19 Ch. 19: Training [2]
The reason why Nathaniel was against their sparring was that Adrian had lost his memories, which took away his recollection of how cruel that old man could be. There was a time when Adrian had sparred with him and his brother passed out with a body full of bruises. That was the first and the last time they sparred, or you could say, Walter had lost interest in Adrian.
So, why now? Was it because Adrian was able to run for 30 minutes? Nathaniel didn't understand the old man's way of thinking. His golden eyes fixed on the field, his apprehension evident as Adrian and Walter stood in the center, flanked by three knights who served as referees.
"Haa…" Nathaniel couldn't help but release a nervous sigh, his hope resting on his little brother's well-being.
Adrian looked at the wooden sword in his hand. 'What a surprise.'
Who would have thought the HEMA club he joined just for fun in his previous life would come in handy? HEMA, which stood for historical European martial arts, was a realistic re-creation of duels based on the fighting techniques of the Renaissance era.
It had only been around since the late '90s when scholars began translating over 400 years of German and Italian battle treatises into English. The most popular form of HEMA was the basic longsword technique, so he shouldn't have any problem as it was no different from fencing.
"En garde!"
Adrian took a deep breath and clenched the hilt tightly before assuming on guard stance.
Walter sneered, just look at that little imp. Let alone remembering every kind of stance, the old Adrian didn't even know how to hold the sword properly. Just–how far did he hide his power?
"Prêts?" The knight's gaze swept over Adrian and Walter, ensuring their readiness. "Allez!"
The moment the word fell, Walter thrust his sword, aiming at Adrian's throat. React instinctively, Adrian leaned his head backward, allowing Walter's sword to pass by his neck, and hastily leaped rearward to create some distance.
Regaining his footing, Adrian poised himself defensively. Yet, to his surprise, Walter erupted into a fit of maniacal laughter.
"Hahaha!!" Locking eyes with Adrian's cerulean eyes, the old man quipped. "You little brat!"
Adrian couldn't help but furrow his brows at the old man's snide remark.
"I see. So, you've been fooling me, huh?" Walter murmured under his breath, barely audible.
"Pardon?" Adrian was perplexed, he had no idea what the hell was he talking about.
Without warning, Walter lunged forward and brandished his sword diagonally, prompting Adrian to raise his sword.
–Thwack!
Their swords clashed and Adrian felt the impact reverberate through his hands, sending a sharp sting of pain up his arms. Retrieving their weapons, they waved them anew.
–Thwack!
Their sword collided and locked together, emitting a raspy sound as they scraped against each other. Upon exerting their pressure on the blades, Walter, noticing his pupil's grimace of pain, couldn't resist a taunt. "So, how does it feel to be able to fool everyone? Is it fun?"
Adrian's brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn't grasp the meaning behind Walter's words. 'Fooling everyone?' The question lingered in his mind, deepening the wrinkle on his forehead. But wait, was it referring to how he faked his memory loss?
Twirling his wrist, Adrian deftly shoved Walter's blade away, then hopped backward to create some distance between them. "Haa... Haa..." he panted, his hands trembling from the force of the collision. Meeting the old man's gaze, Adrian answered. "I'm not sure what you mean, Sir."
"Ha!" Walter scoffed before jumping forward with his sword poised to attack.
–Thwack!
"Urg!" Adrian staggered backward, the force of the blow nearly knocking him off balance. Regaining his footing, Adrian raised his head only to find Walter's feral eyes looking down at him.
"What do you gain from doing so?"
"..." Since responding would only make his lie more obvious, Adrian chose to remain silent.
"Why the silence?"
Ignoring him, Adrian stood on guard. As his pupil remained silent, Walter clicked his tongue in annoyance and dashed toward him, prompting Adrian to mirror his movements. Once they drew closer, they swung their swords.
–Thwack!
The clash of their swords echoed loudly across the training ground. Retrieving their weapons, they prepared to engage again. However, to Walter's surprise, Adrian swiftly grabbed his wrist, halting his attack. A flicker of astonishment crossed Walter's face.
Unbeknownst to Walter, Adrian had been analyzing his movements since the duel started. Of course, he wasn't merely defending himself; he studied his opponent's behavior to look for opportunities to counterattack.
Seizing the opportunity, Adrian swung his sword, only for Walter to swiftly clutch Adrian's hand holding the sword mid-air, perfectly imitating his action.
"Huh?!" Adrian flinched, caught off guard by Walter's unexpected move.
Without hesitation, Walter swiftly swept his leg, delivering a powerful kick to Adrian's side. The force sent Adrian hurtling sideways, causing him to tumble several times before coming to a stop on the ground.
"Cough, cough!" A mouthful of saliva jumped out of Adrian's mouth and his chest tightened with pain, struggling to catch his breath. "Haa... haa..."
It might look like a dirty trick, but on the battlefield, the enemy didn't just use weapons–they would use anything to kill their opponent. And it was foolish of him to think that this was similar to fencing.
Groaning, Adrian sat up, his head spinning with dizziness. "Argh!" He clutched his head, the overwhelming sensation threatening to overpower him. "Haa... haa..."
Adrian had reached his limit. What was worse, he was on the verge of fainting – the symptom said it all. However, something landed on his neck, causing Adrian to lift his head, but everything was blurred.
"You're dead," Walter spoke coldly, his face devoid of any expression.
Observing Adrian's exhausted state, Walter deduced that the boy had not fully recovered. More significantly, he was convinced that Adrian was concealing his true strength. The evidence was undeniable.
Had it been the old Adrian, the fight would have concluded swiftly with the initial strike. Yet, Adrian persisted, defending himself admirably and even attempting a cunning counterattack – albeit unsuccessful.
"You little brat, I will expose all of your deceit," Walter vowed.
"..." Adrian had no idea how or where the old man found out he was faking his memory loss.
However, the fact that he spoke so quietly the whole time meant that Walter didn't want this to be known by anyone; he wanted it to remain a secret. Of course, it was merely his assumption, nevertheless, he just hoped it was true.
–Piii.
The sound of a whistle reverberated through the air, signaling the end of the duel session.
"The winner is Sir Walter!" the knight declared, announcing the victor.
With that, Walter withdrew his sword from Adrian's neck. "You can rest."
"Thank you." And honestly speaking, it sounded like heaven's blessing to Adrian.
Shortly after, Adrian pushed himself to rise, but his body felt weightless, causing him to lurch forward. Fortunately, someone caught him before he could kiss the ground, followed by a voice laced with concern.
"Are you okay?"
It was Nathaniel.
Adrian turned to the sound, but his eyes refused to grant him sight.
"Haa…" The black-haired boy sighed inwardly. What a foolish question Nathaniel had asked. Just look at him, Adrian was panting heavily, sweat dripping all over him, and his body trembling like a newborn deer!
Immediately, Nathaniel scooped Adrian up onto his back and began to move sideways.
Adrian conveyed his gratitude. "Thank you." It was barely audible but Nathaniel was able to catch it, and his lips curved up.
Nathaniel nodded, "Don't mention it."
However, Nathaniel's smile vanished when a voice echoed throughout the training ground. "Get your ass over here once you're done!"
The corner of Nathaniel's mouth quivered in annoyance. 'Stupid old man!' Placing Adrian gently on a nearby bench, he smiled. "Wait here okay?"
Adrian nodded weakly, and Nathaniel veered around to face Walter. With determination blazing in his eyes, Nathaniel drew his real sword and charged towards Walter, shouting, "I will kill you!"
.
.
.
Adrian stared at the black-haired boy sitting next to him. His body and face were covered with bruises, with bloodstains at the corner of his mouth and under his nose.
"Are you... okay?" Adrian asked, concern evident in his voice.
Nathaniel glanced at him, his expression furrowed with frustration. He looked at Adrian as if he were some strange creature. "You should worry about yourself."
He spoke with a tinge of bitterness, knowing that Adrian had endured the same grueling training session as him. They had taken turns sparring with Walter until the Martial Arts class ended – it had been nothing short of hell.
Nathaniel clenched his fist tightly, his voice heavy with exasperation. "I will kill that old man one day!"
It was true that Nathaniel did turn back time, but he only retained his memories, not his powers. So, he had to start everything from scratch – which was annoying.
Nathaniel took out two potions and offered one to Adrian, yet the younger boy shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."
Nathaniel sighed. "You can rest assured, this is not poison."
"I know."
"Then why?" he demanded an explanation.
"I want the wound to heal by itself," Adrian explained. He wanted his body to grow accustomed to pain. It wasn't that he was a masochist, but learning to endure it could increase his endurance.
Nathaniel arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
Nathaniel sighed once again, realizing he wouldn't convince Adrian otherwise. He drank the potion and stowed another one back into his Magical Sphere.
Fredinand approached them and bowed. "Pardon me, Your Highness, it's time for your next schedule."
"I understand." Adrian stood, and Nathaniel followed suit.
As a thought struck him, Adrian asked, "I heard you're leaving for the Academy tomorrow?"
"That's right. You'll see me off, won't you?" Nathaniel smiled gently, his eyes filled with hope.
But somehow, Adrian found himself unable to respond.
"Will you?" Nathaniel asked again, his tone dipped with uncertainty.
After a brief silence, Adrian eventually gave his answer. "I'm sorry."
"Ah…" Nathaniel's once-arched lips now fell into a thin line, surprise coloring his face. "I... I see..." His hope seemed to crumble, yet he forced a smile and shrugged. "You're still recovering, so it's understandable."
"..."
"Ah, I have something for you." Nathaniel took something out and extended his hand. "Here."
Resting in his palm was a familiar pouch. Without needing to peek inside, Adrian knew...
It was cookies.
And the recollection of how he wept all night long flooded his head. Without beating around the bush, Adrian spat his mind. "Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline."
There was no way he would eat those things again.
"..." Nathaniel's smile dissipated into thin air. Sadness, anger, disappointment, surprise–everything mixed into an indescribable expression.
The atmosphere thinned and awkwardness filled the air as Nathaniel remained silent for a full minute. It feels uncomfortable and suffocating at the same time.
In the end, Adrian spoke to break the silence. "If there's nothing, then I will take my leave. Goodbye."
Nathaniel withdrew his hand and responded. "Goodbye."
With that, Adrian and Fredinand made their way toward the entrance of the training ground. Nathaniel's golden eyes followed them until their silhouettes disappeared from view, and he let the pouch slip from his grasp.
"Haha." Nathaniel chuckled dryly as he saw the scattered cookies on the ground around his shoes.
"It's over." The trust he had built over the years crumbled into nothing. He clenched his fists tightly until his knuckles turned white, blood dripping from his palms.
"It's… over…"
.
.
.
=====
A/N: End of the Prologue / 1st Arc.
