"Haah… haaah… are… you… serious…?"
Kazuki lay sprawled on the ground, limbs trembling uncontrollably as sweat soaked through his clothes and mixed with dust and broken splinters of wood. His chest rose and fell erratically, each breath scraping painfully through his lungs.
"I can barely stand up… and you want me to continue?" he wheezed. "Give me a break…"
Above him, Takamura Hikari stood with his arms crossed, looking down at Kazuki with a reproachful glare that held not a shred of sympathy.
After several long seconds, Hikari finally turned away and allowed Kazuki a moment to rest. As he did, his gaze drifted across the training ground—broken practice swords scattered everywhere, shallow grooves carved into the earth, and faint impressions left by countless foot placements.
In his mind, Hikari calmly revised the entire training session, noting each mistake Kazuki had made.
Every single one.
(Three hours earlier)
"So… today we'll be doing sword training?" Kazuki asked, drawing the metal practice sword Hikari had provided earlier.
"Not necessarily."
Hikari answered without even looking at him.
"I don't yet know the exact extent of your magic, swordsmanship, or martial arts," he continued. "Today is not about teaching. It's about measuring."
He turned at last, eyes sharp.
"So stop wasting time with idle chatter and take a stance."
Kazuki complied, tightening his grip and adjusting his footing the way he had seen city knights do countless times.
Hikari, meanwhile, reached behind him and drew a sword of his own.
It was made of wood.
Kazuki blinked.
"…You're going to spar with that?"
Hikari raised an eyebrow. "You think you can cut through it just because it's wood?"
He stepped into position, posture relaxed yet perfectly balanced.
Kazuki hesitated, then shrugged. It wasn't his place to question his instructor—especially not one with Hikari's reputation.
"Stop circulating mana through your mana veins," Hikari commanded. "And do not reinforce your sword with mana. This will be pure sword technique only."
Kazuki nodded and did as instructed, suppressing the familiar flow within his body. The sensation left him feeling oddly exposed.
He took a defensive stance.
Something about the way Hikari stood made his instincts scream.
"Begin."
The word had barely left Hikari's mouth when he vanished.
Kazuki's eyes widened.
A sudden chill brushed his neck—
He dropped instinctively, crouching low as a wooden blade sliced through the space where his head had been a heartbeat earlier.
Kazuki reacted immediately, twisting his body and thrusting his sword upward toward Hikari's chest.
Clack!
The attack was effortlessly deflected.
"Tch—!"
Kazuki's sword arm was forced wide, his posture momentarily broken. Realizing the disadvantage, he tried to jump back and create distance—
He couldn't.
Hikari advanced relentlessly, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next. There was no wasted movement, no pause. Kazuki was forced entirely onto the defensive, steel ringing nonstop as he struggled just to keep up.
Grunt.
A sharp impact struck his leg.
Kazuki's balance shattered.
Before he could recover, pain exploded through his wrist as Hikari struck his sword hand cleanly.
The weapon flew from Kazuki's grasp and clattered uselessly across the ground.
The spar was over.
Kazuki stared in disbelief.
His eyes drifted to Hikari's wooden sword.
Not a single crack.
His own metal blade, meanwhile, was visibly bent.
"…Surprised?" Hikari asked calmly.
He tossed Kazuki another metal sword. "Want to try again? Or do you want to prove me wrong?"
The taunt worked.
Kazuki snatched the sword, jaw clenched, determination burning in his eyes.
I'll push him back. At least once.
He never stood a chance.
(Present time)
"How long are you going to whine?" Hikari asked coldly. "You have a lot of improvements to make."
"You haven't taught me anything!" Kazuki snapped, struggling to sit up. "You've just been beating me for three hours! In what world is that sword training?!"
Hikari clicked his tongue.
With a casual wave of his hand, the broken swords vanished as he cleared the field. Two wooden swords materialized in his grip moments later.
"You lack natural flow," Hikari said bluntly. "So you compensate by brute forcing your movements."
He tossed one of the wooden swords to Kazuki.
"If you ever face a competent swordsman in close quarters," Hikari continued, "you'll be helpless."
Kazuki stiffened.
"The defensive techniques you rely on are obvious," Hikari went on. "Worse, they don't allow for counterattacks. That makes them meaningless."
He stepped forward.
"Now watch me."
Hikari raised his sword.
"Focus your eyes on every movement. Copy everything exactly as you see it."
After only one spar—
"…My footwork."
Kazuki's voice was hollow as realization crashed down on him.
Even after thirty minutes, Hikari wasn't tired.
He hadn't moved more than fifteen yards.
Every step was efficient.
Every strike ended exactly where it needed to.
Not once did he overextend.
Kazuki, meanwhile, felt like he had been sprinting nonstop.
"That," Hikari said calmly, "is why I forbade magic."
He lowered his sword.
"If I had defeated you using magic, you'd simply think I was superior in that field. You would never understand your shortcomings."
Kazuki clenched his fists.
It was true.
Even after earlier spars, he had only felt frustrated—not enlightened.
One final question lingered in his mind.
"…Why did you use a wooden sword?"
Hikari's lips curved upward.
"To make one thing painfully clear," he said with a grin. "You're not even at the level where weapon material matters."
He leaned closer.
"I could have fought you with a stick. But then you'd accuse the stick of being an artifact."
As Hikari laughed openly, the truth finally dawned on Kazuki.
This man wasn't just strict.
He was enjoying this.
'Sadistic bastard,' Kazuki grumbled inwardly as he dragged himself back to his feet.
And resumed training.
The memories of this day would haunt him for a very long time.