"Again!" Old Pierre barked, slamming his cane into the dirt.
The birds chirping in the trees briefly fell silent, startled by the old man's shouting.
Julian groaned, pushing himself up from the muddy ground. He was nineteen years old, with a lean but muscular build, messy brown hair, and hands covered in rough calluses.
He wiped a streak of sweat and dirt from his forehead, gripping his iron sword tightly.
"Grandpa," Julian complained, breathing heavily. "We have been swinging since the sun came up!"
"And if you are fighting a real battle, do you think the enemy will let you take a nap just because your arms are tired?" Old Pierre scolded.
He limped forward, tapping the edge of Julian's sword with his cane. "Keep your guard up, boy. A knight does not slouch."
Julian immediately straightened his back and raised the iron blade. Just hearing the word "knight" sent a thrill of energy through his tired muscles.
