Looking up at Arthur, I asked, "Should I call you Master now?"
"Nah," Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "You can just call me Sir Arthur when it's just the two of us."
I nodded and stood up.
"Now, let's get started." Arthur clapped his hands together. "I won't ask you many more questions about swords since you already seem quite knowledgeable about them, but I will ask one thing. What is the purpose of a sword?"
"Isn't it to cut down my enemies and protect myself?"
Arthur nodded. "That's a good answer. But here's another question. Why do you want to wield the sword? What kind of sword do you want yours to be? One meant to slaughter enemies, to protect the weak, to seek strength, or simply for yourself?"
I listened carefully, letting his words sink in.
Why do I want to wield the sword? I thought as I looked at my reflection on the blade in my hand.
Truthfully, I wanted to use the sword for myself, not for others. But don't misunderstand. If I saw someone struggling and needing help, I would help them. Still, I wasn't some kind of hero, nor did I plan to become one. I simply wanted to protect myself… to survive. I had been thrown into a world where strength was law and the weak had no voice. I wanted to be strong, strong enough that no one would ever touch me again.
I was sold as a slave because I was frail and weak. I never wanted to feel that helplessness again. Not ever.
After all, the only person one could truly trust was oneself.
"I want to wield the sword so I can grow strong enough to never feel helpless again," I said firmly. "I hate that feeling. I want my sword to be unbreakable and unshakeable, no matter what adversity I face on my path. I don't care about glory. Fuck that." I met Arthur's golden eyes. "I'm no hero. I don't plan to save everyone I meet, but I'm not blind to injustice." I paused, then added with a faint smile, "And I don't plan to be a murderer either. I'm not crazy."
"A sword that does not break…" Arthur murmured after I finished speaking.
He was surprised by my words. He had met many teenagers my age who desired strength for shallow reasons: power, wealth, women, or pride. Most noble children especially wanted strength for worthless purposes. Compared to the older generation, the new one carried a flawed mindset, though not all of them.
And Lucas was not one of them.
He didn't want the sword for domination or fame, but for survival. Arthur understood that feeling very well. When I spoke of helplessness, he knew exactly what I meant. Being sold as a slave, stripped of choice. That was one of the reasons he had taken me as his disciple.
Even so, I will still watch. Actions speak louder than words. Arthur thought.
Nodding, Arthur said, "Good words for a kid. I'll make sure to give you a proper hand."
I smiled in gratitude.
"This is your first time using a sword, so we'll start with the basics," Arthur said. "Practice swings, stances, and footwork." He began circling around me, his hands clasped behind his neck. "These are essential. And from now on, you'll be training your body to its limits. I know you already have a decent physique, but that's not enough for my sword art. You'll be doing things like running ten kilometers and a thousand push-ups, pull-ups, and more."
A chill ran down my spine at his last words.
Arthur patted my shoulder. "It's going to be hell for you, my dear disciple."
I instantly regretted accepting his offer. There was no way in hell I could run ten kilometers every single day.
"Um… actually, I take it back. I don't want to be your disciple anymore."
"There's no going back," Arthur said with a smile.
I'm cooked.
—
We started with swings.
Gripping the hilt tightly, I swung my sword horizontally, cutting through the air with a swoosh. I was clumsy, but I didn't mind. That was how it was supposed to be.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp smack on my back.
Smack!
"W-what was that for?!"
"Straighten your back and don't grip the sword so tightly. Relax," Arthur said calmly.
I followed his advice, loosening my grip slightly, and performed a diagonal swing.
Pain exploded across my shoulders as Arthur struck both of them with frightening speed.
"Argh!"
Are his hands made of steel?! That hurts like hell!
"Relax your shoulders. Don't be so tense." Then he kicked the back of my knees, forcing me down. "Steady your footing. How do you expect to be a swordsman if you can't even stand properly?"
I nodded, got back up, and repeated the movements. Relaxing my shoulders, keeping my back straight, lowering my stance, and extending my right foot forward while my left stayed behind, I moved and thrust my sword.
Pain flared in my joints.
Noticing my discomfort, Arthur spoke. "The pain you're feeling is natural. Your body isn't used to these movements since you've never practiced any martial art before."
I nodded.
I really hadn't practiced any form of martial arts in this life. I could have tried earlier, but it would've been pointless before awakening. Hand-to-hand combat might have been possible, but the thought never even crossed my mind.
Minutes turned into hours as I kept swinging my sword under Arthur's guidance. The repeated smack sounds of him correcting me echoed throughout the garden.
Huff, huff. My white shirt was soaked with sweat, as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over me. My hands, legs, and feet ached from the strain, but I kept going.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward again. My feet brushed through the grass as I carefully advanced. I delivered a vertical slash. It was no longer clumsy. Improved, but still far from perfect.
I could feel myself improving, even though it was only my first day. I wasn't being arrogant or calling myself a genius, just honest.
Arthur watched silently as I continued on my own. He no longer struck me. I had already grasped the basics.
He adapts quickly, especially for his first day. Arthur analyzed every movement with his golden eyes. There's still much to improve, but we'll get there.
After four more hours of forcing my body to adapt, Arthur's voice finally broke my focus. "You can stop now. We're done for today."
The moment I heard those words, I dropped the sword and collapsed onto the grass. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I gasped for air.
"My body hurts," I groaned.
Every part of me hurt. Not a single muscle was spared.
I stared up at the sky, now filled with stars.
"Damn… it's already night," I muttered.
Without realizing it, I had trained until nightfall. The stars looked beautiful, and for some reason, I felt a strange connection to them. I raised my right hand, reaching toward the unreachable sky, fully aware it was impossible.
Then a shadow fell over my face.
Arthur's face appeared above me, wearing that insufferably wide grin.
For some reason, I really wanted to punch him in the face.