I am well aware that my unique skills give me a pretty good advantage.
[Leap Stride] is incredibly versatile. Not only does it let me move around very quickly and give me a lot of verticality. But it also allows me to put in a lot more force into my strikes than my strength stat would normally allow. And it gives me [Spring Kick], which has already proven to be pretty scary if timed correctly.
And I can't sing [Threat Detection's] praises enough, because it's saved my life more times than I can count.
These skills have let me surprise and catch off-guard things way stronger than me. From all manner of monsters, to now [Bandits]. Letting me dodge attacks that I never should have been able to. And completely shaping the way that I fight.
I owe a lot to them.
But if there is anything I have learned from using them pretty extensively. Is that they are not all-powerful.
They can fall short. They can be fooled. Or I'm just not quick enough—or skilled enough—to respond.
My 'fight' with the [Highwayman] could not have been better proof of that. The only thing they were able to do against him was buy me time. And not even that much.
I mean, yeah, I got a lucky shot in and sent him through a wall. But he survived! And there is only so many times I can surprise someone with a neat trick before they see the strings.
If and when he shows up again, he isn't going to toy around with me like he did before.
He's just going to kill me. So I can't rest on my laurels.
I'd like to think I've been doing pretty well with making sure I'm not becoming arrogant. But in hindsight, I think it's been bleeding through bit by bit with how lucky I've been so far. To the point where I feel almost unsettled by it.
So maybe I needed to be humbled a little bit?
A little shaken up, perhaps?
But that also might just be me internalizing how utterly helpless I feel right now...
THUD
My back strikes the ground with enough force to drag me through the dirt and send me rolling backward. All the air in my already burning lungs escaping from the impact after another failed dodge.
But I've learned my lesson, at least a little bit, as I quickly roll out of the way when Ethel's sword comes down above me. Hopping to my feet to deliver an awkward swing into the armored woman's side after her sword hard-stops into the ground. But my broadsword worthlessly bangs against the tassets on her hip and barely registering even a flinch from her.
But a hits a hit.
I quickly begin backpedaling to create distance and recover, but the [Knight] beats me to the punch. Literally. Not even bothering to reorient her sword enough to swing, instead choosing to lunge forward and straight punch me in the chest with her free hand.
The angle is awkward and she doesn't have enough time to cock her arm back enough, so there isn't as much force in it as she usually can. But if there is anything I've learned from sparring with her the last hour or so, she is ungodly strong. So the punch knocks me off my feet and back onto the ground. Giving her just enough time to lift her sword back up and swing it down again faster than I can react.
THUMP
The blade hits the dirt right next to my head and causes my ear to ring. The [Knight] looming over me, her armor caked in mud and loose grass. Droplets of what I can only assume is sweat drips from the sharp nose of her sallet.
Quite a harrowing sight, even if know she has no intention of truly harming me.
And despite my tenacity thus far, having gotten myself up over a dozen times at this point. I can't seem to get my body to cooperate anymore. Every breath makes it feel like my lungs are on the verge of collapsing. A layer of sweat stewing my inside my layers of armor and padding.
"I—I give..." I wheeze out, finally letting the tension off my body and allowing myself to melt into my final resting place. Right in front of my village's front gate.
Seems like a great place to die. Very appropriate.
Just roll me over into the grass and carts should be able to pass by just fine.
Ethel releases a long and laborious breath, her imposing armored visage losing quite a bit of its aura as she slumps down to her knees before rolling onto her back next to me. "Thank god. I almost feared you would want another round." She wheezes out all the same, her gauntleted hands clumsily unhooking her helm until it releases. The [Knight] tossing it lazily to the side to my amusement.
Her pale blonde hair is soaked and clinging to the shape of her head like a second skin. A sight that makes me giggle weakly.
I shake my head and tilt it to the side as several scattered claps from the sideline draw my attention. The crowd of villagers from an hour ago has thinned out throughout the repeated spars. Some had gone back to work. While others likely couldn't stomach watching me get smacked around like a ragdoll.
And I guess I can't blame them too much. Ethel didn't take it easy on me. At least when she knew she could.
I thought I had an advantage at first with how fast I could go. But I quickly learned that doesn't mean much when the person you are fighting can move fast quicker than you.
Which might not make sense at first, but means a lot in practice.
The last hour has taught me some very subtle but key limitations to my skills.
One, is that [Leap Stride] has quite a long wind-up. Meaning it takes a moment before the skill activates. Which can be longer if I'm already disoriented, as it hinges on my own ability to react.
It's only about a second from thought to engagement. But in the heat of combat, a single second can be life or death. So, timing is very important. Proactive instead of reactive seems to be the solution, but one I will need to work out better timing for.
But then comes the more gut wrenching realization.
Despite what I've seen the skill capable of doing in the hands—er, claws, of a Kite. I am not some unstoppable object when I am mid-leap. I already knew that much.
But Ethel has proven that she can not only knock my trajectory off with a simple shoulder check, but she can even redirect my momentum where she wants if she can get her hands on me.
Which is a TERRIFYING thought. Because I can't stop a leap once I am in it. Only by connecting with something can I slow my momentum early. By either breaking through it, or bouncing off of it and skipping around like a flat stone on a pond. The latter of which can leave me incredibly vulnerable.
Which means, to my frustration, I have the same exact issue that Leone did when he became obsessed with using his [Flash Strike] skill. And I've been relying on mine just as much, if not even more, than he did.
And to think I lectured him about that. I'm an absolute hypocrite.
Suffice it to say, I stopped using it after the fourth or fifth round and just switched to dodging on my own power. Which I realize now that I've been neglecting somewhat.
But aside from [Leap Stride], I have also learned some important quirks of [Threat Detection] as well.
Obviously, I already know that sensing an attack is way different from actually being able to dodge it. I've still been hurt plenty of times even though [Threat Detection] warns me.
Of course, I likely would have just died in those instances if it hadn't. So it still works in my favor. I'd definitely rather get cut than decapitated.
But now I know much more about how the skill actually operates.
It essentially works like eyes on the back of my head. It warns me of danger that I am either being targeted by or in the path of. But only when I am unawareof or unexpecting it.
And that last part is important.
The skill can still warn me if I'm about to be attacked, even if I'm aware of the attacker. All it needs to know is that I'm not expecting what the next move is. And how severe the prickly sensation I get when it warns me is less about how powerful the attack is, and more about how much it threatens my life.
It rates a simple stab to the back of my head the same as it does a Kite swooping in to grab me for a quick meal.
But if I know what I'm fighting and what it can do, the skill either reacts weakly or doesn't react at all. The longer I've sparred with Ethel, the more I've been understanding her attack patterns. What she usually aims for or attempts, depending on my position.
So the skill hasn't flared up much at all since a few rounds ago.
But even more importantly, it's made me realize that [Threat Detection] can be tricked somehow.
It's a thought that has crossed my mind for weeks since it happened. But I only started thinking about it more seriously just this past hour.
All the way back in the Dominion woods when Tarfyr ambushed us. He somehow snuck past my [Threat Detection] and attacked me before it had time to warn me. And if not for Thorpe's intervention, that likely would have killed me.
I'm not sure how exactly he did it, but I'm at least aware now that there might be a gap to exploit if an opponent at least roughly understands the skill. And he definitely saw it in action when I stopped that log from skewering Dreyfus.
So it's definitely something to be wary of.
"If you let your face stay scrunched like that for too long you'll get wrinkles before you're twenty."
I snap my attention out of my own thoughts and direct it towards Ethel lying next to me. The [Knight] is smiling from ear to ear as if amused by how contemplative I must have looked.
My cheeks warm up with embarrassment. "Sorry. Got lost in thought. Learned a lot from all that, so I'm just parsing through it all."
She seems to beam even brighter at that, burning past her exhaustion. "I am glad I could be of some assistance. We'll have to talk about what you learned later. But for now, I think we need to get cleaned up and take a much deserved rest." Ethel says before groaning while sitting herself up. "You did very well today."
I scoff at her compliment. "Hardly. I couldn't do anything at all to you. It wasn't even a fight for you."
The [Knight] furrows her brows and tilts her head at me. "Liore. No offense to your skills, dear. But you aren't going to beat me in open combat anytime soon." She smirks and shakes her head, turning herself around in the dirt to face me. "I wasn't expecting you to challenge me. You're thirteen, for God's sake."
I feel the color drain from my face as my shoulders slump and my cheeks burn hotter. "Oh..." I mutter, feeling a tightness in my chest regrowing. "I—I didn't—I'm sorry. That was really stupid of me to think."
She waves her hands dismissively. "No, no. There is no need to apologize. You are having a simple misunderstanding. And given your training thus far, I am not surprised that you thought you were on a level playing field with the rest of us. And I don't mean that in a negative way."
She says that, and yet I can't help but feel a bit insulted by the wording. My face feels like it's stuck in a grimace. "I'm overestimating myself."
She tilts her hand back and forth to emphasize, "A tad bit. But that is not to say that you don't have the right to be confident. I will fully admit that you are measures above what I was at your age. The worse I'd been through at the time was clearing out big rats from someone's basement. And you're out here testing yourself on jackalopes and aber badgers? Absolutely insane."
I raise a brow at her in confusion. "Aren't those supposed to be monsters that beginner mercenaries go after?"
Ethel's looks taken aback by that question, shaking her head wildly. "Heavens no! The Guild wouldn't clear you for that until you were at least sixteen and with ample combat training. Even just the low-tier warren defenders can break near every bone in your body with one good kick. It would be psychopathic to send children your age out to fight them. And don't even get me started about saber badgers…"
My eyes widen gradually as she answers. Because I think I'm starting to realize just how warped my sense of reality is. "Oh..."
Ethel lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes her head before rubbing her temples. "This is what I was trying to tell you. Auguste is extremely out of touch. He is not normal. And neither are the [Guards] around here for that matter. Again, because of him!" She states with frustration. "Not that any of that is really a bad thing. You live on the edge of one of the most dangerous forests on the continent. So they're better off being a bit abnormal out here." Her voice trails off near the end as she also slumps somewhat.
She then grits her teeth and groans, "So. I guess I don't exactly have much room to talk. My idea of pacing might be entirely skewed by a much safer Capital upbringing." She admits before raising a finger to point at me. "But I still think you need to train with someone who has more realistic standards. That is why I wanted to do all this."
I nod slowly while watching her go through a range of emotions, from frustration, to a begrudging self-awareness. And I really can't blame her. I'm pretty sure they call this culture shock? "I do think I need it as well." I admit honestly, finally sitting myself up as well with a bit of effort. "I don't regret anything Thorpe has taught me. Even if it might have been too much too quickly, or out of the norm. But I really don't think I would have made it this far without it."
The [Knights] nose wrinkles, but she nods in agreement either way.
So I take a deep breath, pulling my sword up into my lap. Still strapped tightly into its sheathe. "Even after the hunting trip, we knew we needed to slow things down. But honestly, I might have needed a good outside perspective just as much."
Ethel's expression finally softens as she offers a small smile and reaches over to pat my shoulder gently. "And as long as I'm here, I will help as much as I can."
I return the smile and then purse my lips. "So this whole spar thing was just you turning into a practice dummy for me basically?"
She chuckles, raising a hand to give me a thumbs up. "That sums it up a bit too much. But yes. I wanted to give you as close a test of what it feels like to fight an experienced combatant as possible." She explains further and lifts herself off the ground to start scraping the dirt off her armor. "And since you aren't really strong enough to hurt me when I'm in my armor, you can hit me pretty much as hard as you like. And, like I said before we started, I want to give you the chance to find a balance. What works and what doesn't. What needs to be adjusted or improved."
I follow suit and lift myself up to my feet, which feel like they've swelled in the boots beneath my greaves. "And if you weren't in armor, all the strikes I got on you throughout those spars would have likely been effective."
The [Knight] smiles wider. "Exactly." She confirms, stepping over to help clean off some of my gear as well. "As much as learning to fight someone in armor is important, the majority of the human enemies you might face in life will likely be [Bandits]. And they rarely ever have the chance to get sets like mine. Let alone the skills to use them properly."
My nose wrinkles at the mention, but I nod. "But they're good at fighting people, aren't they?"
She takes a breath and exhales it through her nose while scrapping off some mud from my cuirass. "That they are. It's what they are born to do. And some of them are masters at it. It's what makes them so dangerous."
My face scrunches up as my mind plays back every scuffle I've gotten into with one. "How the hell did I survive?"
Ethel snorts and laughs, standing herself up straight. "Because you're smarter than them. And I've definitely seen the strongest fighters killed by far less through sheer arrogance."
Just by the disappointment apparent in her expression, I can tell she really means that.
Mrs. Bennett finally makes her way over, the crowd by the wall behind her fully clearing up now as they cycle back into the village. The redhead approaches me with a handy cloth and immediately starts wiping my face clean rather roughly. "Are you finally done beating the shite out of each other? It was getting perilous over there, you know. Nearly chewed my fingernails to the nubs each time she used you like a damn cudgel." She prattles as she gestures a hand out to the dirt path that is now somewhat pockmarked with little craters and channels where I hit after my leaps.
Yeah. Once Ethel figured out that [Leap Stride] had a cushioning effect, she did not hold back when she managed to grab me. Which, again, is why I stopped using it after a few rounds.
I look up apologetically at Mrs. Bennett. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I'm really okay, I swear."
Mrs. Bennett narrows her eyes at me briefly, but eventually sighs and pulls me in next to her. "I won't fuss about it anymore. But I still don't like it." She responds before aiming a look up at the armored woman. "If you're done giving her a thrashing, this little lady needs to get home before it gets dark."
Ethel raises her hands in mock surrender, her warm smile giving it away easily. "I yield to your seniority, Phillipa. I leave her in your care."
The redhead raises her head high and curtly nods. "Then a good night to you, Ser Ethel." She offers, all the while spinning me about to push me along towards the gate.
But I manage to look over my shoulder and give a wave towards the [Knight]. "We'll spar again later! Have a good night!"
Ethel returns the wave and almost looks as though she is about to call something back, but one of the mercenaries who had been mixed in with the crowd approaches her, catching her in a conversation.
The distance is too much to overhear, but it does look like Ethel turns a bit serious before she starts following her comrade away.
Hopefully it isn't anything bad. But I won't butt in just because I'm curious.
Instead, I simply follow Mrs. Bennett as she walks me back home while the sun is nearing its setting. Towards the goal of a nice hot bath, supper, and my own bed.
Definitely more important than whatever that was.
____________________________________________________________________
I open the washroom door and step out into the hallway, steam bellowing out along with me. My skin spotless, body clear of grime, and my cloud-like hair thoroughly washed. Dressed in a light tunic and loose drawstring trousers. A towel draped across my shoulders that I'm still using to wipe away the moisture still building up in some spots.
I thought I'd feel crippled after all of that, but I've recovered pretty quickly.
Not that my muscles and joints don't ache horribly. That is definitely still happening. But it has at least subsided to a manageable kind of agony.
Mother isn't back from the field yet. Likely won't for another hour or so. They've been blitzing like crazy out there. And it's getting colder every day.
I move across the hall and into my room. The first sight greeting me is my sword, currently lying across a towel on my bed. The sheath has been removed after being beaten up quite a thoroughly. I'll have to ask Margo to patch it up soon, it's looking kind of ragged.
My broadsword is looking fine, but ever since Mrs. Bennett told me it's on its last leg, I've been really concerned about using it. Having it break on me mid-combat would definitely not be ideal. But it's the best weapon I have. And I haven't used my shortsword yet.
And although I'd like to say it's because there just hasn't been a good moment for it, there really has. I just haven't had the guts to reach for it.
The idea of getting used to a different weapon kind of makes me feel uncomfortable. But I really have to curb thoughts like that. I'll test it the next time I get the chance for sure!
My hands secure around the grip of my broadsword before I lift it up to my eye level. The dim mirror reflection of my eyes in the rather comically wide blade locks with my own. I can't make out too many of my features with how poor the reflection is. But it's enough to appear somewhat ghostly.
I smirk and chuckle at the thought, looking off to the side where my standing mirror is. The reflection catching my nicely cleaned form. My hair at its full volume, shaping around my head.
It's gotten a bit long too, reaching down a bit past my shoulders. Definitely not as long as it used to be, but enough to where I'll need to have Momma trim it again.
I change my stance in the mirror to hold my sword straight up with both hands, leveling the crossguard with my chin as the blade is poised next to my face in a rather knightly pose. One that makes me giggle at myself.
With how much muscle I've put on, my face has definitely gotten slightly handsomer. Echoes of how Ser Ethel's has taken shape with her quite strong build.
I don't hate it. It makes me look strong and sort of heroic.
I purse my lips though at the reflection, the mirror too far to catch itself in the reflection of my sword.
A low hum rumbles in my throat as the memory of that night with Arric and the conversation at Thorpe's cabin afterwards crosses my mind.
That and the haunting prayer now emblazoned within my window.
"May my enemies divide before me..." I mutter under my breath absentmindedly before a brief movement catches my attention in the mirror. Much too quick for me to see.
I stare at the mirror for a moment, my brows furrowing in confusion. But nothing else happens. But I could have sworn...
My jaw tightens, and the grip on my sword does as well. "May my enemies divide before me..."
And to my sinking stomach, something does occur in response. A faint violet shimmer crawls up the blade of my sword and vanishes at the tip. Faster than the blink of an eye.
I stare longer into the reflection, my palms getting warmer as the leather grip creaks beneath my fingers. A nervous swallow traveling down my throat. "May my enemies divide before me..."
Another shimmer, just as quick, never lingering long enough. But now I can feel my heart beating faster and my lungs begin to burn as if the fatigue from the spar is returning somehow.
"May my—"
BANG BANG BANG
I jump at the loud knocks that echo through the cottage. My heart feeling as though it skips a beat from the shock.
BANG BANG BANG
"Great. What now." I mutter, tossing my sword back onto my bed before I step out into the hall. Stealing a brief glance at the mirror one more time before I do so.
I cut through the cottage to the front entrance, unlatching and opening the door. Just to see Thorpe in his casuals standing out front with his hands on his hips and a serious look in his eyes Which makes a slight frown tug at the corners of my mouth. "What's wrong?"
Thorpe greets me with a quick nod and a pent-up exhale. "Get your shoes on. The [Scouts] are back. And they're debriefing them right now."
My jaw clenches at the news. Swiftly turning myself around to slide on my boots near the door as quickly as possible before I march out alongside him.
Finally.
Maybe we can actually end all this.