Swordsmanship Class (4)
“Ha.”
Zeke clicked his tongue.
‘Iriel Eustia. Now this is interesting.’
Truth be told, out of all the students Zeke was teaching, Iriel, along with Selena, was at the very bottom of the barrel.
As daughters of the Duke's family, they’d never had to exert themselves physically.
Though Iriel had a slight edge in natural physique, Selena had been training independently, so the difference between the two was negligible.
However, once Selena awakened her overwhelming mana and began to control it, Iriel became the sole laggard.
‘That’s why I thought it would be quite a hassle to train her….’
When talking about daggers, the most crucial elements often cited were 'speed' and 'sleight of hand.'
These two factors were frequently emphasized.
This was because daggers had one overwhelming disadvantage compared to other weapons: their reach.
Therefore, daggers were generally considered secondary weapons rather than primary ones.
Even when used as primary weapons, it was essential to either enhance one's speed or, taking advantage of their concealed nature, hone one's skills in stealthy hand techniques to overcome this shortcoming.
Of course, this line of thinking wasn't wrong.
‘With the Short Thunder training she’ll learn later, I can drill those two things into her in no time. Though it’ll be excruciatingly painful.’
From Zeke’s perspective, those two factors could be dismissed as less important.
There was another quality he considered more crucial for Iriel's use of daggers.
An ability that was both difficult to cultivate and time-consuming to teach.
Judgment.
The ability to reason using logic and intuition, and make accurate assessments.
Dagger users were inevitably required to exploit the gaps between their opponents' weapons.
In other words, the ability to distinguish between empty and vital points, to decide when to retreat and when to press an attack, was paramount for a dagger user.
Ultimately, such judgment had to be honed in real combat.
No matter how flawlessly one could make decisions in a hundred out of a hundred hypothetical situations, it was meaningless without risk.
In a life-or-death situation where a single mistake could be fatal, expecting someone to perform as they would under normal circumstances was unrealistic.
Only a handful of individuals possessed the ability to remain calm and collected in the face of real danger, capable of weighing lives as if they were mere trifles.
‘In that regard, I hadn't held out much hope, considering she was the infamously dim-witted Princess…’
Therefore, Zeke's original plan was to subject Iriel to a barrage of attacks, blurring the lines between feints and genuine strikes, forcing her body to learn through experience.
The process of achieving instinctive reactions would have been tedious and lengthy.
However, through this recent incident, Iriel seemed to have developed an abnormally keen intuition for sensing murderous intent.
‘Good. This will make things much easier.’
Zeke smiled with satisfaction.
"Iriel, have you noticed any changes in your personality lately?"
"Hmm… Personality? I don't know… I feel like… I can do anything."
She answered with a bright smile, pleased with herself.
Iriel was proud of herself for not even flinching at the previous attack, and she was happy that Zeke seemed to appreciate it.
‘I'll have to observe her personality a little longer.’
It seemed her personality had become a little more bubbly.
And it was annoying that she wasn't using honorifics anymore.
However, since he didn't feel like it would have a negative impact on him, Zeke nodded.
"Good. You did well, Iriel."
"Hehe, you like me?"
Iriel blinked.
"As for the rest, we'll figure it out through practical tests."
Zeke went into the warehouse and brought out ten lightweight balls.
Each ball was the size of a fist. Iriel could probably hold all ten if she hugged them to her chest.
"What's that? A ball…?"
Iriel tilted her head and asked.
"Yes, it's a test to assess your agility and judgment."
"?"
"Fetch training."
At the words “fetch training,” Soi, who was still lost in thought with the poison in her hand, flinched.
Zeke continued speaking, ignoring her.
"This training is simple. I throw these balls, and you pick them up and bring them back to me."
"What? That's easy."
"Hmm, well… It's not as easy as it sounds."
"If you throw them one by one, I just have to bring them back to you one by one, right?"
Zeke shook his head.
"I'll be throwing the balls consecutively, in different directions, at unpredictable times."
"I can't let them touch the ground, right?"
Zeke nodded.
"You can bring back one ball at a time, or you can catch all ten and bring them all at once."
"Hmm..."
"You need to judge how many balls you can catch at once, bring them back to me, and make sure you don't miss the next ball."
It sounded simple, but it wasn't.
In this training, Iriel had to judge how many more balls she could catch while already holding some, and when returning them, she couldn't just throw them back haphazardly.
She had to gauge the distance between her and Zeke and calculate the optimal route that wouldn't make her miss the next incoming ball.
On top of all that, agility was a given.
"Zeke, I think I can move really, really fast."
However, Iriel said, her face full of confidence, as if she wasn't worried at all.
"Alright, I'm counting on you."
"Okay!"
Zeke quickly threw a ball.
Whoosh!
"You missed them all, Iriel."
Zeke said, pressing his forehead with his fingers.
"But wasn't I fast?"
Iriel replied with a shameless face.
Zeke closed his eyes slowly.
***
Thus began Iriel and Soi's swordsmanship training.
Meanwhile, Rosnante, Selena, and Yuri Gilbert were practicing their downward strikes through iron bars.
The gap between the bars was barely wide enough.
The wooden swords, with sandbags tied to them, had to pass through that narrow space.
Large beads of sweat dripped down from Rosnante's forehead, tracing paths along his cheeks and dripping from his chin.
His eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the minuscule gap between the tip of his sword and the iron bar.
The tip of his sword trembled, and his grip on the sword shook as if he had a bad case of the jitters.
Clink.
The side of the wooden sword lightly grazed the iron bar.
"Rosnante, again."
A cold voice rang out, despite the barely-there touch.
Rosnante had thought he could slack off a bit with Zeke Clayman gone, but Eric, who had joined them as an assistant instructor, was even more inflexible.
Rosnante quickly averted his gaze and glared at Eric's smug face before clicking his tongue.
‘Damn it!’
He had managed to get the sword halfway through on his first attempt, but the distance he could pass it through kept decreasing with each try.
Rosnante wanted nothing more than to throw the wooden sword down on the ground right now.
His palms stung, his arm muscles ached, and he felt like he was about to get a cramp.
‘It's not like I'm used to shoving long rods into tight spaces, seeing as I'm still a virgin!’
Rosnante, scarred by his past experiences, only dared to think his vulgar jokes in his head.
"Rosnante, again."
Ultimately, his attempt ended in failure once more.
He lifted his head to look at the two girls who were undergoing the same training.
Selena and Yuri, their faces flushed, were also struggling.
"Selena Yohaiden, Yuri Gilbert."
Rosnante called out to them.
"Both of you, again. Your swords touched the bars."
At Eric's words, they snapped their heads up and glared at Rosnante.
As if they would have succeeded if he hadn't interrupted them.
"Ah, no, you would have failed anyway…"
Rosnante stammered, flustered.
"I had a good feeling about that one!"
"How would you know?!"
Rosnante flinched as they both snapped at him.
He had expected it from Selena, but he hadn't thought Yuri Gilbert would raise her voice like that.
“A-anyway, my arms are shaking so badly they won't move."
"...."
"So, what are you trying to say?"
Selena asked.
"I'm going to demand a break for our arms to recover, even if the enemy won't give us one."
"To whom…? Surely not the Instructor?"
"Of course it's the Instructor. Who else would it be?"
Selena looked puzzled at his words.
"….I don't think he'll allow it…"
"Even if he doesn't want to, we have to make him allow it."
"….How?"
Rosnante's face hardened with determination.
"I'll put my honor on the line."
"What!? You can't do that!"
Selena exclaimed, stopping Rosnante.
Rosnante felt a surge of satisfaction at Selena's concern and nodded.
"It's alright. After all, the responsibility lies with those in higher positions…"
"He'll definitely say no then!"
"….Honor is useless, you bed-wetting prince…"
Selena looked at him as if he was beyond hope. And then, Yuri's quiet critical hit.
Rosnante's eyes wavered.
‘Just what do these girls think of me….’
“E-enough! I’ll go myself. I’ll settle this!”
Thump.
Thump.
Rosnante marched confidently towards Zeke.
Zeke raised an eyebrow at the sight.
“Hm? Rosnante, you’re just in time.”
“Eh?”
“Spar with Elise for a bit.”
Rosnante’s gaze shifted slightly, landing on Elise, whose eyes were devoid of their usual spark and drool trickling down her chin.
“W-well, I… I came here because I was having trouble with my sword training…”
“Grrrr….”
“Huh?”
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