Walking back through the forest after the long training session, Sarey and Allan reached the backyard. There, Sarey spotted already awaiting Zigmund, who was dozing off by the side of the tree. He opened his eye in a quick motion of sudden movement and steps.
For the past weeks, his old senses became much more active, while the effects of getting into the fights returned as well. His body knew what it used to know and wanted, but it was still a long way away from how it used to be in the past. In fact, he didn't even want to consider going to the past... he was retired, so what choice was in any of that? It was a long time ago when he actually fought someone for real. That meant killing, injuring, and fighting someone over the dead and their lives.
“Who do we have here?” He asked as he got up to his feet.
“Same as usual, father. Do you want to beat me up that badly? What a father figure!” Sarey added sarcastically while letting Allan away from the bushes.
She told him some small details of the training Allan was doing after his persuasion. Small things that she said included the general views that wouldn't be that shocking. Of course, she didn't disclose much, as Zigmund wasn't that curious about the details.
He only wanted to know where his daughter was going for half a day at a time. It was the least polite to say where they were going, so out of politeness, Sarey told him where. If he will spy on them, she had already accepted this possibility. Not like they would get to know if that will ever be the case.
In truth, it will never be the case, since they were not that far or anywhere dangerous. So, Zigmund didn't hold them back at all and cared little about what they do. Even if he would complain about their training or whatnot, they wouldn't listen to him at all. Such are the teenagers, who had their own minds already.
“Beatings can wait, don't they? Eat something first, you and Allan. I prepared some meal for both of you, so get some rest first before starting.”
“Thank you,” Allan said as Sarey simply walked with him past her father without glancing at him.
Walking inside the cottage, the still-hot lunch pleasantly surprised them. Zigmund processed two pieces of Ring-horned lamb's legs into rich-looking soup with meat that was collapsing from the bones. The big pot was boiling for half a day already, and Sarey couldn't help but think that her Father did this after they left.
There are veggies, like carrots, onions, garlic, celery, parsnips, and a few more. This in itself was a meal for days, while something hot after the colder mountains was more than a good idea.
Allan could care less about the names or such descriptions of the animals, even when Sarey's explained it to him a couple of times. Words alone wouldn't satisfy his hunger, as the smell was stronger than some explanations.
In fact, Sarey had smaller and smaller counts of words each time when they ate. There was only so much that she could help him with, and Allan clearly cared little about the meal itself. He ate and acknowledged excellent food, which meant he was the best kind of customer that one could ask for. Although one that would not pay for any of this, but that was secondary. Not like the payments were important... It all came from nature anyway.
In about 15 minutes, the table was clean of one lamb leg and many refills of the bowls. Allan ate smaller this time, as he wasn't that hungry. He still had the spar to do, and overeating wasn't great. It was not his habit, but he ate a lot more after experiencing this training and 36's tyranny.
One could get used to this, but he wasn't getting fatter, so he paid in no need, as he couldn't see himself. Although, he pretty much noticed the many changes in himself. He still feels his body the same way as before. The distinct muscles and strength hidden within him were more noticeable than ever the further he trained.
Sarey, after eating her fill, left to get her sparring gear and the pair of swords. All three of them followed the unspoken rules of the spars and use real swords. Although, very carefully and without no intentions of going too hard. Though was easier said than done.
Sarey at least acknowledged the need for that and didn't complain.
There was no issue with it since her eyes were plenty of a reason for nice careful moves. It was mostly Allan who always went towards the abrupt and dangerous moves while figuring out his fighting. Zigmund had a lot of times when he didn't hold at all to push him away, which caused many injuries. Today would be no different and she knew it, and so did Allan, who long accepted it.
The pain wasn't that bad. It meant life and reason to continue. He wasn't a masochist, as the adrenaline and his blood continued no matter what. That was his reason, and a small payment to continue on his path. A little bit of pain wouldn't hurt him.
Walking outside of the home, Sarey noticed Allan, who was already resting on the ground. It wasn't his time, as she would be the first to go against Zigmund. She stepped forward in her nice-looking robe and pulled her swords from each scabbard.
Zigmund wore the same outfit as always. A rather worn-down uniform at this point, but still in one piece. The only difference was the types of blades, which had changed multiple times already. He wasn't willing to use his fine sword, which was improved by Allan's sharpening. So, Zigmund used the other blades in his possession.
Of course, this went unnoticed by the youngsters, as Zigmund was unwilling to acknowledge his lack of good swords. The last sword was unusable after 2 spars, so that spoke volumes of Allan's work. The staff was known to be quite deadly against the swords, while Sarey's weapons are hard as well. Zigmund used what he had and he could also buy a few swords from the market.
It was enough for the time being but not easy against Sarey who didn't care about any problems that her father was facing.
With everything done, the spar started.
Sarey jumped forward into the wide-open Zigmund, who retreated one single step backward and then a step aside. The two slashes missed him all so close, but it was calculated. While shifting his knee and feet, he pulled his sword as well.
Ding!
Sarey, much to her forceful try, parried the clash with her right sword and went for another strike with another. Since Zigmund held back with this strike, she held no responsibility for not pulling her strikes.
Zigmund chuckled as he was met with a quick strike to his chest. Not like this mattered, as Sarey also knew there won't be any injuries.
Again, with a sidestep, the short-sword left no source of damage to Zigmund. It was not long enough, or fast enough, to reach him and he took full advantage of it.
Sarey thought little of this little play, as injuring her father would be impossible for her, no matter what. It was not in his conscience to let this happen to his daughter. There were usually dozens of such situations on each spar as Sarey sparred against her father with no stoppage.
In all these days of spars, which were few, but they still counted, she was barely injured by him at all. It left her glad, but with unwilling bitterness in her heart. She wanted to be treated like Allan, but she knew the true nature of her father more than she was aware of.
Connecting strikes and deflections sounded rapidly in the following minutes. There was an occasional retreat and re-engagement of the strikes, but Sarey kept going forward in a try to get used to her weapons. This went on until she decided on the right occasion and struck his leg with hers.
Zigmund was hit and staggered in a position that he couldn't defend on his right side. Before he had an opportunity to stabilize himself, the swift strike was soon around his face.
“Whohoho... calm down, tiger.” He gestured his palm to stop, but the blade already stopped before his skin.
“What!? Is that my win?” Sarey, unbothered by her plot, said in fake displeasure.
“You go beyond your means... I won't be polite about this if you are not polite about this too.” Sarey stared at him with her piercing gaze.
“Of course, it is your win. I won't complain about this, since you struck my leg all of a sudden.” He had no choice but to agree while sounding sincere as much as he could. In truth, this was no choice, as he did make a mistake on his part, but that could always be stopped. Those situations were, in any sense of words, his faults, which he was aware of, but this was a spar, which didn't matter.
“Hmph! Maybe you should try harder next time.” Sarey mocked him a bit, which changed nothing.
“Oh? Do you want the second round, you cheeky kid?” Zigmund said with amusement, smiling ear to ear.
“No,” Sarey replied in a good mood while moving back. Sitting right beside Allan, who was listening to the spar. He gained a small thing or two from each spar he listened to, while he paid it more attention because he wasn't part of it. It wasn't something that he could directly understand, but it was a good practice to "see" what their moves were.
In particular, the movement of Zigmund was something he already knew quite well. He was always using it a lot since it was the simplest form of effective dodging. It revolved around the movement of the knees, feet, and balancing behind the effective reach of the foe. All that Allan could imagine was the position, but doing so wasn't so easy. He could only get used to it and feel it through his own spars. To his knowledge, it was something he used too much, so it could become a burden and opening instead.
“What about you, wild tiger number 2? Do you want to spar or not?” Zigmund's question flew to still sitting Allan.
“Yes. Yes. I will.”
Allan got up while using his staff and entered his zone of influence. He decided to call it like that couple of days ago. It was a position when he felt most comfortable around a specific perimeter around him.
That was the position and reach of his shaft thrusts, which were quite long, but Allan knew it wasn't that effective. Considering his vision, he paid more attention to the sounds than anything else.
It was striking, as well as defending the round space around him. Of course, there was also a blind spot on his back which was natural, since the movement of humans was prone to attacks from behind. In truth, it was more diminished for Allan, who had no sight and acted on the rest of his senses. This way, his blind spot wasn't something that Zigmund could take advantage of, but it was still usable. After all, blind spots could be used by human movements. What defense was there while attacking the back of the foe? Not many.
When the attacks could come to the general blind spots of the human body, it could all mean an inability to defend. Even when one knows the attack was near, what could be the point if they can't defend?
This was a topic Allan reached after some considerations of the last couple of days. His mind was already getting used to this all, but his body wasn't. Even when he was not completely fine with acknowledging this fact, his body was a bit slower in the acting than he would like. It was still better than nothing, while improvements could come over time.
All his overthinking of the forging he used to do, made his mind prudent for another element. Combat was in a similar state of involvement and complexity as forging. Perhaps it was one of the reasons Allan felt kind of good while anticipating every single spar with an open mind. It was like anticipating the forging of a blade that his father used to inform him of a day prior to it.
With Sarey's quick stop, there was no rush to start his part. Allan took his time since Zigmund agreed to take things slowly as well.
“Ready, boy?”
“Yes.” Allan answered and made a quick defensive posture with his staff in a vertical line around himself. Both hands were in the very middle, while he anticipated Zigmund's attack with his ears.
With no surprise, Zigmund was the first to clash against the staff. With a quick motion, it was pushed aside the moment the sword reached the staff. Allan used this opportunity of a sudden force and twisted his hands. Circling his shaft to strike a horizontal strike towards Zigmund's upper body he knew was close.
The strike hit the empty air, but it continued with the flow as no Zigmund was in the way. Allan didn't know where he went but could guess it. So, with the flow going, he changed the horizontal slash, with a circling, that went to a direct thrust upwards. It went right there to the Zigmund, who jumped a meter and a half to not get struck since the dodge would be hard. The reach of the staff was way too big to his liking, and Allan was taking full advantage of it.
It went as expected and Allan noticed Zigmund's move, who had no choice but to take the blunt force of this shaft with his flexed biceps. There was no opportunity to kick or hit Allan in retaliation, as he was forced back a few meters.
“Hmm. This boy has quite a scent of battle.”
Allan returned his staff to his body in preparation to hear the next move. His strike was effective, but how much? He knew the expectations of Zigmund's dodges were effective against any of his strikes. Especially the swings of his staff, which was the easiest to dodge. That could only mean he needed more experience.
This was one of the problems when one was facing the same opponents over and over again. One could get familiar with each other. Mistakes and openings could decide the outcome, while improvements would be more difficult to spot. After all, Zigmund was no teacher or instructor. Just a former soldier, who was keen on forcing his hand against someone he found.
But it was hardly over for Zigmund, whose blood was boiling after continuous days of spars. In the past few days, both of them had ended with a few injuries each time they sparred. This could mean a single fact. They held each other weaknesses and act according to them in their spars. Most of the time, it was a win for Zigmund, although in a few bitter ones.
“Again!” Zigmund shouted, and let out another quick strike after stabilizing himself.
Left and right, Allan parried and sometimes dodged the striking sword that went against his staff. Cleaved air made a clear message of incoming danger, and Allan knew there was something incoming. His previous experience told him that, while his body was getting used to this.
Allan began to feel the attacks a little better, but Zigmund still intentionally hit the staff more than Allan's body. He didn't want to feel bad, bullying the blind boy, after all. Of course, sometimes there was no option, and he still struck his staff to leave an opening.
Like this time, where his swing left Allan defenseless and slowed his hand to return with his staff. The push of Zigmund's force was too great, and a kick soon followed to Allan's chin.
He was flung away and lost his balance. There was no way to go around this than not getting hit like this, but it was better said than done.
To Zigmund's shock, Allan still held his staff and stabilized himself without even falling onto his back. It looked strangely unnatural as if his core of balance was very strong. It held a smooth motion of strength, while his body was a boulder that wouldn't move against the wind or the natural elements.
Allan positioned himself towards the frontal strike. Pulling his staff around his hips and lowering his posture. This was a thrust and an attacking stance.
“Oh, you want to attack me? Alright then.” Zigmund smirked and decided to play along. Circling him a few steps before his striking zone, he knew there was a time for retreat anytime. This was a simple bait for the reaction, while his steps were clear to Allan's ears.
Shoo!
As suddenly as Zigmund circled to his right, Allan changed his left and made not a thrusting attack. Instead, he struck as if it was a blunt weapon towards the very middle of Zigmund. As if faced with a mace, Allan held the lower end of the staff and attacked.
Anticipating the attack, Zigmund lowered himself and prepared for his defense. He was left in a sudden dilemma as this attack could be bait.
Allan struck not in a straight horizontal way, but a vertical one, which went towards the ground.
“Oh, crap.” Zigmund cursed and forced his legs to jump beyond the attack. He knew the truth of this bait right away, while he could have backstopped away. Too bad he didn't, and Allan proceeded with the swing and as Zigmund jumped backward, he changed his stance to the thrust.
The tip of the tough staff went straight to Zigmund's chest which was wide open. Zigmund was barely able to defend this strike with his crisscrossed arms.
He was flung even further than Allan before.
“Yaaay. Way to go, Allan!” Sarey cheered him up aside and clapped her hands for a few moments.