18 Chapter 18

As the day carried on like any other, it was soon time for my training session with Gustav. His training regimen was both physically and mentally demanding, often leaving me feeling like I was at death's door. Upon arriving at the training ground, I noticed Gustav preparing the wooden swords.

"Master Lucas, are you prepared for today's session?" Gustav asked handing me the wooden sword

"Ready as ever," I replied, determined to push myself to the limit once again. All at once, a wave of pressure seemed to envelop the entire training ground, causing me to instinctively raise my wooden sword in defense. As I jumped backward to avoid an incoming attack, my senses were overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

As I steadied myself and regained my senses, I quickly realized that Gustav had increased the intensity of our training session. He charged towards me, his wooden sword clashing against mine with a loud thud.

"Come on, Lucas. You can do better than that," Gustav said with a smirk.

I gritted my teeth and lunged forward, putting all of my strength into my attack. Gustav swiftly dodged and countered with a swift kick to my side. I stumbled, but quickly regained my balance and resumed the fight.

My training with Gustav was unlike any other. His expertise in combat and strategic thinking pushed me to my limits, and his constant encouragement and tough-love mentality helped me improve each day. As we continued to clash swords, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the skills and knowledge I had acquired in my past life as an assassin.

Using my previous training and instincts, I began to anticipate Gustav's moves and launch my own counterattacks. We continued our fierce battle, sweat pouring down our foreheads and grunts of exertion escaping our lips.

"Good, Lucas. You're improving," Gustav said with a nod of approval.

As we continued to spar, Gustav suddenly shifted his approach, focusing less on offense and more on defense. He began to speak as we circled each other, our wooden swords clashing and echoing throughout the training ground.

"You know, Lucas, a sword is more than just a tool for combat. It's a symbol of honor and discipline," Gustav explained, his eyes never leaving mine.

I grunted in response, barely able to catch my breath as I launched another attack. Gustav easily parried and countered, his movements fluid and precise.

"Each strike, each movement, must be done with intention and purpose. Your sword should be an extension of your arm, a part of your body," Gustav continued, his voice calm and measured.

Despite his words of wisdom, I refused to let up. I continued to press my attack, determined to land a blow on my skilled opponent. However, Gustav's defense was too strong, and I found myself getting more and more frustrated with each passing second.

Finally, Gustav saw an opening and quickly disarmed me, knocking my wooden sword out of my hand. He stepped back and gestured for me to catch my breath.

"You fight well, Master Lucas, but you lack patience and discipline. Remember, a swordsman knows when to strike and when to hold back," Gustav said.

I felt a pang of disappointment as I picked up my wooden sword and stepped back into position. Gustav was right, I had been too focused on aggression and had neglected the importance of control and discipline.

We continued to spar, but this time I took Gustav's words to heart. I focused on my movements and techniques, being intentional with each strike and parry. Slowly but surely, I began to improve, landing more blows and defending more effectively.

But in the end, it was Gustav who emerged victorious, disarming me once again with a swift and decisive move.

Despite my defeat, Gustav's face was beaming with pride.

"You've come a long way, Master Lucas. Your progress has been remarkable," Gustav said with a genuine smile."It seems our training session has come to an end for today, Master Lucas. Your knight appears to be looking for you, so I'll take my leave," Gustav said, acknowledging the end of our sparring session.

After finishing my training, I met with Andrew who was waiting for me outside the grounds. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and took a sip of water before turning to him with a serious expression.

"What's the news?" I asked, with a tinge of disappointment in my tone. I had received word that some of the journalists I had rejected my 'gifts' had started to investigate the deaths of the three families. Despite successfully recruiting half of the journalists in our area, I was finding it difficult to convince the head of the business to sell a portion of his company to me.

"Don't worry about the journalists," Andrew assured me. "I've sent Malachai to deal with them. But, on a more positive note, Lady Calliope Moonlight has agreed to meet with you."

"That's fantastic!" I exclaimed, my mood lifting considerably. Heading to my room I was happy the night has arrived.

—----------------------------

On a cold night, two journalists were interviewing a former worker of Mr. Godric, questioning him about his involvement in the suspicious deaths of three families. As they persisted with their questions, the worker, Mr. Usher, grew increasingly agitated and denied any involvement.

"Mr. Usher, are you sure you don't know anything?" one of the journalists asked, pressing the issue.

"I've already told you a million times, I don't know anything. Now, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Mr. Usher quickly escorted them out, his mind racing with the idea of one Lucas knights overhearing their conversation.

"God dammit, another one that doesn't want to speak. Maybe we should just let this rest, Joseph," the younger journalist said, turning to the older one.

"We can't, Johnny. You know their deaths are suspicious," Joseph replied firmly, determined to get to the bottom of the case.

Johnny and Joseph sat in a small café, discussing their latest investigation into the suspicious deaths of the three families. They had already confirmed that the families had died in a fire, but they couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to the story.

"I still can't believe that the business was sold to the Counts son," Johnny said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Do you think his dad had something to do with it?"

"It's possible," Joseph replied, furrowing his brow. "But we need more evidence before we can jump to any conclusions."

"I just feel like there's something we're missing," Johnny said, running his hand through his hair. "We've interviewed so many people, but nobody seems to know anything."

"That's because they're scared or been bought," Joseph said, leaning forward. "We need to find someone who's willing to talk, someone who's not afraid."

"But how do we do that?" Johnny asked, frustration evident in his voice.

"We keep digging," Joseph said firmly. "We can't give up until we get to the truth."

As they were discussing their investigation, Johnny and Joseph suddenly felt a sharp blow to the back of their heads, causing them to slump forward in their seats. Malachai, who had been lurking in the shadows, emerged from behind them with a wicked grin on his face. Malachai quickly took their unconscious body to a more secluded place.

"Looks like I found some rats in my territory," he sneered, gripping his knife tightly.

Johnny and Joseph groaned, trying to shake off the dizziness and confusion that had set in. They looked up to see Malachai standing over them, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous hunger.

"What do you want?" Joseph managed to gasp, struggling to stand up.

Malachai laughed, a cold and chilling sound. "I want you both dead," he said, lunging forward with his knife.

Johnny and Joseph fought back as best they could, but Malachai's dark magic gave him an edge that was almost impossible to counter. He moved quickly and silently, striking from the shadows with deadly precision.

Within moments, both Johnny and Joseph lay motionless on the ground, their blood staining the floor. Malachai stood over them, panting with excitement and satisfaction.

"Another job well done," he said to himself, wiping his knife clean