A\N-
Don't know why but my Microsoft Word is not working properly, please bear with the formatting for this chap, I will make sure this is not repeated!
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PREVIOUSLY-
[ Dear Leon,
How are you? Are you training diligently? No, of course you are! Just remember that veggies are also important, though not as much as meat.
Regarding your question to survive five blows from an instructor. The answer is, you can't.
However, remember, where there is Vincent, there is a way.
So, here's how you survive five strikes. But first—
{Sisyphus is doomed to push forward the stone, that is the flow of his destiny. But what happens when an opportunity to change your fate arrives?
Is embracing the unknown truly the right answer?}
—X—
Suddenly, the rune shimmered on the parchment, the ink inscribed on it peeling itself free and rising into the air, coalescing into a pill the size of a fingernail.
Leon remembered the words from the letter-
'Don't grow your forms, but interrogate their weaknesses. Show deliberate openings that seem natural and you will know where the attack is.
Shortly, a pill will condense from the ink. Take it a few minutes before the duel, though you will face the consequences later.
If you really want to win, either get stronger or use… taboo methods.
PS- Don't become a drug-addict.
Yours Lovely,
Vayren'
BACK TO THE SPAR-
Galahad squinted, blocking another swing of Leon's sword.
'I can't believe Young Master has resorted to such simulants to defeat me. Why? Why would such a talented child debase his own talent like this?'
'I must steer him towards the right path.'
Leon lunged toward Galahad's chest, but the latter pivoted, hooking Leon's legs and sweeping him off the ground. His fingers snagged the boy's collar, and with a sharp twist of his wrist he drove Leon into the floor.
"Argh!" Leon spat,
'I- I am running out of time. My body is burning! It hurts!'
"Young Master," Galahad drew closer, "Why are you desperate?"
Leon stopped flailing. He looked Galahad straight in the eye.
"When I want something, I never give up on it."
'Young Master!'
Galahad's eyebrows shot up before pulling together in a puzzled frown.
"I see."
He loosened his grip as Leon slithered across his opponent.
"Haa…Huff…"
Pants came in rugged manner, Leon's muscles were torn, his body's temperature had risen to an unhealthy degree.
Yet.
His will was far from broken.
"Please, pay attention,"
Galahad slowly held up his sword, as if demonstrating a technique.
"This is the sword of Leonhart. This is the standard you must one day surpass, Young Master."
SWISH!
Without any flair or aura, Galahad's wooden sword travelled in a simple downward swing.
A clean motion, nothing more, nothing less.
RUMBLE!
Yet this meager swing of pure force painted a large trench across the peaceful porch. Leon stood astounded.
His eyes remained fix on the sword. His hands clenched.
"So, coo—"
THUMP!
Leon's body slumped to the ground, the wear of the battle crashing down on him.
A FEW MOMENTS LATER-
"Young Master! Please wake up."
"You fool! Why would you—!"
"Wife, I did not know such a thing would happen."
Voices rang in Leon's skull as light gradually bled back into his vision.
"Argh…"
Leon groggily rubbed his eyes, flinching at the lingering ache in his limbs, waking up to a scene of Sigmund clutching his hand while Freya argued with Galahad in front of him.
"Young Master!" Freya practically teleported beside Leon, her face stricken with worry.
"How are you feeling? Does it hurt? Young Master?"
Her questions crashed over him like a tide as Leon wearily glanced at Sigmund, who had already reverted to his usual blank expression.
"Ah, Dame Freya. I am alright. Maybe a little sore."
In an instant, Freya conjured a low table laden with warm soup and a neat row of candies.
Young Master," the spoon hovered before Leon,
"Please drink this medicine, it is good for your health."
Just as Leon parted his lips, an atrocious stench hit him. A gurgle clawed its way up his throat
"Dame Freya, can we skip the medicine?" The boy put on the most innocent expression he could find.
The attack struck a critical hit at Freya.
'How cute! He looks like a little hare!'
However, the effect soon wore off as Sigmund's expression hardened. He leaned in and jabbed Leon's side with one merciless finger
"AAAAAH!" A scream, half‑shriek and half wyvern‑gargle, echoed through the room.
The shriek turned Freya's expression more…haunting. Her smile stretching more than it should.
"Come on now, Young Master. Aren't you a strong warrior? Its time you take your medicine."
"N-No!" Leon tried to escape however Freya 'lightly' pinned him to the bed.
"Now, now. Say 'aah'."
"AAARRGH!!"
As soon as the first spoon entered Leon's mouth, a lurch and urge spread throughout his body.
"Galahad!" Freya signaled as Galahad quickly handed the candy to Leon. The urge passed over as Leon finally settled.
"Now," Freya's smile reappeared, "Time for another spoon."
"Sigmund," Leon looked at Sigmund, tears threatened to spill as the stench drew closer, "You TRAITOR! @$@%&!!"
A FEW MOMENTS LATER-
Finally, both the bowl of soup and the plate of candies sat empty. All eyes turned to Galahad as Freya calmly produced a slipper from nowhere.
"U-Umm, wife… I… How about we talk like a civilized couple?"
As Freya stepped closer, Galahad moved with the swiftness of a terrified squirrel and slipped to Leon's side.
"Young Master! I apologize for my harshness in the duel!"
Leon calmly shook his head,
"Worry not Sir Galahad, it was not because of you but due to the drugs I took before the duel."
The room fell into a stretched silence. And it hung, like bowstring taut, ready to break at the slightest pull.
Freya's slipped dropped from her grip. A slow smile curved across Galahad's lips. Sigmund nearly fell off his chair before slumping to a nearby window.
"I- I know, it was a wrong decision… but, how was I supposed to last five blows against Instructor Galahad."
"Why?" Freya sat beside Leon, "Why would you be so—"
"For Sig." Leon replied, tilting his head towards Sigmund,
"I want him as my herald. So, I have to pass his test."
"However, Young Master," Galahad intervened, his smile replaced by a serious expression,
"The sole heir of duke using drugs. That is not proper, Young Master."
"I know." Leon replied, hanging his head in shame,
"I apologize for using such means."
"More importantly." Freya turned to Galahad,
"From where did you acquire such a thing? Such a potent elixir?"
"Eh?" Leon, Galahad and Sigmund turned to Freya in unison.
"E-Elixir?" Sigmund muttered, "But aren't elixirs both rare and take time to digest?"
"I shared the same opinion before," Freya touched Leon's hand, where a bruise had painted the area purple,
"But drugs don't have healing properties," then she pointed to how Leon's clothes had become somewhat tighter around his body,
"Nor do they help the body grow."
"It seems we need to investigate the matter," Galahad rose,
"Young Master, please tell us. Where did you get this elixir. We worry it might be something shady."
"I cannot." Leon jumped out of the bed.
"I forgive you, Sir Galahad," he said, shrugging into his shirt and heading for the door.
"Please keep this a secret for me."
Sigmund followed as Leon left the house. Freya and Galahad watched in silence as the duo walked back toward the dormitory.
"Husband," Freya murmured, turning to Galahad, "we need to investigate this."
Sigmund's fist tightened as a gulp travelled down his throat. An unnamed emotion took over him as he stood in his place.
"Why, why can't you leave me alone?" words finally flowed out of his mouth.
"Why does it have to be me? Do you want to show off your talent? Is that why you think keeping a guy with mediocre talent will make you shine more?"
The action left Leon stunned. The boy turned to his friend and with a 'thwap' he punched Sigmund in the face.
Leon's face turned red, as he gritted his teeth,
"Is that what you think of me? Do I seem like an arrogant guy to you, Sig?!"
The impact sent Sigmund reeling as he resumed his bearings shortly,
"Yes!" Sigmund shrieked, "Brothers? You think I will fall over such a lie! You- All of you, you just want to remind me that I am a talent-less bastard!"
His lunged at Leon, pinning him to the ground,
"I was just living somehow but why did you have to come here?! You have everything bloodline, talent, everything!"
Sigmund punched Leon again,
"That talent of yours! That damn talent! Why is it you? Why not me?"
Leon did not respond, only listening to Sigmund.
"Even I want to praised, yet because I am failing at everything!"
"Why do you get everything without having to work for it?"
Leon's brows furrowed, he caught Sigmund's wrist, kicking him off him.
"Without having to work? Sigmund," Leon grabbed his collar, his fist colliding with Sigmund's chin,
"Let me tell you something, Sigmund. I, yes, me, I, work hard than you. Yes, I have talent, but it is because I work for it that I earn recognition."
Blood flowed from Sigmund's lips,
"You say you lack talent. Do you want to become strong?"
Sigmund clutched Leon's wrist, struggling to break free,
"Strong? Who doesn't want to be strong? How will talented guys like you know what it means to be strong?"
Sigmund's kick game for Leon's gut as he wiped his lips,
"Only the weak can truly understand strength. Tell me truthfully, Young Master, have you ever lost to a peer?"
Leon's body flinched for a moment, the corners of his lips curled into a reminiscing smile,
"Defeat? I have known it more times than I can count. I have a brother you see, Raphaeldor. That guy is far smarter than me, though currently our duel is stuck at 33-33."
His body weaved into a battle-ready stance,
"And, don't even ask me about 'him'."
"Him?"
"My older brother. Vincentius Duskrane. If you want to see real talent, you must go to him."
"Sig," Leon walked towards Sigmund,
"You are my brother. Of course I would choose you."
THWAK!
His fist stabbed Sigmund in the gut,
"Don't be my servant. Be my partner."
"Haha!" Sigmund launched a kick at Leon,
"Very well then, Leon. I will join you."
"That's more like it!" Leon exclaimed, his fist in motion.
THWAK!
LOCATION – Tigris Palace, Tigranclaw Duchy
Raphael stood in the stone colosseum. A place unfitting for a five-year-old like him. Around him, similar children stood in organized rows.
A few rows behind, another gathering of crimson-haired children stood quietly. They were flanked by other children, who were all of different characteristics.
"Attention." Elder Rokan stood from his seat, eyes glancing at the trainees below him.
"I would first like to congratulate the new batch of trainees who have come to seek the teachings of Tigranclaw."
"However," Elder Rokan's eyes narrowed,
"Do not, even for a moment think that we will go easy on you. Though the trials awaiting you won't be impossible, they will surely not be easy."
Then, from a gate, a knight appeared, he was followed by a woman in mage robes and another middle-aged woman in a dark navy gown, complete with spectacles and a shawl.
"These people before you are your instructors for basic spearmanship, basic magic and compulsory theory. Now, please introduce yourselves."
"Good morning, young ones!" The knight waved enthusiastically, his jet-black hair neatly parted in the middle as bangs covered the sides of his forehead.
"My name is Godfrey Tigranclaw. I am your instructor for basic spearmanship."
After him, the mage beside spoke,
"Myself Morgana Kendall. I will be teaching you basic magical theory."
Her wide green eyes gazed at the students as she gracefully tucked a loose strand of her violet hair behind her ear.
At last, the middle-aged woman stepped forward,
"Good morning little fellows, I am Matilda Tigranclaw, I will be responsible for teaching you compulsory theory. Don't be scared by the name, all we will do is just listen to some stories."
SNAP!
With a single snap, a staircase of stone materialized before elder Rokan as he descended down to stairs, towards the students.
"We shall now begin the herald choosing ceremony. All the students who share Tigranclaw blood may choose a partner for themselves from the children of Umbra family."
"And, if you wish to not choose one, you may remain alone. For the kids from Umbra family, you have to right to choose a master or refuse if you do not wish to serve a particular person."
With that, a ripple spread through the crowd as children began scrambling, asking each other with they want to be partners.
'I must find someone I am a little familiar with.'
Raphael pondered,
'Because the early we pair up the better our teamwork becomes with time.'
He turned towards the commotion. Many children shook hands with each other while some awkwardly refused. Raphael's eyes stopped at a lone child who sat in a corner. His head buried in his knees.
"Hello," Raphael stretched his hand, "What is your name?"
The child looked up, crimson eyes taking the view of a well clothed boy.
"Theo-Theobald Umbra…" Theobald fidgeted with the helm of his shirt before sheepishly running a hand through his red hair.
"May I ask for your name?"
Raphael smiled,
"Raphaeldor Tigranclaw."
The response made Theobald stumble backwards,
"I-I greet the Young Master!"
"We have met before, haven't we?" Raphael stepped closer,
"It's been a year, how are you, Theo?"
Theobald stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes,
"I have been well, Young Master."
Raphael examined Theobald with the gaze of an eagle looking at his prey.
"Care for a handshake?" He offered his hand once more.
Innocently, with the survival instincts of a rock, Theo agreed. Within a second, Raphael twisted his hips, trying to execute a shoulder throw.
'What?!'
His smile widened to an unhealthy degree.
"Young Master?"
Theobald asked, puzzled as to why Raphael was holding his arm like that and facing his back to the boy.
Raphaeldor Tigranclaw had what his brother Vincent called, 'A Perfect Body' a body suitable for all martial art—or none. Any technique could be mirrored, learned, performed without compromising the result.
'There are many people with gifted constitutions just like yours.'
The words echoed in Raphael's mind,
'Some, like Leon may have good instincts, some like you may have a perfect structure.'
'Vayren, what is special about your body?'
'Me, special? Well, my specialty would be @#$%#@&.'
The memories passed over as the child examined Theo more closely. His bone structure, his muscles, everything.
'This guy, though his frame is small, his constitution is special.'
"Theo," Raphael spoke, the smile disappearing into a thin line,
"I would like you to be my partner."
"B-But Young Master, someone like me—"
"I have use for you," Raphael cut Theobald,
"You have a special body. I want a talented person to be with me."
"Special body?" Theobald flinched, "W-What can be special about me…I am always so useless…"
"I just said I have a use for you."
Theobald looked up at Raphael. It was as if staring at his exact opposite. Aristocratic features, elegant mannerisms, confident.
At that moment, Raphael appeared like someone looking down at him from a higher realm.
"Is my sincerity not enough?" Raphael's voice brought Theobald back to reality,
"I want someone I can trust throughout my life. If you feel otherwise, please say so."
At that moment, a small voice whispered in Theobald's ears,
'Don't you want to climb higher? Do you want to remain shackled?'
"W-What would you do for me?" With a shot of courage, Theobald threw his question.
"For you?" Raphael crossed his arms, "I will help you."
"Help?"
"Don't you want to grow? Meet people? Get stronger?"
"Don't you want to be someone who can protect?"
The question sent a jolt across Theobald's chest. He bit his lip nervously, contemplating the next response.
'Now is the time to push.' Raphael placed a hand on his shoulder,
"I make three promises to you, Theobald."
"First," Raphael stretched his index finger,
"I will treat you as my brother, you will never be treated as a servant."
"Second, I will help you grow."
"And third, after ten years, if you feel so, you can leave me anytime."
"I ACCEPT!" Theobald bowed, a nervous smile shaking his lips.
"Good. Now, let's go and train." Raphael ruffled Theobald's hair before moving towards the exit.
"Train?" Theobald only tilted his head in confusion.
Unbeknownst to the trials of bond that awaited him.