I woke up this morning with the thought that today was going to be difficult.
It was another day of sword training, just like the previous one, and after it would be another, and another. In this rhythm, a week of training passed. I could feel myself getting physically stronger. My swings became more precise, and I was also practicing thrusts with the sword. I started to understand the Great Duke a little more—he truly acted sternly, but he cared about the family.
Today was supposed to be a regular training session, but instead, I was given weights—just one kilogram on each limb and one on my torso. In total, five kilograms. Not too heavy, and once again, it started with the running warm-up. Damn, I hate running, I thought, but I didn't stop. Strength training, running, meditation followed. This time, again, I felt something strange—some golden lines appeared and disappeared before I could even notice them. What a pity, I thought.
"You meditated for two hours," I heard the Great Duke's voice. I was so focused that I realized I hadn't even noticed the passage of time.
"In three hours, I expect you back here. Even though we lost an hour, you won't need to practice swings today," he added.
"What will we do then?" I asked, surprised.
"Sparring. No aura, obviously no sword style yet, since you don't have it. Pure swordsmanship. Even if you are my son, do not expect mercy," the Great Duke said, his tone impassive.
I nodded. I was both scared and excited. Scared of the pain and the upcoming strikes, but excited, because these blows would help me quickly master basic sword combat, which would become the foundation for learning the family sword style, and perhaps others.
After lunch and a short rest, I arrived at the training grounds and saw the Great Duke holding two identical wooden swords. He threw one to me, and I caught it.
"I will adjust my strength and speed to you. Attack," the Great Duke commanded.
I approached cautiously, looking for an opening, and attempted a left-sided thrust while holding the sword in my right hand. My attack was instantly parried. A wave of vibrations ran through my wrist, but I didn't get distracted and immediately tried a downward strike. The Great Duke blocked it. A thrust to jab at me was also parried. No matter what I tried, it seemed futile. I felt frustrated but understood it was part of the learning process.
While I hesitated, the Great Duke struck my left arm with his wooden sword. I noticed it at the last moment but couldn't dodge, block, or parry in time. I tried to counterattack, but almost missed.
"Not bad," came a rare praise from the Great Duke. "If you can't prevent the attack, at least try to counter it."
I was frustrated by my failure and thought about what I could do. Just attacking wouldn't be enough. Another left-sided thrust—parried again.
"You're repeating yourself," the Great Duke said mockingly. Overhead, right-side, a thrust, again left—every strike blocked. I was extremely irritated.
Determined to land a hit, I prepared another strike. As I attempted a left-sided thrust while he attacked from the right, my sword made contact first, hitting his ribs painfully. I continued the motion, and though he tried to dodge, it was too late. The strike grazed his arm.
I smiled. Pain hit me immediately, and consciousness slipped away.