask anyway after hearing about lucky hits.

"Luck exists, and the goddess Notus rules over it indeed. But you can not interfere with the domain of a goddess, can you? So a lucky hit isn't anything more than a successful one that lands against the odds. After all, how would you call a hit that makes me lose while we fight now?"

"...A lucky one."

"Yes, and will you go and think it was the goddess taking her time to influence it? Lower and pray in thanks?" Aison pressed his questioning.

In response, I could only shake my head. Not only because I technically followed another goddess and so the goddess of [Luck, Fortune, and Discovery], Notus of the Ten, would ignore me. But because Aison was right in asking how probable was that, imagined, strike being her deed? Considering I knew a goddess, I could not doubt it could be, but just how likely was it to be the deed of one?

"So, a lucky strike, or what passes as one, only comes from a carefully planned and executed deception. One like..." He started to talk and then suddenly stopped before shoving his sword almost into my mouth, "You did not expect this, and neither did I, as I acted without thinking. In a battle, it would be fatal, and it has nothing to do with luck, just that neither of us anticipated it to work out."

"Probably you did, as I am on the ground and mostly defenseless." I could not help but bite back, but Aison's point was clear.

"Well, yes, but it may have provoked something else to happen. So the result is one lucky hit indeed." The gangster-like sword instructor explained.

"Something else?"

"Gris mentioned you are an untrained mage. And judging from my own experience, even utility spells can be deadly." Aison responded before looking at me and suddenly asking, "Gris also said you are pretty good at making that happen, so maybe we should up the stakes?"

"Up the stakes? What do you mean?"

"Let's say that... You will not leave if you don't land a hit, sword, or magic on me." He shrugged while taking a couple of steps back and assuming a far more serious, lowered and tensed, guard than before.

"Seriously?" I both voiced and asked myself the same, altought the latter in a slightly less... correct way.

"Yes, and if you do, I will not ask Gris any payment for your training, no matter how long it takes." Aison nodded with a 100% serious expression.

"I see." At first I nodded, but then, "Wait, what's that about Gris paying? I was planning to do it myself anyway. You simply never said how much and when."

"Well, she owes me a few favors, and this one would be the desicive one to get her to pay back." He explained before suddenly grinning and asking in a strange tone, "Or you are against me taking advantage of her?"

"Huh?"

"Hahaha, now, either attack or stay here until I get tired and go to Gris!" Aison's grin grew wider while he laughed. And the bastard even added a half-dreamy (ehem, lewd) face while mentioning Gris.

"Aison, you know, you are a true bastard." I could not help but use Gris' words, except that I did not add the part of [It suits you]. Not that I did not think about the latter, in consideration of his bandit-like appearance.

"Oh! It seems that the lass got to you, huh? So? What will it be? Attacking or staying on the ground?"

"You asked for it!" Well, he wanted to give me motivation? Then, let's see how he likes when I am motivated. Whatever fuck that may mean for me.