Right after getting my ass handed to me in 2 moves, we got back to real training.

After the bore of warm up, horse stance, pushing rocks around, walking on the Plum Blossom Posts, before a warm up for the second part of the training, sword swings.

I dreaded it far more than the rest. After all, while the first part was already boring, albeit difficult, it had a semblance of movement involved. The swings, on the other hand, while taxing, as yet again just holding the stick was already hard, raised the boring levels to their paroxysm.

Finishing my 1000 swings with the stick took much longer than the rest of this routine combined, and by the end, holding my arms up was pretty much impossible.

We trailed back, defeated. No, I trailed back, defeated..

Romuald was skipping like a kid who’s just got offered candy.

Whether it was the muscular pain, the surprise at having to face Romuald daily, the anger of losing or a noxious combination of it all, I wasn’t quite sure, but my blood was boiling and my spirit murky.

Scheming about how I’d make him regret it.

Oh, you’ll see how petty I can be…

“Brat.”

you’ll pay..

“Brat?”

OH mark my words! You’ll pay..

Mark my wor—

“BRAT!”

“W-what?”

He looked at me as if wondering what I was thinking about before deciding to not give it any mind.

“While humbling you was extremely pleasing,” He said with a smug face. “I am still your teacher, so let me teach you.”

As he said so, he turned his back to the trail and started walking while watching me. Avoiding any roots and rocks in the path as if he knew it by heart, or... as if he could see it all.

“Why did you lose today?” he asked, still effortlessly walking backward.

“Because... I am weaker?” I said, still thinking that he was trying to gloat about his victory.

“Hahahaha, then you’ll keep losing your entire life, you stupid brat?”

What are you on about?

Despite the obviousness of what he was trying to get to, I was still too ruffled to even attempt to think.

Brandishing one of the evonite sticks, he swung against a tree.

SNAP, the metaphorical noise of my train of thought breaking, bringing me back to reality.

“Use your brain! WHY did you lose today?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, realizing that this was a genuine teaching moment.

“Did getting stronger make you forget? You are a magicless husk, a broken vessel, an ant in a world of giants, even considering frontally facing anyone is the epitome of stupidity!”

He breathed. “Soooooo... WHY did you lose today?”

I was at a loss. And pretty ticked off. Yes, I knew I had no magic. That’s why I was training until I felt like I was about to die every day. If it wasn’t for that, would I have been forced into such a humiliating position? My own little brother as a toddler had vastly more potential than me, and who knew how much he had grown now? I had lost my family name to some nameless brat; I didn’t even have a name to go by having to refer to myself as Helmet... AH yes, let’s talk about the helmet! My mind was getting darker; his callous words plunging a stick into a gash that had yet to heal.

“Uh wow.. still no answer?” He shook his head in disappointment.

“Ok, let me rephrase this. How could you have won? You got no magic, you are weaker, and you had no weapon. How could you have won?”

Oh.

I could have run away.

No, not that. Not only there was no actual way for me to run away from someone like that, but also my victory against the hardlet had given me confidence and thought me that running away was not an answer. If I truly wanted to become stronger and becoming the strongest, avoiding fighting was simply not an option.

So how the hell can I win next time?

“Humph.. looks like you are thinking about it, good.”

#

We were now at the underground base. While I wanted to sleep, there were more important things to do.

I had to pay back Romuald for the humiliation.

Or so I was planning.

“No.”

“But why?!”

“You think I don’t know what you are planning? No.”

“B-b-b-but!”

“Shut up, go reflect on how you can defeat me in a fight.”

“Y-you just know you’ll lose?”

These words caused him to unleash pressure I had never felt from him before, pressure that he hadn’t shown even during our earlier spar, and pressure that disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.

“Yes, you are right.”

“There’s nothing I can teach you about kress... so what makes you able to win at chess that you lack in real life?”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

At these words, I was left silent. While I wasn’t totally sure what exactly he was talking about. It was clear that he wasn’t refusing only for the sake of his ego.

Damn it... master wins again

“You’re surprisingly obtuse at times, but you are not stupid. If you can’t figure it out after what I just said, it might be better for you to just die.”

These words were like a slap to the face, yes right now there are things more important than a simple ego boost.

“No- I mean yes... I mean thank you, master”

“Cheh- sleep well, you brat. Tomorrow we stroll back to hell.”

##

I couldn’t sleep. I was rolling in my makeshift bed, thinking about what Romuald had told me. ‘What makes you able to win at chess that you lack in real life...’

Until now I had taken kress as a simple game, a pass time; but I couldn’t anymore.

What I liked about chess was the fact that it was a pure demonstration of strategy. Two players leading their armies, with the exact same pieces and pawns at their disposal. The victor being the one who dominated all till the end or who survived a hopeless situation. It’s a game where even someone like I, could beat anyone as long as I had the skills. And without tooting my own horns, I had the skills.

A game that starts with million of possibilities slowly progressing to where a single move makes the difference between loss and victory. And in my case, all the fun came from slowly forcing the opponent into a situation where they couldn’t do anything but this losing move.

Restricting movement...

How would I apply that to Romuald, though?

It wasn’t like real life was a fairly balanced game. After all, Romuald was much stronger than me. And it wasn’t like I could think of a strategy beforehand.

It wasn’t like I could think of a strategy beforehand...

How could I be so stupid? That’s it! Planning beforehand!

This doesn’t change much, though. Planning won’t help me much when I am facing someone with such a tremendous difference in power. It’s not like I can bring a catapult to a sword-fight...

“That’s it!”

“Uh-? Shut up. I am trying to sleep.”

“Sorry.”

Yes, that’s it. While planning was good, how much better would I fare if I could change the terrain, or the starting conditions, to my advantage? Removing the opponent’s bishops or rooks from the game before it even started, or moving my pawns three cases forward instead of one.

Yes, bending.. no breaking the rules.

As much as having a fair win was honorable, the important was still winning. Especially when winning meant the difference between life and death. So.

After resolving to play dirty, and bias the odds in my favor as much as possible, I strategized and strategized until I naturally fell asleep.

While I had some qualms about it, I wasn’t exactly in a situation where I had the leeway to be picky about my methods. How would that work? It wasn’t like I had any material to set traps before the match happened, and even if I had Romuald was with me the whole day, checking my form and nagging me about it, there was virtually no time to set up anything.

Poison?

No, no, no, I reflexively shook my head.

While perhaps poison was a weapon like any other, even I knew that one who used poison in this world was viewed as worse than scum. And call it misplaced pride, foolishness or naivety, but this was my baseline; I would never use poison. I had decided that much when I had learned of how nasty it could be.

Plus, even if I somehow found something to poison him with, I’d have lost all familiarity with him. It’d be surprising if he didn’t kill me on the spot after realizing what I had done.

With traps ruled out and poison out of the way; there was only one option, affecting the terrain.

But how? This thought stayed on my mind the whole night, I reflected, simulated before throwing away ideas I deemed worthless. Going about this process until I was too mentally drained to do anything and naturally fell asleep.

###

The very next day, I woke up emboldened to teach Romuald a lesson. For now, I had no actual idea. Other than starting the fight as close as possible to the forest of plum posts and try to mitigate his movements somehow that way. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Romuald’s speed was terrifying, but if I was to hide myself in the forest at first, his mobility would be reduced.

And thus that’s what I did.

I didn’t have a hard time justifying staying close to the posts.

Before the fight even started, I was jumping on the spot to warm up the spring in my legs. Not really to fight, but to bolt as soon as the signal to start would be given.

He threw the stick in the air in my direction, drawing a perfect parabola before stopping right in front of my feet. I was standing about 20 meters away from him, and he did so effortlessly, as if it required no more effort than breathing.

This simple act made my body tense up a bit. Since while I already knew with every fiber of my body that he was truly strong, seeing him toy with an object that I already found tough to hold was unnerving.

I brandished the evonite stick, intending to bluff him, feint a fighting stance before running to hide in my chosen terrain. Was it because I had subconsciously looked to where I was planning to go, or because he had seen through my fairly simple plan?

But he smiled. “So that’s what you came up with? Not terrible…”

“Are you ready?” He said with a calm voice, seeming happy.

“Yes,” I shouted, less for him and more to give myself courage.

“Good. Cause this gonna hurt…”

After these words, a heavy silence squashed the noise out, even the rustling leaves seemed to stop. I changed my stance from a sword stance to a full running one, since my plan had already been seen through.

I readied myself. Priming every muscle of my body to explode forward at the drop of a hat.

One second passed.

Two second passed.

Three second passed.

In this state of high concentration, everything seemed to slow down. It wasn’t quite like the flow state, much too nerve-racking to be anything like it; this was pure adrenaline.

But soon enough. “START!” Romuald roared.

Needed no more to dash towards my hiding place.

“Never show your back to the—“

As I was half expecting an attack to the back, especially considering how enticing a target it was, I ran and, after counting to 3, I jumped and rolled forward.

Swish

It wasn’t pretty, but I narrowly avoided his slash.

“Well, look at him go,” Romuald said, seeming pleasantly surprised.

There was no way I’d be a sitting duck this time. As soon as I touched the ground, I spun and looked his way. His face was distorted in a blood chilling smile.

They’re brothers, alright.

I shivered before refocusing on the fight as he dashed.

In one smooth motion, he cleared the distance and thrusted his weapon. I had seen something of the sort coming.

I jumped planning to reduce the damage as much as possible and use this speed to my advantage. While I could barely see him, I could see enough, and aligning my weapon to parry it was possible.

Impact.

Bam. Pheeeeeeeew. Crash.

Searing pain from a collision. “Argh!”

I had miscalculated.

While I had somehow blocked it, the trajectory of the thrust had led me crashing right into the post.

I heaved. Forcing myself to stay conscious.

It was painful. Painful. Painful.

But I had no time to spare. I primed myself and disappeared behind the post I had just hit.

Not safe enough.

I ran further in, going diagonally, as to prevent him from directly chasing me.

Once I had ventured far enough, I glued my aching back against one of the training post to prevent any attacks from behind and looked from side to side.

Anxious. Waiting for the next potentially lethal strike.

Any direct hit would be a game over. My arms were still quivering from the hit, and I was surprised my shoulders were still in their sockets. And while he was obviously holding back, it was also clear he wasn’t playing.

Still, there was no way out but to fight.

“FOUND YOU!” A voice fell from above.

Fuck!

I reflexively stabbed upward.

Be it to protect his rear hole, to avoid any damage to his progeniture or because he didn’t feel like squashing me with his weight, he course corrected, slamming his feet against the pole as he was falling and landed a few meters way in a handstand with the eyes of a wolf, releasing overpowering pressure.

I didn’t wait for him to chase, as I sidestepped and back stepped out of the way before going to another pillar.

What do I do? What do I do!

Subconsciously retreating.

I was pressed for time. I wanted to fight. To strike him at least once.

But this aura it was terrifying. Was this as far as I’d go? No matter how I cut, the only outcome was defeat.

No.

No.

NO.

NO!

No way!

No way, I’d let it end like that. As I regained my footing and braced myself, I could feel the emblem on my left arm react. It’s power surging with my fighting spirit.

“AAAAAAAAAAAH,” I yelled as if possessed!

Bam.

A swift but ordinary downward swing knocked me out cold.

I powerlessly plopped to the ground. The last thing I saw before nodding off was a Romuald crouching down, and looking at me with an expression equal part mocking and confused.

Fuck... this is embarrassing...