He sighed deeply and let his gaze wander into the distance, as if searching for answers in the memories of the past. "To make it short and simple, I was one of the King''s guards. To be precise, I was their trainer."


    "Then how did you end up like this?" Aria couldn''t quite hide the hint of irritation in her voice.


    "I served in the guard for 15 years, as agreed. Afterward, I asked for a piece of land to settle down with Lena. After all, my best years were behind me. But the King ordered me to serve another 10 years. I refused."


    His face darkened as he continued. "Angrily, he handed my wife over to the House of Nightshade. That’s how I became their servant, their slave." The last sentence came out as an angry whisper.


    The memories burned in him like a furious fire. He hated the King for taking his freedom, and the desire to kill him gnawed at him like an unrelenting shadow. In his despair, he had begun to drown his pain in wine, which brought him temporary relief but did nothing to quell the anger inside.


    Aria couldn’t think of a comforting word. Her loneliness had never acquainted her with such things. As she thought about how she could help him, she realized the weight of his memories.


    "Master," she began firmly and sincerely, "when I’m strong enough, I’ll cut off his head with your sword technique."


    "Focus on your own goals!" he replied, but the gleam in his eyes revealed that her words had touched him.


    "My only goal is revenge. If another revenge is added, it doesn''t change much," her voice sounded resolute.


    Suddenly, the first raindrops began to patter on the ground. Aria felt the air become damp and cool.


    "If it rains heavily, we''ll still get wet despite the tarp. After a while, the moisture will flow into our camp in little streams," he observed, watching as the drops danced in small puddles on the ground.


    He then drew a simple work knife from his belt and tossed it to her. "Cut a branch and sharpen the end. The shape should resemble a blade. When you''re done, dig a trench around the tarp. Fifteen centimeters deep will be enough."


    "Why me?" she complained, holding the knife as if it were a symbol of her unfairness.


    "Because I''m the master," he replied with a hint of humor in his voice.


    "What are you doing while I work?" she asked, heading off to find a branch.


    "I''m tending to my wounds," he said, pretending to take a deep swig from the wine bottle.


    Displeased, she set to work.


    By early afternoon, Aria sat, dirty and completely drenched, under their makeshift shelter. The rain had relentlessly poured down on them, spreading a cold that seeped into her bones. Vrael had used the time to tend to the wound on his side.


    He pulled a small vial from his pouch and let a few drops of the transparent liquid fall onto the wound. The sharp pain at the touch made him flinch for a moment. Then he carefully wrapped the wound with a bandage.


    "What was that liquid?" Aria asked curiously, watching him.


    "Since you left the city, you''ve really become chatty," he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice.


    She shrugged and smiled faintly. "I have to learn something, after all."


    "I think I need more wine. Or maybe I should try something stronger," Vrael muttered, looking up at the sky as if searching for an answer.


    Aria shot him a reproachful glance. "Drinking is unhealthy. It harms muscle growth, the absorption of carbohydrates, and..."


    "Yes, yes, I get it. For heaven''s sake. The liquid destroys bacteria. You don''t even seem to know anything about basic alchemy," he interrupted.


    "That''s true. I have no idea. Can you teach me?" Aria looked at him hopefully, the rain continuing its monotonous drumming on the tarp above them.


    "Any other requests?" Vrael shook his head as though trying to lighten the air around him.


    "Let me think... You could..."


    "I get it, I’m already doing it. But not today."


    "Why not?" Her voice sounded a little disappointed as she stared at him with questioning eyes.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Don''t feel like it. Let an old man have some peace."


    She shot him a reproachful glance, momentarily forgetting the seriousness of the situation.


    "Just a joke," he muttered, but a slight smile tugged at his lips. "We’re going to sleep now. When dusk falls, we’ll move. We need to cover distance quickly."


    "Then why did I have to do this annoying work?" She snorted in annoyance and pulled her knees to her chest.


    "So I could have some peace. Just kidding. We need a good rest. We’ve burned a lot of energy. You need to think long-term on a long journey. Remember that!" His voice had an earnest undertone, reinforcing the importance of his words.


    "Understood, Master." Aria nodded.


    "Can''t you be a little more relaxed?"


    "No, Master." Her answer was firm, but there was a trace of conviction in her tone. She believed that a master deserved respect—even if he was a drunkard.


    "Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?" he sighed resignedly, letting his gaze fall to the dirty ground. "I think I''ve sighed more today than I have in my entire life. Now I really feel old."


    After their conversation, Aria had laid down.


    He cast a gentle glance at the sleeping Aria. Her body trembled slightly. He shook his head. "And she wanted to survive out here," he had to grin. "Acts like she''s an adult, but still a child."


    Then he pulled a sheep’s pelt from his bag and covered her with it. The soft fabric enveloped her, providing comfort and warmth. Vrael himself settled for a thick, lined coat that reached down to his knees, shielding him from the cold.


    His gaze fell to the ground. They had hastily placed some pine branches underneath. While they pricked a bit, they offered insulation. A good balance, he thought.


    "Aria, wake up!" He shook her gently, his voice calm but firm.


    "What is it?" she grumbled sleepily, her eyes opening reluctantly and squinting against the light.


    "The weather has improved. We''re moving on now. Get up and pack your things."


    Reluctantly, she sat up, and the two quickly broke down their camp. With each step they took into the forest, the terrain became more difficult. The underbrush thickened, and the ground became uneven. The further they went, the harder it was to make progress.


    Suddenly, Vrael gave Aria a shove. She tripped over a root and landed roughly on the ground, a surprised expression on her face.


    "What was that for?" she complained, rubbing her sore arm.


    "I slipped." He shrugged, but there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.


    "Yeah, right, that was on purpose!" Her face was a mix of irritation and anger.


    "Well, serves you right. Here''s a tip: if you don''t stop moving, you won''t fall." His laughter echoed through the forest. He was starting to enjoy teasing the far too serious girl.


    Aria shook her head, but a smile couldn''t quite be suppressed. "That''s not funny."


    "It''s important to pay attention to your surroundings. You need to learn to automatically notice potential obstacles. A steady stance will help you in many situations." His serious tone left no room for argument.


    He extended his hand to her. Still grumbling, she reached for it, but she grabbed nothing. Without the usual support, she collapsed again.


    "Always expect the unexpected," Vrael remarked, grinning.


    She wasn''t going to take that lying down. She grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at him. But to her surprise, she suddenly found herself standing in front of her master, and the dirt hit her square in the face.


    "Well, well. Didn''t see that coming," he said, laughing.


    By the end of the day, her face was completely covered in dirt, just like her clothes. Over and over, she was tripped, a stick was shoved between her legs. Vrael seemed to be testing both time and her patience with every little trick.


    Her whole body burned from the exertion, and each breath felt like it was only tiring her further. The shadowy forest around her was still. Only the occasional rustling of leaves in the gentle wind reminding her that she was not alone. Aria closed her eyes for a moment to ease the pressure on her mind, but the constant struggle to stay focused offered no rest.


    "Enough with the little annoyances for today. Let''s talk about the proper use of a broadsword," Vrael said.


    With a small exclamation of excitement, she straightened up. "Finally!"


    But just as she began to gather her thoughts, she felt a sudden jolt. With an abrupt "oomph," she landed hard on the ground.


    "Never let your guard down!" Vrael leaned over her, giving her a teacher''s stare.


    "Damn," she cursed, trying to shake herself off. The ground was uneven, and the mud clung to her clothes.


    "Back to the sword. If you look at the shape of a broadsword, you''ll notice that the blade is widest near the guard. Why do you think that is?"


    "I don''t know. Doesn''t that reduce the power of the strike?" Her brow furrowed as she thought about the question. The forest around them seeming to close in, as if the trees were eavesdropping on their conversation.


    "Somewhat, but it allows for more precise control of the sword. Now think about this: Which part of the sword do you think is most stressed during a fight?"


    "The part near the guard?" Aria''s voice sounded uncertain. Her gaze drifted to the curved sword in his hand, which gleamed faintly in the dim light filtering through the canopy.


    "Exactly. That means our broadsword is particularly well-suited for two things: First, parrying other weapons. Second, striking hard against enemy armor. Armor or a shield won''t bother us."


    Vrael let his gaze drift across the shadowy underbrush. "With a rapier, for example, it''s completely different. There are two types of broadswords: one-handed and two-handed. I prefer the two-handed. Can you guess why?"


    "You said it''s about breaking armor. With two hands, you can strike harder." Her voice sounded more confident now as she straightened up and met his eyes directly.


    ?Correct. Well thought out.“ Satisfied, he gave her a gentle shove, and though she wobbled, she managed to stay on her feet. A broad smile spread across her face.


    But Vrael was faster. With a swift motion, he slipped a foot between her legs.


    “Don’t get too cocky!” he reminded her, as she stumbled again and fell to the ground.


    “You could have just let me have the win,” she grumbled.


    “Nope. What about thrusting?” Vrael casually sat on a fallen tree trunk, his expression serious, as though he were testing her.


    “I think it''s quick and effective.” Aria took a deep breath, trying to sort her thoughts while the damp earth beneath her still smelled of the morning rain.


    “Why?”


    “Because the center of gravity is close to the hand.” Her gaze shifted to the longsword, gleaming in the light of the setting sun. The thought of the strength she would soon possess filled her with anticipation.


    “Correct. However, when thrusting, you must aim for weak points. A thrust won’t penetrate armor.” He admonished her. “The only way through would be with the right gift or blessing.”