[Bonus]To Hold A Sword. (Pt. 3)

'Ugh...who in god's name knew there were so many ways to bow. That woman is nuts...'

Lucian tears a piece of meat off the chicken leg in his hand. Gulping it down voraciously, it's the first meal he's had in nearly half a day.

'If Baldwin didn't save me, I bet she would've had me bowing until I dropped dead.'

A mental image of Isla appears in his mind. All her beauty and elegance fall away as her sadistic nature has now become apparent.

Lucian gulps down a massive spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Suddenly his attention snaps to a soldier boasting loudly on the other side of the main hall.

"They still have us training with dummies! It's such a waste! I cut two in half last night!" A taller soldier with a pretty boy look boasts.

"You're so strong, Randall! That must be why they promoted you to Corporal so fast!" Another soldier exclaims, patting the boastful Randall on the back.

'Cut two in half? Jesus, this guy must be a monster.'

"We should head back over to the training area, guys. You know how the Sergeant gets about people being late." A timid soldier interjects.

"Damn! You're right. Let's go." Randall replies as he scarfs down the rest of his plate. The other soldiers following suit.

The soldiers begin to exit the hall. While a plan hatches in Lucian's mind.

'Perfect.'

Lucian scarfs down the rest of his plate and picks his drumstick clean. Jumping to his feet, he follows the soldiers out.

Half an hour later...

Lucian sits atop the outer wall. The Guardsman patrolling it steer clear of him with the fright of punishment, seeing the Adalwolfen Crest pinned to his cuirass.

His legs dangle from the wall as he watches the soldiers training.

They strike the practice dummies over and over.

Minor cuts appear in the wood of the dummies, but nothing more. It's a pitiful display compared to what the Marquis accomplished last night.

Lucian's gaze directs to the soldier he came to watch. Randall.

'For all his boasting, he could've actually lived up to it. But what the hell is this? He swings like a child with a sword. Even I'm better than this, and I'm actually a child!'

Lucian holds his head in his hands.

"This was such a waste of time. I should've just done my own training." he groans to himself.

"You won't learn anything watching these fools. They're a bunch of farm boys fresh from the countryside." Alaric whispers into his ear.

"Huh!" Lucian squeals recoiling back in shock.

His sudden movement throws him off balance.

Lucian's grip slips on the wall, and he begins to fall down the side of the wall.

Just then, Alaric's hand darts forward, grabbing him by his shirt. He then hoists Lucian back up to the wall and onto his feet.

"You're quick to scare." Alaric remarks.

"Th-thank you." Lucian says as his life just flashed before his eyes.

Lucian takes a deep breath and calms his nerves. While Alaric retrieves his cane from the ground.

"I knew you were stronger than you looked. Why do you hid-"

Alaric raises his finger to his own lips.

"Quiet now, boy. You're delving into something you don't want to delve into." He warns.

"But-" Lucian interjects.

"A warrior positions themselves to always be at an advantage. I believe that will be of some use to you, boy. How I look to others is one of my greatest advantages." Alaric responds wisely.

Lucian takes in his words.

'Oh, so he plays the role of a senile old man to trick his enemies. I don't see any enemies here though?'

'Wait. I can use this to my advantage. He's the strongest person I've ever seen, and he just said he's a warrior. I think I just found my solution.'

Lucian's lips form a devious smile.

"What's in it for me to keep your secret old man." Lucian challenges.

Alaric's expression remains neutral. His eyes tell a different story as an immense killing intent boils to their surface.

Then it abruptly disappears, and a smile begins to form.

"You're quite smart for your age. You've instantly used my weakness to your advantage.

Interesting." Alaric remarks, his eyes burning with curiosity.

"Let's see. What do you want in return for keeping my secret?"

Lucian looks up to Alaric with defiance.

"Train me in Swordsmanship."

Alaric's smile grows.

"I will do it under one added condition."

'Yes!' Lucian mentally throws his fist into the air victoriously.

"Which is?" Lucian asks.

"I will only train you for 1 year. After that, it will be my own choice if I wish to continue."

"Deal. Can we start today? I have a deadline to meet." Lucian asks.

Alaric nods.

"Follow me."

They head towards the staircase leading down the wall.

On the way, Alaric confiscates a guard's sword while showing him the Wolf Crest pinned to his robe.

The shocked Guardsman just continues on his patrol, holding a downcast look.

'My mother just bought me that...' The Guardsman thinks.

Several minutes later...

The pair walks around the keep, entering a small winter garden.

'I never knew this existed. I wonder why Baldwin never told me about this.'

Stone pathways neatly segregate the various flowers of the garden. Ebullient colors fill Lucian's field of vision as he looks upon the foreign species of flowers.

'Beautiful'

They continue to walk down the stone pathway, turning right and entering the center of the garden. The snow-covered stones form a large circle giving a view of the entire garden.

'This would be a great place to have breakfast if I ever went on a vacation.'

"Sst!"

Alaric unsheathes the sword, handing it to Lucian.

"I want you to show me how you strike."

Lucian takes a deep breath, slashing diagonally as he exhales.

"Stop!" Alaric shouts.

Lucian freezes mid-slash.

"Don't move a muscle."

Alaric begins to look over Lucian's form touching his body to see which muscles he's activating.

"Alright."

Lucian relaxes himself, his muscles spasming from the irregular strain.

Alaric begins nodding to himself as Lucian looks at him with impatience.

"I'd say you're well above average for strength at your age. However, you're sorely lacking in comparison to those farm boys. Furthermore, when you strike, you only use your upper body. Your legs, core, back all remain untapped."

"When a warrior strikes his sword, it should be as if the sword is an extension of his body. Every fiber of your being should be poured into each and every strike."

"It feels like I'm using everything though. I'm even pivoting my legs to add power." Lucian responds with confusion.

"You may be moving your legs, but it's not adding anything. You're forcing the movement."

"When you strike, it should be like breathing. Everything should come into play naturally."

Alaric holds his hand up to ask for the sword. Lucian hands it to him promptly.

Alaric positions himself with the sword in one hand low behind him.

"This is called the "Dance of Northern Wind," pay close attention to every movement."

Lucian actives his perception to its maximum. The veins in his eye bulge in response.

Alaric takes a deep breath of the cold winter air and begins.

His sword slashes forward with enough speed to lift the snow from the ground. Though his body moves as if he is in slow motion. His sword arcs through the air with a subtle beauty as he slashes in every direction. His feet follow his blade, marching to the beat of his strikes. He drifts through the circle with grace, each of his movements following the rhythm of an imaginary song. Then finally, he twists his body in a sweeping slash encompassing his surroundings. A gust of snow flies into the air shadowing him from view.

Lucian is in awe of what the old man just performed.

'His body moved like he was having a casual dance, but every slash was enough to cut a man in half. It was graceful but with savage killing intent.'

"This is the first arc of the dance. I believe this should be enough for you to substantially improve. Definitely enough to help you with the task my dear nephew has given you."

"I will end today's training here. There is no need for you to use a blade to practice. Just memorize the steps in your mind and follow the rhythm."

'Shit. He's the same as Harald, expecting me to figure everything out on my own.'

'At least he gave me more to work with..'

Alaric promptly departs. Leaving the sword sheathed in the middle of the circle.

'Damn. Now I have to bring this back to that guard. Wait, I don't even remember what he looked like.'

'Oh well, guess I have a new sword.'