“Nine-hundred ninety-eight! Nine-hundred ninety-nine! Eintausend!” The Young Master finished pushing himself off of the floor for the fiftieth time before laying dramatically with his arms splayed out.

Perhaps it is because he sneezed on his last one? It sounded painful.

Renee just chuckled to herself because of his antics. He had been doing a simple workout routine he called Kalisthetiks every morning, but the results didn’t seem to be all that effective. He maintained his physique, but his flexibility was still trash and he still lacked combat effectiveness. Truthfully, it worried Renee. Powerful people still wanted him dead, and his only defender strong enough to fight off any would-be assassins was where she should be. In Rowan Keep.

Renee never assumed she would be strong enough to properly defend the Young Master’s life. She had an aptitude for summoning a shield-like barrier, but it was really only useful for defending against perceived attacks. She had to will it in the way of oncoming damage, after all. She was really great against monsters that lacked the guile to strike from behind. Sadly, assassins exceled in backstabbing.

I really should have been a Warden…

“Renee… I think I’m getting less flexible.” The Young Master said as he sat up and start rotating his shoulders.

“Do you truly mean that or are you just saying it? If you truly meant it, that could be quite serious as you are exercising and stretching every day.” Renee said casually. She had learned long ago that the Young Master really responds to blunt honesty. Kasumi, on the other hand, looked ready to yell at Renee for… whatever that recent convert zealot was going to complain about.

The Young Master sighed and wiped his forehead with a towel Marigold handed him.

“Nah, I’m being serious. It was happening a lot when my mother was using her powers on me during recovery too. My new muscles were quite defined but lacked any limberness. Physical therapy became a whole lot of learning to move again… and stretching. I should be off the magic ‘high’ my mother put me through by now, right? So why is it that I cut back stretching just a teensy bit and now I feel all stiff and sore again?”

This is what I was waiting for! Now I can bring it up casually instead of harping on crap like Kasumi has been lately.

“Young Master, I think you just need to broaden out your range of motions. If you are settling down into the same three exercises every day, you neglect the other million possible ways to move your body.”

“Fair enough… what do you suggest I try then?” The Young Master stood up and looked Renee straight in the eye. With his shirt off from his work out, and the unwiped sweat glistening on his slender yet muscular body, Renee and Kasumi both let out an audible gulp.

What am I thinking about a twelve year old!?

“Martial arts, of course. You get to exercise, but you also get to learn a really useful skill. I hate being the one to bring this up… but once upon a time you were very, very interested in physical combat. In fact, many considered you a prodigy despite your lack of an aptitude that you could fight with. You had strength and speed comparable to trained knights, but you lacked the size and experience to win. Note that you were ten at the time…” Renee only exaggerated slightly. It was true he was freakishly strong for a ten-year-old lacking a combat aptitude, but he was also the son of Patricia and Bul Forrester… so it was to be expected he’d show at least a little promise.

“Martial arts huh? Yeah… that does sound pretty great.” With the Young Master’s admission, both Kasumi and Renee breathed out a sigh of relief. If he could gain back what he had lost, he would at least be able to protect himself against mundane attackers. It wouldn’t help against any tricky or ranged aptitudes, but it could certainly save his life.

“If I can learn how to move properly… I can more accurately recreate combat for my games! Let’s get started now! I’ve found my second wind.”

And… he’s back. Though, I’m a little disappointed in Kasumi in I for not considering this angle. Of course he would be willing to try it if it was for his game! You were only pretending to be tired, weren’t you, Lazy Young Master?

“Young Master, it would be best if you do not injure yourself before tomorrow. Unlike in your home, having a healer on hand is an extreme luxury. You will be entering the Academy as a transfer student, so it would be prudent not to be covered in bandages.” Marigold said from the side. Renee flinched as she had forgotten the maid was there.

“It’ll be fine! If I get beaten and broken today, you can just push me around in a wheelbarrow again.” The Young Master smiled mischieviously and Marigold’s face twitched ever so slightly.

“This is a man’s romance, you know. Being taught the ways of the world by three beautiful women.” Syron continued, trying to get Marigold to break her façade just a little more.

“Young Master, it is important you do not say things in a way that others may misinterpret.” Kasumi interjected with a scarlet face.

You’re the only one misinterpreting!

“Anyway… let’s just start. Teach me a move!” The Young Master bounced nimbly on his toes and put his fists in front of his face like a pugilist.

“Very well. Let’s start with the basic right straight. You are right hand dominate, yes? This is a basic punch with a lot of power. It is also an important fundamental that has a lot of ways to get wrong. By doing this punch, Kasumi and I can adjust your movements until you get it perfect.”

“Well, I was hoping for more acrobatics… but okay. A basic right straight…” The Young Master sighed with already apparent boredom.

* * * * *

“Hehh…? Can’t say I know you.” Syron momentarily appraised a boy dressed in the Academy’s uniform before grunting in dissatisfaction. He had decided to go with a delinquent character for his debut situation in the Academy. This decision was made four seconds beforehand, once the boy in question accosted him. He pushed past the kid roughly, hitting shoulders and causing the boy to trip backwards slightly before adjusting himself. Syron took a few more steps before leaning his body back and turning his head to look back at the shocked boy.

“You should watch where you’re going.” Syron intoned blandly before straightening back up and continuing to walk along the path to his first class building.

“What do you mean you don’t know me!? We met just a few weeks ago! You’re still acting this impertinent, even all the way in the capital!” The boy trailed behind Syron, yelling general statements about his behavior and sounding rather aggrieved by it. Syron stopped suddenly and turned, getting in the boy’s face and tilting his head slightly downward to make direct eye contact.

“Do we have a problem, kid? Inquiring minds would like to know.”

Of course, I actually do recognize the little punk. I think his name was Roo like the animal? A sauce thickener? No… I think the sheet said Rue like… ‘you will rue this day’! Well, congratulations kiddo. I already do. It seems like every male I get into contact with is troublesome. Mayor, this kid, the magister… only Georg the butler is good news.

The boy just stuttered in anger, spitting a little on his own lip.

“A duel! I can not stand for this indignation any further!” The boy cried out, drawing the attention of a crowd of passing students.

“I decline.” Syron said pompously and started to walk off.

“You… you what!? You can’t decline!” The boy insisted, but Syron just chuckled to himself and kept walking. Syron knew he was appearing to do basically the same thing, but children acting too big for their britches just… well, it’s just plain cute. Clearly this kid needed a lesson in humility from how he screams and raves constantly. If Syron didn’t do it… who would? This kid would probably be rotten his whole life. It’s an adult’s responsibility to right wrongs when they see it, no?

“Why should I? What do I get out of it, hmm?” Syron asked over his shoulder as he continued strolling away, followed by the angry duckling and a gaggle of very interested bystanders. A few of the bystanders started whispering excitedly about wagers.

“If you win, you can… hrm… I’ll complete one favor! If I win, you will kneel before me and apologize!” Given the terms, Syron thought it was a pretty great deal. If he lost, all he’d have to do is beg forgiveness? Syron didn’t possess the ‘pride of nobility’, so it was a pretty cheap cost of defeat. The group gasped at the boy’s declaration of doing a favor, but honestly… what could the kid possibly do for him he couldn’t get from his family?

“Hahhh… fine. As long as we do this quick. Over here in this grassy spot good enough?” Syron gestured off the stone walkway and towards a pleasant bit of greenery with a few bushes and a tree. A few of the gawkers laughed. Rue’s face started to turn purple.

“You dare humiliate me further!? We shall do this in the arena like proper duelists!”

Seriously, when is this kid going to run out of exclamation points? I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just a scuffle between children.

“Just lead the way. I’ve got my first class to attend, so move it.” Syron gestured with his hand to ‘get on with it’. Fortunately, the ‘dueling arena’ was actually a bowl style sport’s stadium that was located next to the class building Syron was on his way to enter. When Syron had first arrived, a gate guard politely gave him directions to the class building in question, but it’s not like he had memorized the whole campus’s layout. He was led down to the pitch where a small group of adults were huddled up and chatting with each other. When they saw the procession of children, several of them sighed and rolled their eyes, but made way. Syron stood on a circle around thirty meters away from Rue, whom was starting to calm himself. One of the adults that hopefully was a member of faculty stepped over to officiate. They only looked at Rue for some reason, but Syron didn’t mind. He was clearly the aggrieved party.

“Alright. What are the terms?”

“Exchange of favors.”

“What are the limitations?”

“None.”

“What are the win conditions?”

“Unconscious or submit.”

“Do both sides agree to these terms?” Finally, at this point the officiant looked over at Syron. It seemed fine to Syron, so he just nodded.

“Forrester, I will make you regret insulting me!” Rue screamed out as a heavy looking broadsword and shield materialized in his hands.

“I will… rue this day?” Syron had to say it at least once, even if it got lost in translation. The shift in tone took Rue aback and he faltered slightly.

“Er… yes? Ah! I mean, you will be begging for forgiveness when you wake up, so prepare yourself!” Rue yelled again after catching his bearings.

“Hey officiant dude, are there healers present?” Syron asked quickly, since the officiant seemed ready to start the match.

“Yes, don’t worry about injuries. We can heal you. Now, the match starts in three… two… one… Begin!” The officiant called out. Syron started whistling while Rue slowly advanced towards him, looking around like he expected to get ambushed at any moment. When he made it halfway to the stationary Syron, suddenly Rue collapsed to the ground holding his throat. His weapons both vanished as simply as they appeared. Syron appeared behind Rue, standing like he had been there all along. He then turned and kneeled before the collapsed boy that was gasping for air.

“Allow me to offer my apologies. It seems you owe me a favor.” He delivered yet another basic right straight.