Ethan’s hands gripped the smooth shaft of the spear, his palms slightly damp with sweat. Across from him, Himmel stood relaxed, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corners of his mouth. The sunlight glinted off the polished wood of the spear in Ethan’s hands, its sharp tip catching the light as if daring him to take the first move. A stillness fell over the training field, broken only by the faint murmurs of the recruits watching from the sidelines.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Himmel said, spinning his own spear with an effortless flourish before settling into a low, balanced stance.

Ethan’s muscles tensed, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t exactly planned to spar with the instructor on his first day with a weapon, but the opportunity had presented itself, and he wasn’t about to back down now. Taking a deep breath, he lunged forward, aiming a thrust at Himmel’s midsection. The attack was straightforward, unrefined—and easily sidestepped.

Himmel’s movements were smooth, almost lazy, as he shifted his weight and let Ethan’s spear pass harmlessly to the side. “Not bad for a first try,” he remarked, his voice calm. “But you’re too stiff. Loosen up, or you’ll tire yourself out before you even land a hit.”

Ethan gritted his teeth and quickly readjusted, pulling the spear back and spinning it to regain his balance. He circled Himmel, watching for an opening, but the instructor stood firm, his posture unyielding. Deciding to test his luck, Ethan went for a sweeping attack aimed at Himmel’s legs. The spear whistled through the air, but Himmel leaped effortlessly over it, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.

“Better,” Himmel said, giving Ethan a nod. “You’re starting to get a feel for the range. But watch your footing.”

As if to emphasize his point, Himmel darted forward, his spear a blur as it tapped against Ethan’s ribs with precision. The strike wasn’t hard, but it was enough to send Ethan stumbling back a few steps. He barely managed to stay upright, his grip tightening on his weapon.

From the sidelines, Herbie’s voice rang out, equal parts encouragement and teasing. “Come on, Ethan! Don’t let him dance circles around you!”

“Focus, Ethan,” Yin Xue added, her tone measured. “He’s testing you, not trying to beat you.”

“Easier said than done,” Ethan muttered under his breath, resetting his stance. This time, he tried to heed Himmel’s advice, relaxing his grip and shifting his weight more evenly. He stepped forward with a feint, drawing a slight movement from Himmel before quickly pivoting and aiming a strike at his shoulder. The maneuver was quicker, more precise, and for a brief moment, Ethan thought he might actually connect.

But Himmel’s spear was already there, deflecting the attack with a sharp clang. The force of the parry sent a jolt up Ethan’s arms, but he managed to recover, spinning his weapon to prepare for another strike.

“Getting better,” Himmel said, his tone approving. “You’ve got decent instincts, but you’re overthinking. Let your body guide you.”

“Let my body guide me?” Ethan thought, exhaling sharply as he lunged again. This time, he aimed a rapid flurry of jabs at Himmel, each strike aimed at a different part of his opponent’s body. Himmel’s spear moved like a living thing, blocking and deflecting each attack with a precision that left Ethan both frustrated and awed.

“He’s so fast,” Ethan thought, his arms beginning to burn from the exertion. But amidst the chaos of the exchange, he began to notice something. Each time Himmel parried, his movements created a slight opening—brief, almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless. Seizing the moment, Ethan feinted high and then swept low, aiming for Himmel’s legs once more.

This time, Himmel didn’t dodge. Instead, he brought his spear down in a sharp arc, meeting Ethan’s weapon with a resounding crack. The force of the collision reverberated through Ethan’s arms, but he held firm, pushing back with all his strength.

“Good,” Himmel said, his voice tinged with genuine approval. “Now you’re starting to fight.”

Ethan’s confidence surged, and he pressed the attack, driving Himmel back a few steps. He could feel the weight of the spear in his hands, the way it moved through the air, the subtle balance of power and precision. For a moment, he felt like he was in control.

And then Himmel’s spear hooked around his, twisting it out of his grip with a deft motion. The weapon flew from Ethan’s hands, spinning end over end before landing with a thud just inches from Herbie’s feet. Herbie yelped and jumped back, nearly tripping over himself in the process.

The field fell silent for a heartbeat before Himmel’s laughter broke the tension. “Not bad, Ethan,” he said, lowering his spear and stepping back. “You’ve got potential. But remember, a weapon is an extension of your body. If you lose it, you lose the fight.”

Ethan stood there, panting and drenched in sweat, his hands hanging at his sides. Despite the loss, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of satisfaction. For the first time, he had glimpsed what it meant to wield a weapon—and he was determined to get better.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

The aftermath of Ethan’s sparring match left a ripple of energy among the recruits. Himmel’s sharp eyes swept over the group, and without missing a beat, he clapped his hands. “Alright, everyone. Let’s keep this momentum going.” He gestured towards the racks of weapons. “Those of you with melee weapons, step forward. It’s your turn to spar.”

The recruits shifted uneasily, some glancing nervously at their weapons while others straightened with newfound determination. Yara was the first to step forward, her sword gleaming in the sunlight as she strode confidently into the sparring circle. Himmel raised an eyebrow at her but nodded approvingly.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, his voice steady but challenging.

Yara’s movements were fluid as she engaged with Himmel, her strikes precise and deliberate. While Himmel still held the upper hand, his parries and counters carrying an almost playful ease, Yara’s composure and skill were evident. Her mysterious aura remained intact, even as she pressed forward with calculated aggression. The other recruits watched in silence, their expressions a mix of awe and curiosity.

When the match ended, Yara stepped back, breathing lightly, and gave Himmel a small, enigmatic smile. “Not bad for a warm-up,” she said, her tone light but confident.

Himmel chuckled. “You’ve got a good head for combat. Keep refining those movements.”

One by one, the recruits with melee weapons took their turn. Iris wielded her twin daggers with a dancer’s grace, her strikes quick and unpredictable. Yin Xue, ever composed, opted for a slender longsword, her style elegant and efficient. Herbie’s choice of a hefty mace drew some amused glances, but his sheer determination and surprising strength earned him a nod of approval from Himmel.

Zane’s sparring session with a borrowed short sword was brief but telling; his movements were precise, though his discomfort with the weapon was evident. Himmel made a mental note to revisit Zane’s choice later.

Finally, the melee training came to an end, and Himmel motioned for the recruits with ranged weapons to step forward. Yara, Zane, and Ethan exchanged glances before moving to the front.

“Alright,” Himmel said, crossing his arms. “Ranged combat requires a different mindset. Precision, patience, and control are key. You won’t be swinging wildly here. Let’s see how you handle your weapons.”

Yara was up first. She approached the designated shooting area, her pistol in hand. The weapon was sleek and compact, and Yara’s confidence with it was evident. She took a steadying breath, aimed at the target—a wooden dummy painted with a bright red bullseye—and fired. The crack of the shot echoed across the field, and the recruits craned their necks to see the result.

The bullet struck just shy of the center. Not perfect, but close. Yara adjusted her stance, narrowed her eyes, and fired again. This time, her shot landed dead center. She stepped back, a satisfied smile on her face, and Himmel gave her an approving nod.

“Good control,” he said. “Your aim’s solid, but don’t get complacent. In a real fight, you’ll need to account for movement, distance, and distractions.”

Next was Zane. He picked up a crossbow, his movements deliberate as he loaded a bolt and took aim. His expression was calm, almost calculating, as he released the string. The bolt sailed through the air and embedded itself in the target, slightly off-center. Zane frowned but quickly adjusted, firing again and landing closer to the bullseye.

“Not bad,” Himmel said, walking over to inspect the target. “Your focus is good, but you’re overthinking it. Trust your instincts more.”

Finally, it was Ethan’s turn. He stepped forward, his bow in hand, and stared at the target. Memories of archery videos he had watched on Earth flickered in his mind—how the archer’s hands moved, how they drew the string, how they released. Taking a deep breath, he nocked an arrow and pulled back the string. The bow creaked under the tension, and Ethan’s arms trembled slightly as he struggled to maintain stability.

“Relax your grip,” Himmel said, his voice cutting through the haze of Ethan’s thoughts. “You’re not wrestling the bow. Let it flow with you.”

Ethan adjusted his grip, his fingers relaxing slightly. He exhaled slowly, letting the tension in his shoulders ease. Then, with a sharp inhale, he released the string. The arrow flew, cutting through the air before embedding itself in the target. It wasn’t a bullseye—in fact, it was far from the center—but it hit the target, and that was enough to draw murmurs of approval from the other recruits.

“For a first shot, that’s pretty good,” Himmel said, his tone encouraging. He picked up another bow and nocked an arrow with practiced ease. “Watch closely.”

Himmel drew the bowstring back in one fluid motion, his posture perfect. He released, and the arrow struck the bullseye dead center. “It’s all about alignment,” he said, turning back to Ethan. “Your body, the bow, the arrow—everything needs to work together. Try again.”

Ethan nodded and nocked another arrow. This time, he focused on what Himmel had said, aligning himself with the target. He drew the string back, his movements more fluid, and released. The arrow flew straighter this time, landing closer to the center. A small surge of pride welled up in him, and he turned to Himmel, who gave him an approving nod.

“You’re getting there,” Himmel said. “Keep practicing, and you’ll find your rhythm.”

The training session continued, with Himmel offering pointers and corrections as the recruits practiced. Ethan grew more comfortable with the bow, his shots gradually improving. By the end, he was hitting the target consistently, though he still had a long way to go before he could match Himmel’s precision.

As the recruits regrouped, Himmel turned to Zane. “You did well with the crossbow, but you’ll need a melee weapon, too. Long-range combat is useful, but it won’t always be an option.”

Zane hesitated for a moment before selecting a dagger from the weapon rack. He weighed it in his hand, testing the balance, and gave a small nod of approval.

“Good choice,” Himmel said. “A dagger’s versatile. It’ll serve you well in close quarters.”

With the training session complete, Himmel addressed the group. “Most of you have chosen the right weapon for now. Keep practicing, and remember that these are just tools. Your skill and mindset are what make them effective. Dismissed.”

The recruits let out a collective sigh of relief, their exhaustion evident.