Chapter Four - Training and Preparation

Only three days had passed since the troops moved out with the Inmos couple to the palace, but to Hywel each day was with overwhelming with grief. The reason?

“Is that all you have? Sir Hugh will be disappointed to see his so-called son having so much trouble with a weapon. A wooden blade at that!”

A gruff and deep voice jeered from the other side of the training ground behind the mansion. Gritting his teeth, panting hard nonetheless, Hywel stood up from where he had collapsed earlier from a mock battle with Valce, the owner of that jeering voice. The head guard was at least twice Hywel’s height and weight with broad shoulders and slender hips. The amount of muscle straining to be seen against his light top was so much it was coming to the point of calling it grotesque. His auburn hair was messy and short against the square-ish face and thick eyebrows, giving off a Yakuza-like impression. His dark brown eyes betrayed his emotions despite his words though; Hywel was sure they were crinkled with either surprise, amusement or both. It wasn’t all that hard for him to figure out why.

From his memories of the ‘previous’ life, he knew that sleep is an essential for a person to live. It was the phase where the body actively repairs and revises itself and relieves the person of fatigue. Having made a deal with that mysterious voice, he was now able to live without needing to sleep. While it was merely a speculation before, the current situation proved to Hywel that his body must be able to heal just as fast… no, even faster than when awake to maintain his body without sleep.

‘A freak side effect of altering his body's necessity,’ He phrased it in his mind.

Hywel took the battle stance Valce had shown him on the first day of training when he felt recovered enough; yes, the reason the big man was surprised was because unlike what he would’ve expected, the puny boy in front of him was able to get back up in no time after being knocked down. The boy could’ve feinted defeat for sure, but what Sir Hugh had said to him had been revolving in his mind; that no matter what choice he chose, both swordsmanship and lore will be crucial to him.

“Standing again, eh? I give you credit for the guts at least.” The head guard took the stance also as he spoke.

“I won’t hold back on my strength from now on, try not to die on me.”

With that, he swung his wooden sword down as if he wanted to cut Hywel in two halves. His reflexes went for a block before he could think, turning his own sword above his head while holding the hilt tight, the other hand’s palm on the flat of the blade. The impact sent pains down his arm, stunning the boy from any further actions until the pain subsided. That wasn’t the end though; Valce’s sword flowed onto the next attack already, swinging it from the side like a baseball bat, the flat of the blade knocking the air from his lungs as it hit the defenseless boy’s body with enormous force. The pain was so intense not a single noise came out of his mouth as he was flung straight into a tree. There was a sickening crunch, and pain greater than anything he has felt so far exploded all over his body. His mind went blank at the pain, his first breath after the hit turning into a scream.

Valce had a smile on his face, holding his weapon across his shoulder.

“That it? I was hoping you had something special, but ehh.” He stood there for a bit, looking down at the boy writhing in pain. With a sigh, he picked up Hywel’s mock blade that had flown out of his grip from the heavy impact and walked back towards the mansion.

“Someone move the kid master back to his room!”

Hywel came back to his senses as the sun began to disappear behind the horizon. He was treated by the mansion cleric and bandaged earlier and was now lying down in his bed. A sigh erupted from the boy after a while.

“So... unable to sleep also means unable to lose consciousness, huh...”

He grieved, putting a bandaged arm over his eyes. The pain through it all was unlike anything he had felt before, having almost every bone broken, being carried so roughly by the servants in panic, though due to the epitome of shock and pain he couldn’t feel much difference. He wasn’t able to think and be lucid until the cleric’s magic sorted out the worst of injuries, but every detail and sensation was engraved in his mind. From then on it was just him spacing out as he was bandaged and carried to the bed from the mental shock.

Voices streamed from the half-closed door, catching his attention. Hywel recognized the voice of the maid who was on her shift at the door, and the other voice was... Hildes. It was a hushed conversation for Hywel to make out exactly what was being said, but it sounded as if the maid was explaining while Hildes asked between. Hywel looked at the window, and realized he had recovered in time for the evening lecture. Being as diligent as ever, he didn’t think twice about resting.There was also the factor that he was now almost completely healed thanks to the inhuman speed at which his body was repairing now and going to sleep to fend off the spacing out wasn’t exactly something he was able to do.

“...-at’s a shame. I shall come back tomorr... oh?”

Hildes noticed the young master’s eyes peeking out from the other side of the door whilst talking. He had a look of surprise, then a gasp from the maid as she, too noticed Hywel drew both their attention. The maid blushed at the sudden stares then backed away. Hywel opened the door fully to let the scholar in.

“Master Hywel, I heard you were unwell. You certainly look like you should be in bed, yet you’re standing fine.”

That was when he realized how freaky others would find of his quick recovery, and held up a hand as he thought up a good excuse.

“...Standing is very hard for me. Please come in and I will lie down while you teach,”

He regretted the vague words he had said, but Hildes seemed satisfied enough. With a slight nod, he came in and supported the bandaged boy back to the bed.

“I hear Valce was the cause,”

Hildes spoke once they were settled, Hywel on the bed and Hildes on the chair.

“Yes... I wonder why Sir Hugh chose him as my teacher.”

“Valce, Sir Hugh’s most trusted man, is a careful man despite how he may seem. He wouldn’t commit such a dangerous act unless he was certain there were little to no risks.”

“...”

“Furthermore he nor Sir Hugh has anything to gain by the death of master Hywel. In fact, they need you to be the next successor of the Inmos Head to keep his reputation.”

“Do you talk with Sir Hugh often?”

“I’ve been with the Inmos family for over fifty years now; even for a scholar as myself a sharp intuition and the ability to decipher people’s hearts is crucial to stay in a place like this.”

Hywel nodded in acknowledgement, moving on to the next thing that was on his mind.

“About the other candidate...”

“Fabre Inmos, master Hywel’s cousin.”

Hildes replied almost straight away, catching on what the young master was trying to ask.

“Excellent swordsmanship, fairly decent summoner of a fire familiar. Its strength is not as strong as a mage but he truly shines in his skills to combine the familiar’s power with his sword in a duel. Fabre is also well-known for his strong sense of justice and loyalty to the House. Good looks, many followers, but often pitied for his fate.”

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“Fate…?”

“Becoming the head was the dream everyone of the House yearns yet cannot reach; Fabre was only one step away from reaching that dream. He had the power to become the next head, however his bloodline made it difficult.”

“...?”

“Lady Mabel, Sir Hugh’s sister, eloped with a traveler during her youth. She came back after a few years and with her the baby Fabre; it was only because the king had adored Lady Mabel like a sister that she was allowed to keep her name.”

Hywel vaguely recalled the bits of things he knew about nobles. ‘Keeping the family blood pure’ was a phrase which often associated with them.

Fabre’s parent was a random stranger. Following that thought, Hywel had no trouble imagining the possibility of Fabre being rejected from even being considered as the next head for such a meager reason as not being a ‘pureblood’. Then again his talents would have been something they wouldn’t want to lose. To make matters worse, they received that the only possible successor, Hywel, was a mess with the illness and so all this had happened...

Hildes leaned closer towards the bed he was laying down, breaking his train of thoughts. His voice was hushed, and the shadow over his face seemed almost intended to match the secretive and perhaps ominous tone the scholar was using to say the next few words.

“Take this as a warning, master Hywel; despite all of his good deeds, there’s something about him that is sinister. Perhaps it is his sense of justice and the justice done unto him I cannot say for sure, but after the countless years of watching and meeting people after people I am confident that he will see you as nothing but an obstacle to his glory. Do not trust him easily.”

“Back on your feet already? I must be losing my touch. I’ll make sure I don’t make the same mistake again.”

Valce growled with amusement first thing in the morning.

Hywel thought through his options the night after talking with Hildes. He had little reason to compete in the Inmos tradition, for within the husk that was Hywel was someone else completely. There was also the fact that he wasn’t exactly free on time. Hywel recalled the voice that became the trigger to all this events.

"Of course. There is a condition, however. You will start over, and I shall take, mm, a part of your life and your fate as payment. You can keep whatever life span and the fate that was left on the boy though, not like he’d need it any more.”

"Boy? what are you talking about...?"

And now he understood perfectly what the voice was talking about. Hywel didn’t know exactly how much of his life was taken, and how much was replenished. Worst case scenario, the boy’s remaining life could have been mere seconds. For all he knew, the amount of time he earned from escaping sleep to the amount of time he lost making the deal may have been negligible.

The biggest question now was ‘how’. 

‘How should I lengthen my life?’ Hywel asked himself. He was presented with three ways currently; to become a warrior, a mage or a worshiper. He had asked Hildes for guidance of becoming a mage to no success. The mansion Cleric hinted that Hywel must visit one of the main churches of Sola in order to follow the footsteps of a worshipper, and the closest one is in the capital of Glordia. That left with attempting to become a warrior. He was reluctant at first, but it seemed training with Valce was currently the best course of action. Sir Hugh was a warrior so his second-in-command Valce would definitely be able to teach him a thing or two about becoming a warrior… once Hywel clears his hellish training, that is. 

And so Hywel appeared before the head guard at the training ground the next day. He readied his wooden blade, to which the big man opposing him replied with a grunt. He rushed forward to the young master as he went for the same downward slash from yesterday. This time, he was ready; instead of blocking, he stepped to the side just in time to avoid his opponent’s blade’s path. Expecting a follow-up attack, he was tense, eyes darting to where the man’s arm was. As if to replay from last time, Valce went for a swing again, his wooden sword hitting thin air once more as the boy successfully dodged. There were no more follow up movements. The boy's body moved faster than he could think, his weapon lunging at the man’s muscular arm as a counter. The impact of blade on blade as Valce blocked sent a slight jolt of pain up Hywel’s arm, but it was nothing too serious. He doubled back at the failed attempt to hinder the guard’s arm.

There was a pause from both ends; Hywel was staring straight at the man’s eyes, panting, the blade clenched tightly in his hand, heart beating loudly in his ear. Valce was standing still with little evidence of exhaustion, a grin on his face.

The training ground resonated with clashes of wood as they continued; Valce always started off with a big blow and then a quick and deadly follow-up which Hywel could do nothing but avoid. Having said that he wasn’t able to avoid every blow; the follow-ups stung him hard, and whenever he had the chance to attack, his weapon would be blocked by the big man’s weapon. All in all, it was a fight resembling an egg trying to erode a stone wall.

The training lasted until sunset. Valce finally showed signs of exhaustion albeit barely; his posture wasn’t as impeccable as before, and sweat was visibly gathering on his body. Hywel, too was panting with exhaustion but a closer look would reveal that the bruises, cuts and other minor injuries were now a thing of a past. His body still had energy left, his mind as clear as it was at the start of the training.

By this point Valce was certain that there was something abnormal with Hywel. It was, however, misinterpreted by the head guard; the years he spent loyal to Sir Hugh was not one of simple awe, but of one who shared countless battles together. Valce knew of Sir Hugh’s abilities as The Spear and from this he started to believe this rapid healing was the young master’s dormant power as a warrior’s son waking up. He felt a certain sense of accomplishment welling up within himself; he was certain this was thanks to his training.

“...That will do for today.” Valce opened his mouth to announce the end of the training despite his body screaming to train the young master more. The head guard knew his limits; it was a given he would be able to keep going for at least another three rounds or so but he would be risking the chance of making mistakes due to the fatigue. If he did not portray as an infallible wall to the young master, he feared Hywel may imagine the head guard as a target whom he can eventually defeat. Time was precious as the Inmos ceremony was nearing; if Hywel took lightly of him and dampen his growth, that was the extent he would have when he would enter the ceremony.

Slowly, but steady was the key to nurturing a warrior to their fullest extent, Valce knew.