"Stand up!"

I gasped for air as I struggled to stand up. My arms felt like lead, and my legs trembled from the exertion. I took deep breaths to try and calm down, and stood up wobbily, my sense of balance regaining itself slowly as I righted myself up with difficulty.

"It took you 23 seconds to stand up, enough time for an enemy to slit your throat and steal your valuables," my father, Nicolas, stood imposingly a few feet in front of me, a wooden training sword in his hand, "Come at me again."

Not wasting time, I charged forward, my training sword raised high in an attempt to slash at his head. Scoffing, my father nimbly dodged to the side and gave a roundhouse to my gut. I coughed out spit, and a bit of blood as I was sent tumbling back down to the ground, the dirt staining my training clothes.

"Again! Stand up!"

I followed his instructions and tried to stand up, but my beaten and bruised body refused to move. I lay down on the ground face first, some dirt entering my mouth as I struggled to flip myself over.

"Hmm…" father approached my beaten body and towered above my vision, "Alright, training’s over for today."

He grabbed the scruff of my neck and promptly brought me to a standing position, which I then botched up since I collapsed forwards.

"Woah, hey," my father grabbed me again, and this time he didn’t let go. "Damn it, forgot that you’re still weak."

When I said train me to fight, I didn’t mean train me like I was going to war the next day! This is fucking ridiculous! The first day and I’m already like a beaten up rag with a bunch of holes in it.

I thought that we would first go over strengthening the body, like doing push-ups, curl-ups, pull-ups, then go into the basics…

Instead, he went all drill sergeant from hell on me!

"Honey," the voice of my mother reached my ears and I felt my father tense, "what did I tell you about pushing our child too far…?"

"Erm… That I shouldn’t do it…?" He squeaked out and dropped me to the floor because of fear. When I landed on the floor with my face up, I could see his mouth open. A quick peek at my mother’s sickening, sweet smile told me everything I needed to know.

"Honey, I'll talk to you later," she said, her terrifying smile sending shivers down my spine. "Call the maids and our children and let them help Michael."

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"Y-yes ma’am!" Nicolas all but sped through the courtyard and into the mansion. While all that happened, I was still trying to catch my breath from the beating I received from my father’s demonic training.

"See, I told you your body wouldn’t handle it." My mother crouched down low and cupped my dirt-stained face with her hand.

"I… I… Sorry… But I… Need the… Training…" I voiced my response while catching air in my mouth. My mother smiled at me and brought her lips to kiss my dirty forehead.

"I know." She stood up and waited by my side as I regained control of my body. We waited in silence for a few minutes before my siblings, followed by a pair of maids, entered the courtyard.

"Brother!" Michelle ran and crashed into me on the ground, dirtying herself in the process. She didn’t care, though, as was evident by her cheeks rubbing on mine.

"Michelle!" Mariam ran after her and pried her off me. "Can’t you see he is aching right now? Also, look at what you’ve done with your dress!"

Michelle pouted at Mariam’s scolding as she stuck out her tongue at Mariam. Maxim was stone-faced as ever, while mother chuckled at the display.

The maids, however, were getting busy stabilizing my body and cleaning me up with towels and undressing my top.

I let them. I was too tired to care anyway. My siblings bickered while our mother watched. It continued like this until the maids were done with cleaning my upper body, and when I was also able to get my bearings back.

I'm sure I'll be in pain later and tomorrow, and my father will still train me...

I’m screwed, aren’t I?

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

The training continued. Every day, it felt like my body was going to give up. My mind was tested to its limit, but I refused to give up. My bones cracked, my muscles ached, and my wounds bled.

But every mistake, I fixed. Every bruise was healed, and I made sure that every time I fell, I got back up.

I dodged a strike coming from overhead and countered with a quick stab to the gut. My father smacked the flat side of my training sword away with his hand, causing me to lose my center of balance.

‘Ah… shit…’

My father then delivered a kick to my solar plexus, sending me crashing to the ground. I got up quickly, however, since this spar didn’t end until either I got a hit on my father, or he knocks me out.

Over the months of training, I have learned to endure the pain. Pain like this wasn’t enough to bring me out of the fight, and my father realized this, so he decided to knock the consciousness out of me during our sparring.

"Ha!" I lunged at him with a stab, my wooden sword poised to pierce through his body. My father parried my blade with his own, but I was counting on it. With the additional force, I spun my body around and performed a reverse roundhouse kick. Father was late in his reaction and wasn’t able to dodge the kick, but was able to block it with his arm.

I grinned. Finally! After months of training, I was able to land a hit on my father!

Then I blacked out.

[][][][][][][][][][][][]

Unbelievable… How petty can a man get…?

"I said, the spar is over if you can get a GOOD, CLEAN hit on me."

My left eyebrow twitched in irritation. I can get where he’s coming from, but really…?

"Mike!" my twin sister barreled into me. Before my training, both of us would’ve spiralled to the ground, but now, I was able to hold my ground and accept the forceful tackle-hug from the excited blonde.

"What's got you so fired up right now...?" I asked with a tilt of my head, a habit I got from Maxim.

"This!" Michelle separated, then held her hand up. A flicker of light appeared, then a flame. "I can use magic!"

… Excuse me…?