Master Oswin

The trio finished their meal, and as they parted ways, they made a pact to explore the mysterious noise further. What secrets lay hidden within the walls of the church? They were determined to find out, but little did they know that their investigation would lead them down a dangerous and thrilling path.

As Alex and Jiten walked back to the institute, they chatted about their plans for the day. Alex was relieved to hear that Jiten would be working on his teras anatomy homework, a subject that Alex found particularly difficult. "Hey, Jiten, do you think you could help me with that too?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course, Alex," Jiten replied with a smile. "I'd be happy to help."

Alex's face lit up with gratitude. "Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver."

Jiten chuckled. "No problem, dude. I've got your back."

As they reached the library, Alex and Jiten settled down at a table and got to work. With Jiten's guidance, Alex was able to breeze through his homework in no time. As they finished up, Jiten mentioned that he had to leave to meet his father.

"Okay, man. I'll see you later," Alex said with a wave.

"Take care, Alex," Jiten replied with a smile as he headed out.

Suddenly, Alex felt a pang in his heart as he realized that after his parents died, he had no one waiting for him at home. He longed for companionship, but he didn't know how to change his situation.

Lost in thought, Alex packed up his things and left the library. As he walked out of the institute, someone called out to him from behind. It was Oswin Hart, the sword fighting instructor.

"Mr. Stern, where are you going? It's time to train with your sword," Oswin said, his voice booming with authority.

Alex gulped as he remembered the intensity of Oswin's training sessions. However, at the same time, he felt relieved that he wouldn't be going home to an empty apartment.

"Uh, sure thing, Master Oswin," Alex replied, hoping his voice didn't betray his anxiety.

Alex stood in the training yard, his sword at the ready as Oswin Hart approached. The older man wore a simple tunic and trousers, his greying hair pulled back in a messy bun. He carried a wooden sword, which he swung experimentally before settling into a ready stance.

"Let's begin," he said, his voice gruff.

The two men circled each other warily, waiting for an opening. Oswin made the first move, lunging forward with his sword. Alex blocked the blow and retaliated with a series of quick strikes, but Oswin easily dodged them. They continued to spar, each one testing the other's defenses.

As they fought, Oswin offered advice and corrections. "Keep your stance wider," he instructed. "Don't lock your elbows. Follow through with your strikes."

Alex tried to remember all of Oswin's teachings, but his mind felt foggy. His arms ached, and sweat poured down his face. He stumbled, and Oswin took advantage of the opening, landing a solid blow on Alex's shoulder.

"Ow!" Alex grunted, feeling a sharp pain shoot through his arm.

"Keep your guard up," Oswin chided. "Don't let your focus waver. You can't afford to make mistakes."

Alex had always been fascinated by swordsmanship, and he was lucky to have Oswin Hart as his instructor. Oswin was a burly man with a thick beard and piercing blue eyes. He was an expert in combat, and Alex was eager to learn from him.

As Alex drew his sword, Oswin stepped back and observed him. "The key to swordsmanship is not just strength, but also technique," he said. "A skilled swordsman can defeat a stronger opponent with the right moves and tactics."

With that, Oswin launched into a series of movements, each precise and calculated. He showed Alex how to block incoming attacks and how to strike at his opponent's weak spots. They practiced for hours, sweat pouring down their faces.

"Remember, Alex, speed and accuracy are important, but so is timing," Oswin said, taking a break to wipe his brow. "You need to anticipate your opponent's moves and be ready to strike at the right moment."

Alex nodded, trying to catch his breath. His arms ached, but he knew he had to keep going. He wanted to become a master swordsman like Oswin.

As the training session continued, Oswin gave Alex more advice. "Don't be too predictable, Alex. Your opponent will quickly catch on to your moves if you use the same ones repeatedly. Mix it up and keep them guessing."

They continued to practice, each movement more complex than the last. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Oswin called a halt to the session.

"Good work," he said, his voice gruff but approving. "You're getting better."

Alex couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the praise. Despite the pain and exhaustion, he had managed to hold his own against Oswin, a seasoned warrior with years of experience.

"Thanks," he said, his voice hoarse. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

Oswin clapped him on the back, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Remember, sword fighting isn't just about physical strength. It's about mental fortitude too. You need to be focused, disciplined, and resilient if you want to succeed."

Alex nodded, feeling a sense of clarity wash over him.

After an exhausting training session, Alex lay on the ground, gasping for air. Oswin, his sword-fighting instructor, towered over him with arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.

"You've got potential, kid. In two days, you've learned what a normal kid your age would learn in a year," Oswin gruffly commented. "But you need to work on your form, stamina, and focus."

Alex nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. The intense training session had him dodging Oswin's lightning-fast strikes and trying to land a hit of his own, leaving him humbled.

"Come on, let's get some dinner. You need some protein after a workout like that," Oswin said, offering Alex a hand up.

Alex was surprised by the invitation to dinner. He had never had dinner with Oswin before, and he wasn't sure if it was appropriate. Nevertheless, he was too hungry to care.

As they walked towards the cafeteria, Alex noticed the difference in the atmosphere. Unlike the lively and bustling lunchtime, there were more empty tables and older students and staff members engrossed in their studies.

While walking, Oswin offered some advice, "You're a good kid, Alex. But you've got a lot to learn. You need to be faster, stronger, and smarter if you want to survive in this world."

"Thank you master Oswin" Alex responded.

After Alex's response, Oswin's expression softened. He looked at Alex with a mixture of admiration and concern. "You have talent, Alex. More than I've seen in a long time," Oswin said, his gruff voice low. "But you don't understand. I can't be your master. You're way too talented for me to know how to teach you properly. Normal training won't be enough for you."

Alex's face fell, disappointment washing over him. He had looked up to Oswin, admired him as a mentor, and now Oswin was telling him that he couldn't teach him? It was a blow to Alex's confidence.

"Why not? You're the best swordsman in the continent," Alex said, his voice laced with confusion.

Oswin sighed, downing a cup of wine before speaking again. "Look at me, kid," he said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a massive scar on his shoulder. Alex recoiled at the sight of the violent wound.

"Unfortunately, there are people stronger than me out there," Oswin continued. "I can't teach you how to fight them. You'll need someone better than me."

Alex's mind raced, trying to process Oswin's words. He had never considered that there could be someone stronger than Oswin.