18 Chapter 6. Training. Part 3.

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***

Training after that significant conversation with the master took off, and let me tell you, it was something else. Thousands of repetitions of the most basic sword strikes? Yes. Every single day. Though now, the physical training was minimal, mostly the master focused on my flexibility and coordination.

Yes, for now, I was just hopping from one end to the other on logs placed side by side, each about a meter and a half long. But something tells me this is just the beginning, especially considering the gadgets surrounding this setup.

And running hasn't gone anywhere. It seems running took up the most time, and I would be happy, but you can't use airbending here. The master was cultivating endurance in me, oh how he was cultivating it.

The first problems arose when I started sparring with Fat. Just fights with wooden swords, in special armor. And here's where the snag came: I couldn't fight properly, all my instincts wanted to dodge and by no means take a hit on a block. But counterattacking from a block is a significant part of sword fighting in principle. And as soon as I attack Fat, I run into a block and a counterattack, from which it's hard to dodge.

It turned into a deadlock where Fat couldn't hit me until I tried to attack, and then I would lose.

During one such sparring session, the Master, always watching, stopped us at the peak:

"Stop," he said, and we froze, "Aki, now you're not allowed to move from your spot. And you, Fat, can only counterattack."

Needless to say, it was a beating for me. Every time I tried to strike, I immediately received a counterblow, which, by the way, left a decent bruise. And still, I tried to dodge rather than block. It was just beyond me - reflexes. We went on like this for half an hour, and the master stopped us again.

"Alright, let's go back to how it was, only now, Aki, you're alone against the two of us," the teacher ordered, taking a wooden sword and standing behind me.

I twisted and turned like a fish on a pan, but to my surprise, I dodged almost all the strikes - sometimes the Master still got me. After about ten minutes, he stopped the sparring again.

"Hmm," Piandao hummed, stroking his chin while looking at me, "the sword definitely doesn't suit you. It flounders in your hand, and you do almost nothing with it. You need something that suits your fighting style, something... lighter and designed only for attack."

With those words, he left us, Fat and me, to look at each other in bewilderment. What now? He didn't leave any instructions. Well, I still have plenty to keep me busy.

We weren't put into sparring for a long time, and the master began teaching me how to properly attack with a sword. I wasn't the first to prefer dodging; in fact, there are many like that, but as the teacher said, you can't become a Sword Master that way. So, he taught me how to attack correctly to avoid counterattacks. It turned out to be an interesting thing, but I had to maintain distance, mostly trying to get into the opponent's vulnerable zone and deliver a quick strike. Not heavy, without a swing, just a stab or a light cut, the main thing is speed. A fraction of a second, during which the opponent won't have time to react.

Easier said than done, of course. The obvious target area is the back, but even with all my speed, I had to manage to get behind it. So, I often tried to dodge towards the side where the opponent's hand was empty. Fat quickly realized this, so the sparrings turned into a beating for me again, but an unsuspecting opponent I will manage. Probably.

A wooden sword, even with the right balance, is far from a real one, but the master relentlessly made me spar with Fat.

"Understand, Akimaru, no matter what weapon you're given right now, you're starting from zero," the teacher decided to enlighten me one day about the reasons behind his actions. "You don't know how to fight. Later, when you at least reach a minimum warrior's threshold, you'll start noticing what your weapon lacks or how to exploit your opponent's tactical flaws. But for now, whether it's a stick, a sword, or nunchucks in your hand, you'll just be dodging and trying to land a harder hit on your opponent. I want to make you a Master, not just a simple fighter."

At that time, I didn't understand what he meant. After all, isn't that the principle of all fights? Avoid getting hit and hit your opponent. But I took his wisdom to heart and diligently tried to grasp it during my training.

One day, the master decided to teach me another crucial skill for a fighter. For the first time, we both left the estate together and headed to a mountain that offered a beautiful view of a waterfall and a river.

"In battle, you'll only have a moment to memorize your surroundings," of course, he blindfolded me first, and as soon as the blindfold was removed, I saw the magnificent view. It couldn't compare to that cursed mountain on the coal islands, but it was quite something. Then, I was immediately turned around, facing a brush and canvas, "Draw."

And so I drew, as best as I could. I'm absolutely no artist, but that didn't bother the master. In the evenings, he taught me to paint various scenes, starting from the basics. We didn't spend much time on this, but I detested these lessons.

Because we were drawing his maids in various outfits or even naked. And those scheming women posed in ways to show themselves in the best light possible.

Here's the story - it turns out this wasn't exactly the master's harem. It was more like a peculiar escort service. The girls were almost not required to do anything: cleaning the house once a week wasn't that hard with such a crew, but their main duties were at night. They knew what they were signing up for, and they were more than willing to spend time with the legendary Piandao, who keeps himself in great shape, considering their salary.

But then, many of them thought of seducing me too. Attempts at seduction or even direct offers began, from which I fled. I don't know why, but I fled. Hoping the Master would discipline his... maids, I went to complain after some time.

That was a mistake. It turned out he didn't mind at all; in fact, he was very much in favor, and now, with his official permission, the local girls went wild. And the master was more than happy to help them get to me. Traitor.

So, painting became a real torture for me, much to everyone's delight. Monsters.

Honestly, I don't know why I avoided them so much. In theory, I could've slept with them, and it's not like my body was against it; in fact, it was very much urging me to participate. But I wasn't accustomed to such... if it were the other way around, and I had seduced them, then yes, but this felt odd. Like if you see someone charging at you, you'd run away just in case, so I ran away from them. But I feel this will end soon, oh very soon.

In any case, now the master regularly took me to different places every three days, gave me seconds to memorize the surroundings, and put it on canvas. To be honest, I only felt the effect over time, after months of such lessons, I realized I could precisely remember the environment if I just glanced at it for a second. The result was more than good.

Indeed, where one aspect improves, another may diminish. I've become quite absent-minded. Not exactly like Gildarts from Fairy Tail, as I very precisely control my surroundings; it's more about occasionally getting lost in thought and not noticing someone calling me, or losing track of time. Such tendencies I strictly suppress within myself, but as it turns out, they're not critical issues. There's a strict toggle between combat situations and normal ones. The master suffers from the same, confiding in me that while it's important to stay sharp, these issues aren't fatal.

***

After six months, the results were already quite good, at least for me.

"Begin," the master's voice rang out.

Fat attacked with a simple thrust of his sword, which I dodged to the side. As I attempted to attack from the right side, Fat blocked my light strike and tried to hit me with a standard slashing attack, from which I jumped back, attempting to reach him with my blade's tip. I failed due to the sword's length. Fat then tried a straightforward stabbing thrust, under which I ducked and, straightening up, neatly "scratched" the butler's body with a diagonal strike.

"Stop," the master said, "Aki wins. Still that same fighting style, but apparently, that's the best I can expect from you. You managed to block one thrust, not bad. And I can tell, it seems you're starting to notice your weapon's limitations, aren't you?"

And that was true. More precisely, not in the weapon, but in their number.

"Yes, I need a second sword," I nodded importantly, "With two swords, I can definitely reach Fat."

The master closed his eyes and counted to ten, apparently.

"Alright, try it. Take a second wooden sword," he decided, presumably to teach me a lesson through practice.

"Only, I don't need just any sword. I won't be able to fight long with such heavy weapons in both hands. I need something much lighter and longer."

Yes, I had intended to say this from the start, but the teacher looked too smug, that manipulative scoundrel. I needed to tease him somehow.

At this, Piandao only sighed sorrowfully, mumbling something under his breath, likely prayers to Agni.

"Was that joke about two weapons? I hope so," the master inquired, but seeing the misunderstanding on my face, he continued, "You're more likely to cut yourself than to learn to fight properly with two swords... or any other one-handed weapon. It might work against a crowd of unskilled opponents, but against a skilled swordsman..."

"How many skilled swordsmen are there in the world, master?" I asked, "I only know of you. At least in the Fire Nation. Maybe a couple more among the earthbenders. More often, I'll have to fight against a crowd of various riffraff who can't do anything. And here, a second weapon would be ideal. Moreover, it's not a fact that with my fighting style, a second weapon would significantly hinder me against masters."

After this speech, the Master looked at me for a good thirty seconds, evidently pondering something. This wasn't our first debate on this matter. And it all boils down to the fact that he just doesn't acknowledge weapons in both hands. It's more of a principle than a real necessity. And here I felt increasingly certain that I needed something in my other hand. Any disadvantages of such combat I counteract with my speed, recognized even by the master, and agility.

"Let's first decide on the weapon itself," the Master sighed heavily. I had almost persuaded him, and it was visible. And he knows that I know that he knows. And it slightly infuriates him, "Recently, I was sent... just a sketch, nothing more, of a weapon lost in time, but it perfectly matches your description. A friend of mine on the continent found its description in old books. I don't know why this weapon fell out of use over time, probably just because, like others - spears and pikes are more suitable for the army, and there are no masters to handle more sophisticated swords, but nonetheless. Come here, take a look."

Ascending the steps to the master, I stared at the drawing. It was literally a simple drawing, clearly copied from somewhere, and although it was a quality image, it was far from a blueprint.

The name of this weapon easily came to mind - a rapier. A longer and thinner blade compared to a standard sword and a more voluminous guard protecting the hand. It would be the perfect weapon for me: lighter than a standard sword and allowing for very quick slashing attacks. And since the blade is longer than a standard sword, I could maintain distance and act without letting the enemy close in, thanks to my mobility.

The perfect weapon for me. This was precisely the thought I expressed to the master.

"Yes, only, as you can see, we'll have to make it ourselves. More precisely, you will. Moreover, we'll be choosing the balance through trial and error. So get ready. Now, the time for your training decreases, but the time in the forge increases."

To this, I just sighed heavily.