Chapter 18: A martial arts master from a very distant land
Jin decided to remain at House Cavell for two more days. Since the Wall promised nothing but hardship, he saw no reason to rush toward it. A comfortable bed and hot meals were luxuries worth enjoying while they were still within reach.
But he was not merely delaying the inevitable.
He intended to use the time to train.
That plan, however, led to several unpleasant discoveries.
The first thing he learned the next morning was that swords were significantly heavier than they looked.
The second thing he learned was that his body hated him.
A cold northern wind swept across the House Cavel’s training yard.
Frost covered the grass, and the breath of every man present turned white in the morning air.
And Encrid Gannon was suffering.
"Again."
Sir Gareth, the senior-most knight that was accompanying him to the wall, seemed very disappointed, and his words didn’t have a speck of sympathy as he instructed.
Jin raised the wooden training sword, or at least he tried to.
His shoulders were protesting against it, his arms were too.
Muscles that he hadn’t even known existed were suddenly acting up with extreme enthusiasm.
He took a breath and stepped forward.
He swung the sword.
The result was... terrible!
His footing was wrong, his hips didn’t move correctly, the blade wobbled through the air like a drunk bird, it was completely messy.
The three other knights watched in silence.
Sir Gareth sighed.
"Again."
Jin wanted to hit him. Unfortunately, even that would require certain competence with a sword. So he settled for glaring instead.
It didn’t move Sir Gareth, of course.
"Again."
The wooden blade rose. Fell. Rose. Fell.
The Process Repeated.
Again, and again, and again.
By the twentieth repetition, Jin’s arms felt like wet noodles. By the thirtieth, his lungs were burning.
By the fortieth, he was beginning to suspect that original Encird had never exercised a single day in his life.
Which honestly explained quite a lot.
"Again."
Jin nearly dropped the sword.
Sir Gareth stared at him, Jin stared back - neither of them was ready to yield.
Eventually, he picked the weapon back up. Because as much as he hated it - he hated being weak more.
✧ ✧ ✧
Lord Ferris found them three hours later.
The Baron stood near the edge of the training yard with his hands clasped behind his back, silently observing the knights as they drilled.
Meanwhile, Encrid was sprawled flat on his back in the dirt.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat soaked his clothes. His stomach jiggled with every desperate breath as he stared blankly at the sky.
"....Are you dead, young master?"
Lord Ferris asked.
"Almost there."
"Pity."
Jin turned his head.
The baron looked completely serious.
"You’re not very encouraging, Lord Ferris."
"I do not encourage people who choose this voluntarily."
Jin groaned and pushed himself upright.
Every part of his body hurt, which made absolutely no sense.
Encrid had already unsealed a Star and possessed an Initiated Realm body. Even if he had spent years indulging himself, he should have been far stronger than an ordinary man.
’Just how lazy was this bastard?’
Jin silently cursed Encrid as he picked up the wooden sword once more. Lord Ferris watched him with mild curiosity.
"You intend to swing that thing again?"
"Of course."
"You are aware that the knights could teach you something more useful than a simple downward slash, are you not?"
"Yeah, I know."
"Then why are you still doing this? "
Jin rested the wooden sword across his shoulder and grinned.
"Someone very famous once said this, Lord Ferris."
"Oh?"
"Be afraid of the man who has practiced one strike ten thousand times, not the man who knows ten thousand strikes."
Lord Ferris raised an eyebrow.
"Was it the founding emperor? Or the divine sage, perhaps?"
"Huh?"
"The individual who said it."
For a moment, Jin simply stared. Then he burst out laughing.
"No. Someone even more famous."
"More famous than the Founding Emperor?"
"Much more."
Lord Ferris frowned.
"There is such a person?"
"Of course."
"Who?"
Jin opened his mouth. Then paused.
Because he suddenly realized there was absolutely no way to explain Bruce Lee to a medieval noble.
"...A martial arts master from a very distant land."
✧ ✧ ✧
The training continued until noon.
When Sir Gareth finally called for a break, Jin felt as though his arms had been torn off and crudely stitched back on.
The knights and guards gathered around a long wooden table set up near the barracks. Servants moved back and forth carrying bowls of stew, bread, and watered ale.
As expected, the knights sat together. The guards occupied another section.
The servants sat separately.
As he sat down with the knights, his eyes wandered across the yard.
Then he noticed something strange.
Gus was eating alone.
The boy sat near a storage shed with a bowl of stew balanced on his knees. He ate quietly, almost trying not to be noticed.
Jin frowned.
Now that he thought about it, Gus always seemed to keep his distance.
During the journey, Jin had assumed the boy was simply busy with work.
But even now, when everyone was eating, he remained alone.
Jin grabbed his bowl and walked over.
Gus immediately stood up.
"Young Master."
The reaction was so quick that Jin almost stopped.
"Relax. I’m just eating."
Gus remained standing.
"...Yes, Young Master."
Jin looked at the empty spot beside him.
Then at Gus.
Then back at the empty spot.
"Are you planning to stand there the whole time?"
The boy hesitated before sitting down carefully, as if he expected to be punished for it.
Jin found that oddly uncomfortable.
For a while, they ate in silence.
Then Jin spoke.
"Have you ever trained with a sword?"
Gus nearly dropped his spoon.
"A sword?"
"Yeah."
"No."
The answer came very quickly.
Jin narrowed his eyes.
"That sounded suspicious."
"It wasn’t."
"It definitely was."
Gus lowered his head and focused very hard on his stew.
Jin laughed.
The kid was terrible at lying.
"Well, whether you’ve trained or not, you’re joining me tomorrow."
Gus blinked.
"...Joining you?"
"For training."
The boy looked genuinely horrified.
"Young Master, I don’t think that’s a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because..."
Gus searched desperately for an answer.
"I don’t know how."
"Perfect. Neither do I."
Across the yard, Sir Gareth glanced over and immediately felt a headache coming.
Jin pointed his spoon at the boy.
"Tomorrow morning."
✦ ✦ ✦