Improved Swordsmanship with Fang's Disciples [Class Training | Private]

Adrastos had finished the first portion of his training that strengthened his body and hand-to-hand combat, but he had been resting for a full week now.The magician thirsted for more. When would he be give his next tasks? Would Fang Mu tell him or some underling? Adrastos paced and rubbed the back of his neck. Perhaps he’d be training with swords and doing more physical training.

Interrupting his time alone, a knock upon the door to his quarters broke the silence. Upon answering the door, Adrastos would find a man standing in front of him with a somewhat friendly smile. There were many who learned beneath Fang Mu on this mountain top, and each person had their own sense of morals. Fang Mu’s teaching was different from others. He did not care whether or not somebody was villainous; all that mattered was personal power. This was something he continuously drilled into the minds of the disciples.

This, he explained, was true for both paths. Fang Mu’s teachings went beyond the duality of good versus evil, and existed in a grey state; strength. The personal strength to protect what is important to them, whether that be their well-being, their wealth, their desires, their family, friends. Many paths lead to one place; strength.

In front of Adrastos was what many would consider a normal person. From interactions during his stay, Kerro proved to be a competent guide who did would not hold back on any information about the facilities. “Neo, Master Fang advised it’s time for you to learn some more about swordsmanship. Come to the courtyard when you are ready.”

The magician nodded. He felt disturbed by the overly friendly smile. Sure, Fang Mu didn’t care about a person’s motive. Whether they good, neutral or evil, none of it mattered. Of course, Adrastos understood. He had only wanted power from the moment he was a child, and it didn’t matter what it took to get said power. Adrastos didn’t care if he had to bloody his hands. There was just one other thing the magician believed in: sometimes power could be earned, but it could also be taken. Those who were defeated easily had no use for whatever power they had. Those who gave up didn’t deserve to strive for power. None of that meant Adrastos felt comfortable with these overly friendly types such as the man at his door.

“I’ll be on my way,” Adrastos informed. He looked himself over in a long mirror in the corner of his room. He wore a long black sleeveless coat with silver patterns etched all over the fabric. It complimented his silver hair and eyes, didn’t contrast too much, and complimented his arm muscles rather well. His pants and shoes were plain black tho, as there was no need to draw attention there. With a nod, he turned away from the mirror. Adrastos grabbed Niut, his new sword, as he walked out the door and headed toward the courtyard with the sword resting in its sheath that was hung across his back, the strap crossing his torso.

Kerro was awaiting Adrastos’ arrival, wielding a sword of his own. The sun was out, casting shadows against the floor. “If you would like to begin? I will start off slow and then begin to increase my pace. Throughout the fight I’ll provide tips.” The intention behind this was to begin directly with combat experience. There was no way the Magician would grasp the intricacies of swordsmanship right off the bat, however to get a taste of it was not impossible.

Adrastos weighed his sword in his hand. The handle wasn’t long enough for him to use both hands like Tenma showed him, so the techniques would be different. He held the sword in his right hand while his left hand was raised a little higher than his waist and spread his feet apart. The magician wasn’t entirely sure on what to do next. He watched the other man like a hawk with his silver eyes. Then, he closed the distance to bring his sword downward in a diagonal manner.

Kerro stepped forward, bringing up his blade from inside the attack while flicking his wrist outward. The blades clashed, with Adrastos’ being knocked back to the direction it came from. “When you block, always try to block with the flat of the blade. You risk dulling the edge otherwise.” As he spoke he continued with a counter attack, stabbing forward to strike Adrastos in the gut.

The magician swatted Kerro’s blade to the side with the flat of the blade. The tip should have been obvious to anyone, even a novice, but Adrastos didn't reply. Instead, he thrust his sword forward to pierce his left shoulder. “How long have you been here?” Their conversations would be stagnant if not informative thanks to the tips Kerro would provide throughout the session. Adrastos figured he'd get as much information as he could, even if it seemed small or unimportant.

Kerro’s feet moved, and his upper body followed. Only the right side of Kerro’s body was facing Adrastos at this time, deftly having entered a fencing stance and avoiding the thrust. “Four years. Try to use the least movement in order to respond to the battle situation.” Kerro continued to provide advice; he had only heard that Adrastos was a novice in the blade, so he began with simple pieces of information. Bending his wrist back and flicking it forward caused a beautiful arc of steel to descend, aiming to vertically slice Adrastos from the top of his head down to his neck. “Control the strength of your attacks so they do not create unnecessary openings.” If more power was put into Kerro’s attack, and Adrastos dodged the strike, it would have created a larger opening for the Magician to exploit.

Adrastos turned his body with a small sidestep so that it would be parallel to the blade aimed vertically and miss its target. Meanwhile, he swung his blade at Kerro’s side. “Four years, huh? How long do you plan on staying? I’m sure after four years you’ve learned much here, so why are you still here?” Adrastos hoped he didn’t have to stay longer than he should have. There was still much to do, though he wasn’t sure what those things were. He just knew he didn’t have four years to spare in a place like this even if the ultimate goal was to gain power.

Adrastos handled the attack well, returning one of his own. “I’m only interested in pursuing the pinnacle.” Kerro brought his blade over as he answered Adrastos’ question, intercepting the attack before sending out a front kick to Adrastos’ gut. “Don’t forget to include combinations. The rest of your body can be used as a weapon.” While tying up difficult weapons, the use of other limbs in combat would give an edge to those who could perform such techniques. Whether this causes harm to the opponent, or helps one create a gap in their defense or in distance between the two, all of these could benefit a fighter.

The silver-haired magician crouched low to the ground and spun to sweep-kick Kerro’s planted foot out from under him as he attacked. As he completed his spin, he rose to his feet and slashed horizontally at Kerro’s chest. He had planned to get him off balance enough to at least land an attack, no matter how minor the damage. “The pinnacle? Like trying to be the strongest?”

Kerro quickly bent his remaining knee before pushing off the ground, jumping over Adrastos’ leg sweep. His bladework showed few gaps, however Adrastos’ response pressed him to defend. An opening appeared on his right side, available for Adrastos to take advantage of. “Breaking the shackles of humanity, exceeding the common sense of what a person is capable of. There is a ceiling of strength, but certain insights can allow you to break past this.”

Keeping up with his momentum, Adrastos swung his leg at Kerro’s right side once he noticed the opening. “I suppose that sounds interesting. Especially if you’re claiming someone can break the barrier.”

Kerro coughed as the kick struck his side, but otherwise solidified his stance. “It is no simple claim. In fact, you’ve already met people who have done so.” Kerro kicked off the ground, putting distance between the two before switching to a left-handed grip. “Be careful, I was fighting with my off-hand before.” Immediately his speed and strength increased, translating into a tougher intensity of his attacks.

For the rest of their spar, Kerro’s attacks became more ferocious in both speed and strength. Adrastos felt pressured. He often stumbled, his flesh slashed open, and clothes torn. By the end of the day, he had to retire the clothes he wore and bandage himself. This process was repeated daily, sometimes with Kerro and sometimes with other skilled fighters. Each time, Adrastos got a little better, learned a bit more. By the end of two weeks, Adrastos felt like he was on the same level as Kerro and the others he sparred with. Soon, he’d be a season swordsman.

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Warrior Class Training: 1,525/1,000