CHAPTER 21

282 AC

It has been exactly two years since I started focusing on my training and now I'm eight and a half years old now. It has been a tiring year, but it paid off. I have made minor advancements in arcane arts but major advancements in my training with weapon arts and learning. In spells, I didn't make much advancement. I still can't use a second-level spell, but I have made some advancements.

Now I have 45 mana, and I m more sensitive to mana. I can sense the mana sources around me too. Before, I could sense Godswood's mana, but I could only guess its source and not sense its core. Now I can sense the deep and old magic bound to the weirwood tree. I can't comprehend the depth of this magic yet, but I can sense some aspects of it. For example, it has earth, fire, water, and blood elements in it.

Blood is not exactly an element, but it takes the space of an element in this ritual. I can sense the life and resentment inside it. I think this is what a blood sacrifice feels like. An unwilling being was sacrificed for this ritual; a human and not any human, an enemy. That is all I can sense for now.

As for my familiars, they have started to become so big. Now Erebus is at least 20% bigger than any other raven, and Poe is a bit smaller than him. Because of the constant training, my soul space got bigger, too and I think I will be able to get a 3rd bound in a few weeks.

As for my martial training, I wanted to learn how to use other weapons so I could predict what my enemies could do with them, started training with spear and mace too. At first, it was really hard to adjust to fighting with a spear because it is the exact opposite of a sword fight. In a sword fight, you would want to close the distance, but with a spear, you have to keep the distance so you wouldn't be left with a stick rather than a spear.

In time I got used to it and started to see the advantage of a spear in a fight. Then I started using mace too. It was the hardest to use. Not because it is so technical or anything like that. It is hard because of the weapon's weight and is slow but deadly. As for my archery, I become really deadly with it. I still can't pull a longbow but can pull a short hunting bow easily. So I don t have the distance the grownups have.

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A longbowman can shoot an arrow around three times my best distance. I can shoot 100 meters ( 110 yards ), but I m not accurate at all. I become accurate in 80 meters ( 88 yards ), and in 60 meters ( 66 yards ), I m deadly. If I have to run and shoot, that distance becomes 40 meters ( 44 yards ). I m learning how to use many weapons, and I m going to learn many more, but I still like the sword because it is almost the perfect close weapon it s not unwieldy like a mace, and it is not cumbersome in tight spaces like a spear or short reached like a dagger. It is just perfect.

Because I have made a lot of advancement in my martial training, at last Rodrik accepted me as his squire, but I m different than other squires. I don't have to do squire chores but accompany him when he goes to missions. I put my hand on my waist, held my head high, and said to myself, " it is really hard to be this talented." I really love my skills. I got out of my room and went to the training grounds for the squires.

When I reach there I see a lot of squires is there and working on their form or sparring. I even see my old friends Hallis and Wyl there too. They look at me from a distance and follow me with their eyes, but they don't try to come near me because they know better not to test me. Now I m a squire. As long as it is under the pretext of a spar or training, I can beat the living daylight from them without getting punished. Thanks to our old pal Ned. The fact I just destroyed a 13-year-old just yesterday might have something to do with it too.

Today I m going to spar with a 15-year-old, Rodrik trying to take me down a peg. He thinks I have become too arrogant and conceited. Last few weeks, he only let me spar with boys that will definitely beat me. The boy I m going to fight today is called Wyland Flant. He is the big brother of Wyl Flant, and he is the one with bruised ego and balls. I don't really like how the big bro Flant looks at me from the sidelines.

It has been more than two years already. Why the hell are they still holding a grudge? It is not like little Wyl was permanently damaged; he already healed one year ago. We took our places in the middle of the sparring arena; people around us started to stop what they were doing and started watching the match. I took my form and waited for the attack.

He started circling around me, but he only made fake lunges and looked for holes in my defense. Either he saw me fight, or someone gave him a lot of info because he started going for my biggest weakness against older boys. My lack of strength compared to theirs.