"What's wrong Fred? You look exhausted, and it's only the first week."

Frederick Greenwich turned to face Fable, who looked at him with a mix of concern and bewilderment. It was still rather surreal to him that he had made a friend here at the Academy. Then again, maybe that was normal and he was just overthinking it.

"It's nothing, just..." he sighed, "The past week has been anything but smooth for me."

As it turned out, redoing all the entrance tests was no cakewalk, despite already passing them once before. On top of the written tests being revised, the combat test felt even harder than when he first attempted it. Although he passed, thank the Twin Goddesses, his admission was delayed even further because of the sheer number of student candidates left to assess. As a result, he joined classes almost a week late, and had to cram through it somehow.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter now," said Frederick as he stretched his arms, "At least I can finally join combat training on time."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Fable reassured, his arms in his pockets, "You were doing pretty good in our practice duels."

Frederick made a wry smile, "Not sure if hitting a sheathed sword counts as 'pretty good'..." he then noticed something, "Speaking of which, where is your Railcannon Blade? And your shield? Did you leave them at the General's apartment?"

Fable grimaced, "Well... after the whole 'Belltower Incident', Al insisted that I don't carry my armor around in campus."

"You were pretty adamant about keeping it, though. And besides, the belltower was scheduled for demolition, anyway. What made you change your mind?"

"He said he'd write to my moms about the belltower."

"Oh."

As he two boys talked, they finally arrived at the combat training grounds, a large circular arena with dummies for casting, and a flat-grass ring for close quarters. As they entered, Fred noticed the staff replacing a collection of what used to be magic training dummies with newer ones. He shuddered to think about the intensity of the second and third year students.

"Oh, look. It's the 'fake' Greenwich."

"Wow, he actually passed? He definitely bribed the instructor."

Fred was appalled that the other students didn't even have the decency to whisper. He tried his best to pretend not to hear it, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"You sure are a hot topic here," whispered Fable, "Why do they keep bad-mouthing you like that?"

Frederick sighed, "I challenged my brother to a duel... and lost. And he made sure to make a public display out of it..."

"Alright, that's enough gossip! Class in now in session."

The students all fell silent as they watched General Alsen Flamehart enter the ring with a wooden sword.

"Al? You're training us today?" asked Fable, who was as surprised as any other student in the arena, though perhaps not for the same reasons.

"I'm filling in for the instructor. Apparently, he got his leg broken at the combat test accident."

Frederick felt a sudden ache in his gut. Is he talking about my instructor? He thought.

"Anyway..." Alsen continued, "That fact that you all passed the combat tests means you at least have basic skills in combat. So no beating around the bush..." he pointed to the stands of wooden weapons, "Get yourself a weapon and do some warm-up exercises. No more than five minutes. Then, each of you will be having a practice duel with me."

The students were flabbergasted. Were they really to going to fight General Flamehart himself? The man whose combat prowess helped end the civil war? How were they going to fend against such a man, even for practice?

Seeing their faces, Alsen sighed, "Relax, I'm just trying to measure your skills. How else am I going to know what you need to learn?" He scratched his head, "Regardless, who should I duel first?"

"Ooh! Me! Me! Me me me me!"

To the students' surprise, Fable waved his hand with unexpected enthusiasm.

Alsen narrowed his eyes for a moment, before pointing to another student, "I'll start with you."

Fable's face was aghast, "Oh, come on!"

For a brief moment, Fable could swear that he saw Alsen smirking.

He did that on purpose!

Regardless, he had no choice but to wait his turn. However, instead of sulking over it, he made sure to observe the other students' fighting styles.

"Never let your pride take over, kiddo. Sometimes the things you learn can help you when least expect it."

The first student wielded a dagger and was also given permission to use wind magic to boost his speed. Alsen observed carefully as the girl tried to get a hit in, blocking every blow with his wooden sword. It seemed that, at some point, she had already forgotten the point of the duel.

She failed, of course.

"You're fast. You also have good eyes. But you need to work on your form. Find a partner to practice with after this. Next!"

After that a was a boy with with a longsword. Then a greatsword, then a staff and so on. Fable tried his best to study them, but no matter how much he tried, their fighting styles didn't stand out to him in any way.

Fortunately, the boy finally got to have his turn before he began to lose focus.

"You sure kept me waiting," he retorted.

"Not sure what you're talking about," Alsen responded, seemingly oblivious.

I know you're smirking in there!

Frederick anxiously watched as Fable entered the grass ring. Last time he saw him fight, he had managed to knock out a tricerabull, but he also wanted to see how he fared in an actual duel, even if this was practice.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Oh, and before I forget...", Alsen suddenly spoke up, "I'm giving you a handicap: no enhancement spells."

"Fine."

The students, including Frederick, could not hide their shock. Even with their strongest enhancement spells, they could barely stagger him. Was this really going to be a fair fight, assuming it a was fight to begin with?

"Let's do this."

Fable smugly smiled as he lunged towards Alsen at a frighteningly inhuman speed, before clashing his own sword against his opponent's, with an impact so great that the students would've wondered why the wooden swords hadn't broken already.

But that was only the beginning. Only increasing in speed, Fable rushed at Alsen from every possible angle he could find with equally strong blows, only for the general to block them with his own sword. The shoulder, then the back, then the shin, then the shoulder again...

It was then that Fred saw it... that he saw Alsen being pushed back a step.

He... He's actually staggering him!

"Geez... On top of her technique, you've got her intensity, too!" Alsen grunted.

"You're making it sound suggestive!" Fable bantered, as though he wasn't at his limit yet.

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

Although they couldn't even fully follow their movements, the students were now fully invested in the duel, for they were as anxious as Frederick to see where it was going.

Then... Fable stopped moving... he now stood at one edge of the ring, the general on the other.

Silence filled the arena... what should've been seconds felt like minutes.

Fable shifted his body into a new stance, as though to prepare for an all-out attack.

With a start, the boy dashed forward, aiming for the general's chest, as the general prepared to take the hit...

However, before their weapons could collide, Fable's wooden sword began to glow dangerously blue, and the boy could only say one word as he realized it too late.

"Ah..."

The sword exploded violently, sending the boy flying out of the ring and crashing into the weapon stands.

"Fable!" Both Alsen and Frederick yelled in unison as they rushed to check on him.

"You all right?" Alsen inquired as he pulled the boy back onto his feet.

Fable groaned, "Well, I guess we found what I need to improve on."

"W-what do you mean?" asked a confused Frederick.

Alsen sighed, relieved that he wasn't seriously injured beyond some bruises, "He's too used to his Railcannon Blade. He habitually poured too much mana into that sword and ended up blowing it up."

"I've been using it for two years, after all."

Alsen looked at the now destroyed weapons stands, "You know... you're gonna have to pay for the damage to the weapons stand."

"WHAT?" Fable yelled in panic.

The General smirked, "I'm kidding. They're just pieces of wood."

Fable grunted, "That's the second time today!"

"Well, jokes aside, you are pretty banged up. Go to the infirmary and get some rest before your next class."

Fable grunted, "I don't need it. I heal pretty fast. Besides, I can use healing-"

The boy stopped mid-sentence with a pained expression, surprising them both.

"Never mind, I'll just go to the infirmary."

As the boy began to walk towards the exit in a seemingly bad mood, Frederick wondered what went wrong, when suddenly he stopped and turned towards the general.

"Are the nurses cute?", he asked, as though his earlier brooding was but an illusion.

Alsen facepalmed in resignation, "Just go so I can finish my class and have some lunch, please."

"Okay."

Fable left the arena, leaving the rest of the students in utter confusion and disbelief.

"Did he do that on purpose?" Alsen scratched his head as he sighed, "Whatever. I guess you're last, Greenwich."

For a moment, Frederick couldn't register what the General had said. Then he realized he still hadn't had his practice duel with him.

What? How am I supposed to duel with him after seeing that?

Frederick trembled. Even if this was a practice duel, the show from earlier had left even less confident than he already was. On top of that, he noticed that the students who snapped back to their senses had already lost interest and were looking for partners to duel with. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

Alsen looked at the boy and realized that he probably should've dueled with him before Fable. He made a mental note to remember the skillsets of each student for next time.

"Greenwich..." He raised his free hand, "I need you to take some breaths and calm yourself. Just take your time. I want you at your most composed."

Hearing the General, Frederick did as instructed, taking one long breath after another, until his heart stopped heavily thumping against his chest and returned to a calmer beat.

"That's it, kid... you're doing better already. Remember, we're trying to see where you need to improve, so don't worry about failing."

Frederick took one more breath, before assuming a new stance, ready to fight.

"Yes, sir."

"Alright..." Alsen shifted into a defensive stance, "Now come at me!"

The boy charged into the ring, aiming for the General's sword, then managed to land a solid hit. However, Frederick could feel that something was off, and this wasn't the first time he felt this way. And it seemed the General noticed it, too.

I still can't balance my sword...

Was it the length of his arms that didn't synergize with his weapon? Or was the weight of the sword putting him off balance? For whatever reason, he couldn't swing his sword properly, which ended up lessening the impact.

I can't back down now!

The boy took another swing at the general, this time from below, but it was weaker than he would've liked. Then a swing to the left, but he missed.

Damn it! It's just like the combat test! What am I doing wrong?

"Don't brute force it," Alsen advised as Frederick as he tried and another attack. He stopped for a moment to give it a thought...

Okay... Try a different approach...

Changing into a new stance as best he could, Frederick stood holding his sword firm, before dashing at the general with a powerful thrust that, for a glimmer of a moment, caught Alsen by surprise.

However, the next thing the boy knew, he was on the ground, the sword out of his hand.

Did I... lose?

Well, it wasn't even a real fight, so did that even count as a loss?

As Frederick sat up, he noticed that all the students around him were already practicing with each other, and hadn't even bothered to take a look at his duel.

"You okay?"

Alsen kneeled down to get a better look at him. Frederick took a look at his right hand.

"Yeah... I'm all right... I think."

"Hey, that was pretty good. Not everyone can switch tactics on impulse like that," the General smiled, then switched back to his serious demeanor, "Now... can you tell me what you learned from that fight?"

Hearing this question, Frederick knew the General meant well. But it didn't make it hurt any less.

Even after all that training with Philip...

He knew. He knew what was wrong... He didn't want to admit it.

I'm just trying to imitate him...

"Greenwich?"

After a long and concerning pause of deliberation, Frederick softly answered with his head down...

"I'm not built for a sword."