Dangerous Work

Kirigan's POV

With the newfound space between us, I recalled the techniques he had taught me, relying on my newfound knowledge. 

I used evasive maneuvers, dodging his strikes and countering with well-timed punches and kicks. It was a different kind of fight, one that required agility and adaptability.

The battle went on, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the air. I could feel bruises forming, the sting of each blow a true reveal to the intensity of our training session. 

But I fought with a determination fueled by the desire to prove myself to the general.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the man stepped back, a satisfied smile on his face. "You have done well, young warrior," he said, his voice filled with pride. "You have shown great progress today. Remember, fighting is not just about brute strength. It is about strategy, adaptability, and the will to never give up."

I nodded, my chest heaving with exhaustion but my spirit soaring with a sense of accomplishment. "Thank you, General," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "I can use the new skill to a great degree. How did you learn this anyway?"

"When you have been in the warzone as much as I have, trust me kid, you'll pick up a thing or two."

The general clapped me on the shoulder, a gesture of elderly support and respect. "You have the potential to become a great warrior," he said. "But remember, the path to greatness is paved with challenges and sacrifices. Train hard, stay focused, and never lose sight of your purpose."

With those words, the man turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the training hall, a renewed sense of purpose burning within me. 

"We'll train tomorrow. Don't be late," he said before exiting the building.

I picked up a weapon and decided to practice what he had taught me.

With a weave and a dodge, I moved about the training ground, stabbing at the air until someone entered the hall.

I halted and looked up to see Katarina walking in with the walking stick making a racket about the hall.

"Hey," I said as she smiled at me. "What are you doing?"

"I'm here to see how your training is going."

I noticed how she was walking like she was truly blind which was a bit hilarious to me.

"You can stop doing that. There's no one here besides me."

She eased a little and walked without the cane hitting the ground.

"Oh thank goodness," she sighed. "I was already tired of using that cane. Either way, what are you doing?"

"Practicing," I said, waving the sword around. "You did tell me to work on my skills."

I swung my sword with precision, the blade slicing through the air with a satisfying whoosh. The training hall was filled with the echoes of steel meeting nothing, the whooshing sound reverberating off the stone walls. It was here, in this sacred hall, that I honed my skills, pushing myself to the limits in pursuit of perfection.

As I continued my solitary practice, the woman, her gaze fixed upon me with curiosity and admiration made me decide to do something risky with my practice. Her presence intrigued me, and I decided to seize the opportunity to showcase my abilities.

With a smile, I executed a series of intricate moves, the sword dancing in my hands as I spun and twirled with grace. The woman watched, her eyes widening with each display of skill. I could sense her awe, her fascination with the artistry of my movements.

Finally, I came to a stop, my chest heaving with exertion. The woman approached, a smile playing on her lips.

"That was truly impressive," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "I have never seen anyone wield a sword with such finesse. I mean, I've seen with a gun before but not a sword."

"A what?" I asked, not knowing what a gun was.

"Oh, it's nothing important," she chuckled. "But you're really good."

I nodded, acknowledging her praise with a modest smile. "Years of training and discipline," I replied. "It is a craft that I have dedicated my life to mastering. Besides, I just learned this move a few minutes ago."

She tilted her head, her eyes shining with curiosity. "And who, may I ask, is your teacher? I have never witnessed such skill before. Was it the general?"

I hesitated for a moment.

"Yeah," I confessed, my voice filled with reverence. "He is a master of the sword, a warrior who has led countless battles and emerged victorious. I've not been to the amount of wars he has been in but maybe someday I can do that."

The woman's eyes widened further, "War? Shouldn't you try to avoid it?"

I nodded, my chest swelling with exhaustion. "Yes, I should but I can't do anything if the neighbors want to fight me."

"You're in no condition for war, prince kirigan," she chuckled. "You need help. This is what I am here for. To help you. 

"I'm not all that helpless you know," I said waving the sword around while I moved around like a warrior.

She clasped her hands together, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. "Would it be too much to ask for a demonstration? To witness firsthand the teachings of the General?"

I considered her request, weighing the risks of revealing my techniques. But there was something about her that made me trust her, that made me believe she genuinely appreciated the art of combat.

"Very well," I said, stepping back and assuming a stance. "Prepare yourself."

The woman's eyes lit up with anticipation as I lunged forward, my sword slashing through the air with precision. I executed a series of rapid strikes, each one calculated and deadly. She watched in awe, her eyes following the path of my blade with an intensity that mirrored my own.

It was going great until a sharp pain in my chest made me drop the sword and fall to the ground.