Capítulo 20: Training
"Rest. We shall continue this tomorrow." I instructed them. At my words the three collapsed in a pile.
"Do not simply lie on the ground! Get yourselves moving to the bathroom. Soak in cold water for a while." I admonished.
For once, Alva was silent as he followed the other two to the washroom. Despite their low spirits, I was a little glad that they were able to finish the target workout for today. I only have 6 days left to train them. Hopefully, everything goes as planned.
I am especially worried for Dustan.
He's still learning the ropes of hand-to-hand combat. Although he is progressing nicely, I'm not sure to what extent he'll be able to improve in less than a week's time. So for now, I'm just teaching him how to use one saber.
After we ate dinner, I told them to get a good rest and stretch before going to bed. Now that I'm not intoxicated, I found it hard to keep a straight face as I led Hund to my room. I really need to clear up the rooms meant for the disciples.
Especially with two new kids about to join us.
Or maybe I shall simply threaten them that losing is not an option. That way, I will not have to take in anyone.
The silly thought elated me, if only a little.
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"Dear, calm down. Just, calm down." I could hear the panic in her voice.
"Mom?"
"Remember, child. Self-control! You're the boss of your own emotions. Do not let the voices get to you, dear."
Another blood-curling scream.
"Mom, what is happening?" I was trembling in fear. And when I saw myself in a mirror, I realized the cause of such ear-splitting wails.
Me.
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I sat up, throwing my sheets off me. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself inside. Immediately, my knees buckled from beneath me and I dropped down on the floor.
My whole body was shaking. Fear, shock, anger—the whirlwind of emotions served only to drive me further to the edge.
I was a mess. Confused about my emotions, cursed by the blotched nightmares that continue to haunt me.
Forcing myself to stand, I opened the faucet and let the cold water wash over my face. My hands were freezing, but I didn't have the mind to warm them up.
"Master? Are you alright?"
It was Hund. Dear gods, that made me jump from my skin.
"I'm doing fine! Get back to sleep." I yelled from the other side of the door. Despite my instruction, I could feel Hund's presence on the other side of the door. He never left.
I noticed, a while later, that I had stopped trembling. Wiping my face, I did my best to hide the remnants of my misery with a mask of apathy.
"I told you, get some sleep." I opened the door. Hund bowed his head.
"Yes, Master." He didn't say anything else and really did go back to sleep.
And I had no other choice but to start my day earlier than the usual lot, unable to go back to sleep.
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"Today, we will not only focus on improving your endurance. I shall be teaching you how to improve your personal techniques."
"How exactly are you going to do that?" Alva catechized.
"Always quick to question things. Have a little patience, Alva." I admonished him. "Now, why don't we look into Alva's current fighting style? What does his fighting style lack?"
"It lacks nothing. I have perfected it down to the details." Alva scoffed.
"And, that's why you'll never win to me." I hosed him down.
"Wha—"
"Dustan, what do you think?"
"I believe he lacks versatility, Master." Dustan replied without missing holding back.
"And why do you think that?"
"From observation, he lacks flexibility as his attacks focuses on using his legs as offense and his arms as defense. "
"Correct."
"Nonsense! I'm plenty flexible, if I do say so myself. Kicks have longer reach and more momentum—the core of my fighting style. I have already trained my arms to withstand hard blows, perfect for defense!" He justified.
I shook my head. "Your narrow mindset is exactly what Dustan is pointing at. Truth be told, your technique is detailed and well-thought, Alva. But face it—that reliance on your ideals shackles you. Momentum, although an important part of any battle, is simply not the determining factor to success."
"Take for example, your fight with Hund. As soon as you were caught, unable to move, your already lost your main weapon. I assure you, Alva, if it weren't for Hund's inadequate knowledge in defense, you would have lost."
I threw bandages at Alva. "Wrap those around your fists and do some shadow training for now to improve your hand-to-eye coordination when using your arms."
"What?! But—"
I glared at him. "Do it." Thankfully, the boy got the hint. He no longer argued any further and simply did as he was told. Although he did grumble a lot.
"Now, for you Hund. I want you to practice defense. I have already taught you the defensives forms for close ranged fighters. Now, use your body to remember them. I shall give you chances to utilize them in real battle, as soon as you are ready."
Hund nodded and began to practice his defensive stance.
"We shall spar in this afternoon to get the best results of your individual training."
"Master, what about me?"
I turned to Dustan. "You, on the other hand. You do not have a working technique. Thus, I shall have you work on your own style in the afternoon. I have already taught you the basics of using a saber. Now, use your head to come up with your own style."
"Yes, Master."
"Picture it in your head, Dustan. What do you want to become? What's your strength?"
"I want to protect." He replied.
"What?"
"I want to protect the ones I love... without hurting my opponents."
I had to stifle a groan. But, it was pretty evident in my facial expression that I was taking none of that shit.
"I shall give you a bit more time think about it. Maybe then you would snap out of your naïve convictions."
Dustan looked disconsolate. "Master, I want to stay true to my self."
"Your ideals makes one a fool. I have said it before. This Tower is not a place where you play the chivalrous hero. Dustan, this is an arena and everyone fights with their lives on the line. Unless you stomach that, you will never be able to succeed in here."
"There is my reason than simply succeeding. Master, I know deep down you understand me. You understand the fear of failure, and the treacherous feelings it keeps at bay. That is why I want to find a way to fight without hurting my opponents. Please, do not take this away from me."
I scoffed. "You speak of tales, boy. I believe you are old enough to stop dreaming."
"I believe in myself, Master." Dustan remained firm. Not even an ounce of dithering can be seen in his eyes. Ah, youth—how foolish.
I shook head.
"You cannot even win a match. What use is your ideals?" I reproached him. Dustan hung his head low, as if to show respect despite his adamant hardheadedness. I let out a sigh.
"We shall talk about the matter of your fighting style at a later date. For now, just focus on what I taught you."
"What? But Master, what about my style then?"
I rubbed my temple at the headache I was beginning to feel. "Don't force it, Dustan. Just... just leave it be."
And with that, I left him there.
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