Meant For More

The morning dew was still lingering in the air, slowly condensing to form small droplets of water that trickled down the trimmed blades of grass, the exotic plants and even the trees here. Though there was a lingering fog cloud swirling around the manor's courtyard, it wasn't thick enough to impede one's vision and right now, my focus was locked onto the figure standing before me.

"haah....haaah..."

Now slumped to one knee, the wooden sword in my hand was acting as my only support. Even though I could tell that Michael always held back the majority of his strength, my body was still recoiling from the sharp pains of the bruises that now littered my body. While I did have an innate affinity towards magical forces, the sword was a completely physical art and something I had no talent in, maybe Cynthia had actually missed the mark when she took my future potential into consideration all those years ago.

Michael often said I needed to improve my "muscle memory" and concentrate less on memorizing the motions. With that in mind it was clear that I held no innate talent for the sword and if I were to ever improve in the art then I would need to master it from scratch through sheer hard work. However, despite the ordeals one had to endure when walking this path, the prospect of achieving mastery one day was more than enough to spur me on, after all this was now my two hundred and twenty eighth loss, a stark indication of how glaring of a weakness this was.

With each ragged breath I could feel the warmth of my body fiercely shrugging off the early morning's cold embrace, and ever so often an involuntary shiver would run up my spine. My usually scheduled sparring match with Michael had begun around two hours earlier than usual, I could only take a vague guess at the time but from the look of the dreary sky, I wouldn't put my estimates any further than five O'clock.

"Arlen, how about a little break?" Stepping through the fog, Michaels muscular frame staved off the cold air like it wasn't even there.

"A-Alright father."

At his word I promptly released my grip on the blades hilt, falling flat on my back. Perhaps I was getting used to these consecutive losses because even though I was now flat on my back, I didn't feel the slightest hint of shame, after all Michael was strong.

Still standing proud his shirtless figure gazed at the open sky, resting the wooden sword across his shoulder and watching the scarce clouds in the vast expanse that were so far apart it felt like they were already making way for the inevitable sunrise.

"How are you feeling?" Glancing at me with a smirk, he jeeringly asked.

"Good enough for one more round....I guess?"

"Hahaha.....One more round won't do you any good in that condition. Come back after your mom patches you up."

"Will do....."

A cold wisp of wind blew over us, and with its passing I slowly watched the expression on Michael's face mellow out into something more serious.

"Arlen, do you know why you've been training so hard?"

That question sounded rhetoric at first but based on his expression I quickly thought otherwise.

"To get stronger right?"

"Well, there's more to it than just that. Of course, getting stronger is a part of it but it's what you intend to do with that strength that actually matters. For me, my strength is honed for one simple purpose, it's to protect you, your mother, and all the people here in the Vesper domain. That's why I joined the phalanx brigade in the first place, we have to maintain the order and safety of everyone here in Drakonis, and that even includes fighting the monsters outside these walls."

His tone wasn't boastful, but instead a stern one that conveyed a sense of pride and honor.

"Aren't you scared of fighting monsters?"

"Of course, monsters are unpredictable creatures after all. You never know what they might end up doing so its honestly nothing but trouble. But then again, If I don't do it people will die so I have to fight."

"Ohhh....So then does that mean Grandma Cynthia is fighting monsters and protecting everyone else like you?"

That question seemed to have caught him off guard, the blank stare he gave me was a silent confirmation of the fact.

"O-Of course your grandma protects people, but she doesn't work with the paladins like I do. Her organization is called "Pleiades" and they mostly operate outside the country."

"So that's why she hardly visits us...."

"Yea, your grandma can get really busy sometimes."

I hadn't seen Cynthia in over a year, the most we got from her were either presents or the occasional letter. She was obviously a talented magus so having her around would speed things up for me but I suppose that couldn't be helped.

"Arlen, I asked you that question earlier just to get your gears in order. One day you'll have to discern the meaning behind your own strength and what you're going to use it for so think about it long and hard, understand?"

"Yes father."

The stern look on his face softened for a brief moment, a slight pause amidst all the muscular contractions that graced his features.

"The life of a noble isn't especially easy you know, there's going to be a lot of competition coming your way and you're going to make both allies and enemies. I wish I could tell you it's getting easier, but it will only get harder for you, so-"

"Don't worry, I won't fail to meet your expectations father. I'm your son after all."

Both allies and enemies, eh?

With my abrupt cut in, Michael had now been left speechless before the day had even officially begun.

"Oh? You sound confident for someone who's lost so many times, now I can't help but look forward to your growth."

Extending one of his large arms towards me, I firmly clasped it and immediately after, it swiftly pulled me to my feet. Now peeking through the dreary sky was a litany of the sun's scattered rays and one of them just so happened to illuminate the peculiar symbol stretching across Michael's right shoulder.

It was a white construct that depicted two interlocking swords that formed an "X", the common denotation for the Brünnhilde crest. That marking was what gave Michael such an overwhelming physical advantage, and to top it off his class was "Sword Saint" a class that meant he was but one step shy from mastering the blade.

"It's already daybreak.....I suppose we can end things here for today then."

While I wasn't exactly opposed to the idea, there was one last thing I needed to see before bringing this lesson to a close.

"Father, can you show it to me one more time....that sword skill...."

Glancing back at me, he met my eyes filled with firm resolve. Looking at my current state made him heave a small sigh, but it soon transformed into a chuckle as his grin continued to grow wider.

"Sure."

Lifting the wooden sword off his shoulder, Michael switched to a crouched poster with the sword angling near the ground as if he were putting it back into some invisible scabbard. I could tell he was now controlling his breathing from the way his entire body seemed to contract all at once and in the next instant -

Michael swung the wooden blade so fast my eyes could hardly keep up with its projected path, and following in the wake of his swing came an immense gust of wind that forced the fog lingering around us into a violent swirl. For a moment, it seemed as if he was using wind magic to achieve this effect but that wasn't it-There was no lingering mana behind his swing, it was a phenomenon brought about by pure physical force and in no time, the violent swirl surrounding us popped like a hollow bubble, dispersing the built-up fog from the entire estate grounds in an instant.

The surge of the scattering winds rustled my hair in the sudden onslaught, and I could see blades of grass being liberated from their fixed positions as the conjured winds dispersed.

"Was that the one Arlen?" The defiant gleam now present in his eyes conveyed a clear hint of satisfaction.

"Yea, what was the name of that skill?"

"It's called Orion scythe. Although it may look fancy, it's not very effective if you're using it on a single person, and its output is hard to control too so it's mostly something I use to gain distance when I'm up against monsters."

"That was amazing, If I ever get a Brünnhilde crest those are the type of skills I'm hoping for."

"Heheh well my crest is at level four, so even if you do get this skill it won't be anywhere near that effective."

"My training will cover that right?"

"That depends on your efforts...."

Rustling my now disheveled hair he switched his focus to that of the manor a little ways in front of us.

"You're satisfied now right?" Still facing the mansion, he asked the question, with a hint of boldness now in his tone.

"Yes, I suppose it's time for me to go wash up now."

"Good, since I'm not going out today would you like to come and tour the city with me? I have a few errands to run."

"R-really? Of course, father just let me know when you're ready to leave!"

Replying in this overly zealous manner was honestly starting to get annoying, but since I'd already Apted for this zealous demeanor, it seems I was now stuck with it until this body began maturing.

"Hahaha....I'll do just that then.....now let's head back."

Now leading in front of me, I began following Michael as we made our way back towards the large manor. As the rays of sunlight began showering my battered body, a certain thought crossed my mind.

The meaning of my strength huh?...I was starting to wonder myself.....