Chapter 6: Art of War (II)

Stance.

It was not supposed to be too fixed, nor too tense; it was supposed to flow from one to another smoothly. Defense into offense at the slightest opportunities presented – and to be able to defend one’s weakness after attacking just as quickly.

Grip.

It should not be too tight – if it was, it would only lead one to strain their wrists. At the same time, it should not be too loose – if it was, the sword would easily fly off. Balance was key.

Mentality.

Clear one’s emotions. Scan one’s enemy with the utmost attention and focus. Recognition is core, Prediction is inevitable, and Precognition is an ideal.

– Or the Way of the Sword’s Philosophy was supposed to be like that. While Magnus respected the Way of the Sword, he wasn’t quite too fond of it. He did tell Tobias that the moment a soldier is forced to draw their sword in the battlefield, it was also the moment a soldier’s chances of dying skyrocketed.

But Tobias had to admit. The Way of the Sword sounded awesome. The dedication of swordmasters to pursue the path of honing their sword skills to something transcending human limitations sounded appealing to him.

But no. Tobias didn’t quite have the time to do so right now. Swords were but only one of many weapons, and weren’t even quite the strongest weapons. The amount of time he needed to dedicate to a mid-level weapon – wasn’t quite worthwhile in Magnus’ opinion.

For Tobias though... Swords were cool. And he might focus on it after a while, when the old man wasn’t looking.

“Alright, that’s enough daydreaming for now.” Magnus called out, snapping Tobias away from his thoughts.

Tobias stood up from the log he was sitting in, and found it amusing that the log’s entire surface was covered in snow, aside from the spot he was sitting on just a few moments ago. He picked up the wooden sword, and found that the handle was cold. But it didn’t matter, a few moments of holding it would warm it up, anyways.

“Is there anything new you’d teach me?” Tobias asked, his sword pointing towards the snow-dusted ground.

“Aside from quickly executing a downed enemy, then I do not think that I have anything else to teach you.” Magnus replied, and then gave a thoughtful hum. “If you master the fundamentals I taught you, then I might be willing to impart some of my executing knowledge.”

Tobias gave a small grimace. “What makes you think I want to learn how to execute a person?”

“Could save your life one day, you know?” The old man let out a small chuckle. “But offer still stands.” Then he gripped his blade with both hands, and took up a stance. “Ready yourself.”

Tobias also took a stance of his own. “Let’s go.”

The air was frigid, and the ground was slippery with snow. Everything was a white canvas, with the only exceptions being the colors of the trees’ trunks, and their opponent, who was only a few steps away – four, maybe three.

Nothing else mattered. Tobias’ eyes were sharp, as he kept watch of Magnus like a bird stalking their prey. Likewise, Magnus observed him with just as much intensity, and seemed perfectly content to just wait.

Tobias sucked in the frigid air to inhale, and let out a mist-like fog when he exhaled. Frosted air in, warmed air out.

Then he lunged towards his opponent. His sword was raised to deliver a quick diagonal cut. It was blocked by Magnus, and the angle of his block allowed him to position a thrust while their blades were bound...!

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Tobias’ head leaned backwards to barely dodge the thrust headed towards his face. And in that same moment, he took a step backwards to stabilize himself, and sent a quick jab towards Magnus’ extended hands.

It had the intended effect; Magnus pulled back his arms, and by extension, the sword that was hovering just a few inches away from Tobias’ face.

It was back to the waiting game. Their short exchange which lasted only a moment was not decisive in any way, so they returned back to stalking their opponent, observing the tiniest of details to be had.

Magnus attacked next. His sword came in from the ground, diagonally soaring towards Tobias. He flicked his blade to parry it, and Magnus’ blade only used the momentum of the parry to reverse the direction of his next strike. It was a diagonal descent towards Tobias.

He raised his sword, and blocked the strike with the near-guard part of his blade, before letting his blade arc through the air to slash towards Magnus’ head. But Magnus only raised his sword to parry the strike, before sending a quick downwards flick to strike towards Tobias’ wrists.

Tobias flicked his blade upwards, barely catching the strike with the near-guard of his blade. He twisted his blade so that his guard would provide proper protection, and sent a thrust towards Magnus. In response, the old man took a step backwards, their blades disengaging.

The waiting game, once more. The part where anticipation was as its peak, and where a single exchange could end the fight in any moment. Any slip up. Any feint. Any parry, any counter – anything could end the exchange in any moment.

Magnus attacked again. It was a direct thrust aimed towards his heart, and Tobias parried it by flicking his blade to send it off course. Tobias took half a step backwards, and raised his sword to deliver a swift, descending strike towards Magnus.

Magnus blocked it with the upper half of his blade, and maneuvered his blade around to try to get an angle to thrust – but Tobias forced their blades into an awkward bind.

The angles were strange – neither one could land a clean, certain hit on the other party. Yet at the same time, it was a volatile bind. If one moves even an inch in either direction, then it would allow a window of attack. So both Tobias and Magnus – they fought the bind as best as they could, pushing with as much force as they could.

And Tobias had the upper ground – his enhanced stability afforded to him by his two legs allowed him better leverage, and a better base to channel his strength. So he stepped forwards, and pushed his sword down.

But Magnus did something he didn’t expect. The old man gripped the middle blade of his sword, before he slid his sword to let the bind end. Magnus re-angled his blade, and with one hand on the grip, and the other hand on the blade, he sent a precise, quick thrust towards Tobias’ head...!

Did this man not care about his own defenses at this point?

Tobias raised his sword, and the sanded-down end of the blade pointed towards Magnus’ exposed chest. But at the same time, Magnus had his sword pointed towards Tobias’ head.

Neither party moved for a moment. But for Tobias, it felt like the longest time. Then finally, Magnus lowered his weapon, and he followed soon after.

“Why?” Tobias asked, and his question only made his mentor turn his head slightly to indicate he was listening. “Why did you go for that maneuver?”

That maneuver – the half-swording technique Magnus just pulled off. It was the only reason why they have achieved stalemate as is, but then again a thrust to the head is decisively more lethal than a thrust to the chest. But for all intents, their practice match ended like so.

“Here’s a better question for you, kid. Why did you not try to use your legs to kick me down or something?” Magnus grunted, pointing towards said appendages in question.

Tobias blinked. “That’s... dishonorable. The last time I did, you lost balance. And if I just keep kicking you down, how am I supposed to learn anything?”

Then it was Magnus’ turn to blink. “You chose the hard way then, is it? Not bad, not bad.” Then he let out a small grin. “You are not wrong, after all. Tell me then. How long do you think we would keep exchanging strikes before a victor is decided?”

“Maybe after...” Tobias paused. His train of thought stopped, and he tried to recall the recent spar which just happened. At the rate of their fighting... as long as Tobias didn’t resort to kicking, then... He let out a sigh. “I don’t know.” He admitted.

“Exactly.” Magnus gave a nod. “I do not know how or why you are able to progress this quickly, but the point is, this duel would only lead to mutual exhaustion, or a stalemate. And I was getting bored, anyways.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do not worry about it.” Magnus gave a wave of dismissal. “Oh, and your birthday was a week ago, correct?”

Tobias gave a blink. Then he nodded. “I’m more surprised you remembered – ow.”

Magnus retracted the wooden sword which had lightly tapped against the boy’s head. “There was a reason why I told you to take the day off, remember?”

“It wasn’t a coincidence?”

“No, you fool.” Magnus sighed. Then he reached towards the insides of his winter coat, and retrieved something wrapped in black cloth, and tied with a little red string. How ominous. “Here is your birthday present.”

“Thank you, Sir Magnus.” He said, bowing down as he clutched the gift tightly to his chest.

“Enough with the ‘sir’ honorific or whatever.” Magnus waved his hands in dismissal again. “Anyways, that is all for today. Go home now.”

“I see...” Tobias stood straight, and carried the gift with his left hand. And with his right arm, he gave a salute, just like how his mentor taught him. “Thank you, Magnus.”

“Do know that if you are ever forced to use that gift, then you might be better off dead.” His mentor said, and waved him off. With that, Tobias turned around, and started to walk back home. As he did, he unraveled the gift he received, and he stared at it with some mild amusement.

He wasn’t wrong; if he did have to rely on this gift, then it would be terrible.

The gift was practical and tacky, that’s for sure. But then again, it was just very... Magnus in its own way. So with a relieved smile to himself, he re-wrapped his new gift, and placed it within the insides of his winter coat.