No matter how many times I tried to parry, the blow missed entirely and I ended up flat on my face. The boy standing in front of me was not that much older, perhaps sixteen, but he had clearly honed his sword-fighting skills to a point far beyond where I was currently. Every time he hit me, despite the lack of any malicious intent, it felt like I was getting smacked back by a battering ram.

I had decided that enrolling in the village sword-fighting league would help develop my skills, but most were already adept in the basics, and I was putting in a significant amount of effort in order to keep up with them. There was still a sense of deja-vu every time a particular attack tactic was explained to me, and I usually felt my limbs seemingly move on their own to counteract the advanced skill the others were demonstrating.

The boy, his surname Cabal, was not the fastest in the group, yet his precision in deflecting blows was unmatched by most of the others. I don’t think I got a single hit on him during our first time sparring. Combined with his physical prowess, I was always at a disadvantage. In the group, there were altogether forty boys and ten girls, about ten of them roughly my age. My best guess would have been that I was around the middle of the pack for my age, somewhere around the fourth or fifth weakest. There were a couple boys born just before me, and also the two sons of the village’s head.

Still, it was a small proportion of the village’s kids, which numbered in the hundreds. I could see myself beating the vast majority of them in any form of combat, as long as they weren’t much larger than me. Then again, it was mainly because I’d kept up my training since I was little. Most kids were simply going to continue being farmers, but I had loftier goals on my mind.

Already I knew that in a previous life I had reached the rank of paladin, so I could not waver in my dedication to the cause. I would gnash my teeth and continue regardless, no matter the obstacles I would have to overcome.

Of the four others that were surely better than me, I could see myself beating one of them if I continued at such a pace for the following months, and the other three I could catch up to by the time we were adults. A few days had passed since my dream, and I had already improved quite a lot. My mana rate had definitely gone up, and I could run almost twice as long without getting tired. My strikes had improved as well, as had the weight distribution of my attacks. I could say with no arrogance that I was around the level of a fairly trained teenager, at least in terms of ability, though I would lose due to differences in size and reaction time.

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The boy came towards me once again, and I tried to dodge to the side, my legs propelling me to the left as his weapon passed by a few inches away from my shoulder with a swoosh. Pulling my arm away, I twisted away from his blow, and, pushing forward off the muddy earth, struck his temple. His own weapon came up almost at the perfect time, but I just barely managed to knock him back slightly. He raised his eyebrows and stared at me.

“I wouldn’t have expected that from you, Fernando. How did you get so good?” He planted his sword in the ground, leaning upon it.

“Oh, just revised,” I said, and gave a cheeky wink. We circled around once, our swords almost clashing. He twirled his hilt around and advanced towards me, this time opting for a more direct strike, his stance narrow. Using his weight, he was able to pull his sword towards my stomach. I’d have been gone, if not for the fact that we were fighting with wooden swords. Hence when his weapon hit me, I merely allowed myself to fall forward into it, and strike at him when his guard was down.

It hurt. A lot.

Eyes widening, he raised his arm up to protect his face. I knew he was going to do so, and maneuvered my sword straight to his armpit instead, where he wasn’t wearing any armor. With a yelp, he dropped his sword. He’d been going easy on me for the last ten minutes, and could have finished me off whenever he wanted, but I managed to defeat him in the end.

I stood in front of the boy, wheezing, barely able to keep myself from falling. “I will remember this,” he pronounced, picking his sword back up off the ground. “You have a bright future, my friend. I hope we see each other at the academy,” he said, taking my sword as well and placing them back on the racks. “My name is Alberto,” he declared, extending his hand towards me.

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The next few days passed by in a blur, while I kept helping Marcus prepare for his exam, and my uncle clean up the house. Marcus definitely was steadily improving, and I was glad that I was able to return the test sheets to Mr Solomon the day after, since someone else had tried the same stunt and he had turned him in to the town officers. I didn’t think the punishment would be all that terrible, but it was one less thing I had to worry about.

My uncle and I were also able to get most of the rubble out, and we got to work on installing a brand new staircase, with him saying he’d been meaning to get a new one. I even played fivish a bit, though I wasn’t very good at it. Maria often had to block most of the shots I let whizz by past me, reaching the very top of the goal despite her short stature. Often, she and I stayed afterwards with Marcus to talk about the upcoming festival. They were only a couple of weeks left, and I wanted to make the most of them.

One day, as I was walking back to the farm, I saw Maria leaving the general store, clutching a strange parcel by her side, the man who had tried to sell me a spell formula watching her go.