Darian wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths. The training grounds were nearly empty, save for a few lingering warriors finishing their own drills. The clang of steel against steel still echoed faintly in the air, but his session had long ended.
He clenched his fists, staring down at his calloused palms. He had pushed his body beyond its limits, enduring the grueling regimen laid out for him. His stamina had increased. His strikes carried more weight. His endurance in battle had improved significantly.
And yet…
He tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword, frustration gnawing at him.
Despite all his efforts, his technique remained largely unchanged. His movements felt clumsy, his footwork sluggish. Every time he faced off against a more experienced warrior, it became painfully obvious—his raw strength could only take him so far.
"What am I missing?"
He exhaled sharply and sheathed his blade, his troubled gaze fixated on the ground.
Unbeknownst to him, a pair of keen eyes had been watching for days.
Aldric leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, silently observing the young warrior's struggle. He had seen countless fighters train in these very grounds, men and women who sought power but lacked the will to truly grasp it.
Darian, however, was different.
His determination was unwavering. No matter how many times he stumbled, he pushed forward. No matter how many bruises he received, he stood back up.
Aldric had held his silence long enough.
With slow, deliberate steps, the seasoned warrior approached.
"You're troubled," Aldric's voice cut through the quiet air.
Darian looked up in surprise. The older man's piercing gaze was unreadable, but there was something in his expression that sent a shiver down Darian's spine—an intensity, an unspoken challenge.
"I've been watching you," Aldric continued, his tone firm but not unkind. "You've improved your stamina and strength, but you're relying too much on brute force. Strength alone won't win you battles."
Darian exhaled, nodding slowly. "I know… but no matter how much I practice, my technique isn't improving. It's frustrating."
Aldric studied him for a long moment before stepping forward, drawing his own blade.
"Then perhaps it's time for a different kind of training."
Darian's eyes widened. "You mean—"
"I will train you," Aldric said simply. "If you're willing."
For a moment, Darian was stunned. Aldric was one of the most respected warriors in the kingdom. The chance to learn under him was an opportunity few ever received.
The weight of the moment settled on him. His frustration was still there, but now, something new burned in his chest—determination, stronger than before.
Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
"I am ready."
Aldric smirked faintly, then raised his blade.
"Then rise, apprentice. Your true training begins now."
Now is the.....
beginning of true swordmanship