Chapter 5: for honour

Valerius Cassian stood amidst the still morning air, sweat dripping down his furrowed brow. His fists, bruised and raw, trembled as Lucien Perceval Saint-Aurel scrutinized him. The older man, a former underground fighter who once commanded fear and respect, leaned against a wooden post, his arms crossed and his expression grim.

"Your body," Lucien began, his tone as sharp as the morning chill, "isn't built for brute force or raw endurance. But maybe—maybe—there's a way we can sharpen you into a weapon. Five months, Valeri. That's all I've got to make you less fragile."

Valeri nodded, though his confidence wavered as Lucien's intense stare bore into him. "I'll do whatever it takes," Valeri said, his voice low but firm.

Lucien smirked. "Oh, you will. I'll make sure of that."

---

Month 1: Boxing – The Iron Discipline

The first morning began with Lucien tossing Valeri a pair of worn-out boxing gloves. "You see these gloves?" Lucien asked, smirking. "They're older than you are. If they survived this long, so can you."

Valeri inspected the gloves. "These smell like… feet. Did you store them in a gym bag full of regret?"

Lucien ignored the quip and clapped his hands. "Focus. Boxing is about rhythm. Control the fight with your fists. Timing and distance—that's all boxing is."

The early sessions were humiliating. Lucien barked orders as Valeri struggled to maintain his stance. His punches were weak, his footwork was clumsy, and his coordination was abysmal.

"Jab, jab, cross!" Lucien shouted.

Valeri swung awkwardly, missing the punching bag entirely. The momentum carried him forward, causing him to stumble.

Lucien groaned. "You're fighting like a drunk flamingo. What was that?"

"I was… improvising?" Valeri offered sheepishly.

"Improvising?" Lucien repeated, his tone incredulous. "You're not Picasso. Stick to the basics!"

The training became more rigorous with each passing day. Lucien would wake Valeri at the crack of dawn for roadwork. Valeri hated every second of it. "Is it even legal to torture someone like this?" he complained, dragging his feet.

"Shut up and run!" Lucien barked, running backward to taunt him. "Or do you want me to get the cattle prod?"

Valeri's spirits lifted slightly during sparring sessions, though they were just as brutal. He faced off against Lucien, whose punches were merciless but precise.

"Protect your ribs!" Lucien yelled, landing a clean body shot that knocked the wind out of Valeri.

Valeri collapsed, gasping for air. "I think you just rearranged my organs," he wheezed.

"Good," Lucien said. "Now they'll be symmetrical."

Despite the punishing regimen, Valeri started to grasp the fundamentals. His jabs became sharper, his footwork more stable. Yet, his lack of instinct was a glaring flaw. He overthought every move, telegraphing his punches.

One afternoon, Lucien pulled him aside. "Boxing demands instinct. You don't have it. Not yet, anyway. But don't give up. You're stubborn, and I can work with that."

---

Month 2: Muay Thai – The Art of Eight Limbs

By the second month, Lucien introduced Muay Thai. "If your fists are useless, we'll bring your elbows, knees, and shins into the mix," he explained, striking a heavy bag with a brutal roundhouse kick. The sound echoed like a thunderclap. "Muay Thai isn't about finesse. It's about breaking your opponent down. Strike hard and fast. Repeat until they crumble."

Valeri was hesitant. "Breaking them down? That sounds… excessive."

Lucien grinned. "Excessive wins fights."

The first lesson was a disaster. Valeri's kicks lacked power and accuracy. His shins screamed in pain every time they struck the bag. Lucien, ever the sadist, encouraged him with sarcastic remarks.

"That kick was adorable," Lucien said after Valeri's weak attempt at a roundhouse. "It reminded me of my grandma swatting flies. Rest her soul."

"I'm trying!" Valeri protested, rubbing his bruised shin.

"Try harder," Lucien shot back.

The clinch drills were even worse. Lucien demonstrated how to dominate an opponent with knees and leverage, then invited Valeri to try.

Valeri approached cautiously, attempting to grapple. In one swift motion, Lucien swept his legs out from under him, slamming him to the mat.

"You call that a clinch?" Lucien scoffed. "My niece could take you down, and she's five!"

Valeri groaned. "Does she also practice Muay Thai?"

"No," Lucien deadpanned. "She just knows how to kick shins."

As grueling as the training was, Valeri began to adapt. He landed his first clean knee strike during a sparring session, catching Lucien by surprise.

"Not bad," Lucien admitted grudgingly. "But don't let it go to your head. You're still terrible."

---

Month 3: Aikido – The Gentle Flow

By the third month, Lucien's patience wore thin. "You're a disaster at Muay Thai," he declared. "Let's try something… gentler. Aikido."

Valeri raised an eyebrow. "Gentler? Is this your way of telling me I'm hopeless?"

Lucien ignored the jab and handed him a gi. "Aikido is about redirection. It's the art of using your opponent's strength against them. Perfect for someone as weak as you."

Valeri found Aikido surprisingly intriguing. The focus on balance and harmony appealed to him. He studied the techniques obsessively, practicing throws and joint locks late into the night.

One evening, Lucien watched as Valeri attempted a wrist lock. "Don't hesitate," he advised. "If you're going to break someone's arm, commit to it."

Valeri hesitated. "I don't want to actually hurt anyone."

Lucien sighed. "Then you'd better pray your opponents feel the same way."

Despite the banter, Valeri showed promise. He managed to redirect Lucien's strikes during sparring sessions—not perfectly, but enough to catch his mentor's attention.

"You're not bad at this," Lucien admitted, though his tone remained gruff. "But you need to stop second-guessing yourself. Confidence, Valeri. Confidence."

---

Month 4: Wrestling – The Grounded Beast

By the fourth month, Lucien decided to test Valeri's grappling skills. "Wrestling," he announced, dragging Valeri to a padded mat. "If you can't outfight them, out-grapple them."

The mat became Valeri's new nightmare. His smaller frame left him vulnerable to Lucien's relentless takedowns and holds.

"Pin me, Valeri!" Lucien barked during one drill.

Valeri tried, only to be flipped onto his back in seconds. "Is this wrestling or amateur chiropractic?" he groaned.

"It's wrestling," Lucien replied, grinning. "You're just terrible at it."

Despite his struggles, Valeri persisted. He learned to anticipate Lucien's movements, though escaping holds remained a challenge.

"You're too soft," Lucien growled. "Wrestling is about dominance. You need to be more aggressive."

Valeri sighed. "I'll try to be less... polite."

Lucien smirked. "Good luck with that."

---

Month 5: Capoeira – The Fluid Dance

In a last-ditch effort, Lucien introduced Capoeira. "It's unorthodox," he explained, demonstrating the rhythmic, dance-like movements. "Maybe unpredictability is your strength."

Valeri approached Capoeira with an open mind but struggled with the flowing acrobatics. His rhythm faltered, and his kicks lacked precision.

One day, as Valeri stumbled through a sequence, Lucien noticed something unusual. Valeri's movements, though clumsy, resembled the fluid patterns of Aikido.

"Stop," Lucien commanded. "Do that again."

Valeri blinked. "Do what?"

Lucien stepped closer. "The way you moved just now. Do it again."

Valeri hesitated, then shifted his stance. Without realizing it, he naturally adopted the posture of an Aikido practitioner.

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "You've been fighting me wrong this whole time. Your body's already chosen its path. Aikido… that's your style."

Valeri looked up, confused. "But I thought—"

Lucien cut him off with a rare smile. "I was too blind to see it. Let's go back. This time, we do it right."