"From the doubt in your voice, you know as well as I do that despite your improvements in our Battle games, your strategy will not save you in this fight. You do not yet know how to apply the skill that you have learned on the board to real-life battles. Nor is it something that I can properly teach you.
Your Battle training serves as nothing more than the building of potential – the gathering of fuel for a grand fire that may be ignited later in your life," Dominus said.
"Then what do I even do?" Beam shouted, unable to help himself. "I've got nothing then, do I?"
"Well… I suppose you've got a new sword," Dominus said weakly. "That will at least count for something. It seems you're better suited for a sword than you were a knife, so improving your technique with it over the course of today will at least amount to something… but..."
That was where the crux of the matter lay. Tomorrow, he would have to fight the Hobgoblin. Last night, after meeting with Greeves, he had once more met up with Nila, giving her a full silver coin as a reward for their hunting quest. She had shouted in joy upon receiving it, her eyes filled with gratitude as she thanked him over and over.
And Beam had stood there meekly, forcing a smile, knowing that if she knew of his intention to slay the Hobgoblin, he'd snatch that joy away from her, and force her into worry.
Then, he'd returned home and told his master of the events. Whilst calm now, he had not been upon their receipt. He'd even shouted, which was rare for him. Calling Beam a fool for narrowing his own odds of victory more and more, for forcing himself into this very situation in the first place.
But such a thing, even though unpleasant at the time, had filled Beam with warmth. It had been many long cold years since he had people around him that cared whether he lived or whether he died.
"I don't want to lose again…" Beam admitted.
"I mean, obviously. Few people long for death," Dominus said.
But that wasn't what Beam had meant when he said that. It was his greed in him, wanting more. Despite the warmth that now surrounded him, despite the care of his master, of Nila and her family. He still wanted more. He couldn't be satisfied with his own mediocre competence.
And so, even though he was in the position he was, even though he had to fight a Hobgoblin tomorrow when he was nowhere near ready, he didn't want to change that task, he didn't want more time.
For him, it was now or never. The only thing he wanted was victory. That burning desire to conquer. He couldn't stand his own weakness for even a moment longer.
"I won't lose," Beam murmured to himself, just loud enough for Dominus to hear.
The old knight sighed. "You're a promising kid, y'know. I genuinely do think you've got potential. You've impressed me to no end over this past month. But this greed of yours, it's going to get you killed. I can not defend you tomorrow.
I will not step in to save your life. These last few hours of yours, the weight of your life weighs on every single one of them."
Beam didn't flinch when he heard Dominus would not step in to save his life should things go wrong – he was going to ask him not to anyway. By his eyes, it was victory, or it was death. He simply could not stomach that third failure. That was his weakness.
"That's fine," Beam said. "I want this opportunity to go all the way."
Dominus shook his head. "Well, I'll do what I can for you, boy. But I don't sense the smell of any progress from you yet – I don't know how you can seize victory without improving."
"I'll find a way," Beam said, readying his sword again. But Dominus held up a hand to stop him.
"We can continue sparring after dinner. Go and test your strength and speed before then, so at least we know what we're working with," Dominus said.
Beam nodded in agreement, unable to help himself from glancing at his leg.
"It's still bothering you?" Dominus asked.
"Less than it was, but it's still there," Beam said.
"Mm… You're lucky to be walking on it so soon. To think you'd really be trying to fight a Hobgoblin on it… Hah. Kids are exhausting. Go on then, get those damn stones lifted. I'll cook you up something to eat," Dominus said.
Beam nodded, rolling out the first of the stones and slowly warming himself up. When he thought back to just a week ago, when he could hardly lift the first stone due to his injury, he had to be just a little bit thankful that he'd recovered so fast – now there was only the tiniest twinge of pain as he hefted the small stone.
And then he went onto the second one. Similarly, this wasn't too bad for him either now. The pain was there, but it was tolerable. He managed ten lifts comfortably enough.
Then the third. He lifted it with some amount of apprehension, knowing that the pain was only liable to get worse. And indeed, he was right. When he demanded that much more strength from it, the muscle groaned in complaint as though a creature was biting into it. But he lifted the stone anyway, more comfortably than he had in some time.
Not willing to leave it there, whilst there was still something in the tank, he lifted it again and again and again, more limited by his pain tolerance than he was by his strength. At his tenth lift, Dominus signalled for him to stop.
"Leave it there for now," he said, "there's no point giving your all on it yet, not when you've got bigger fish to catch…. Mm. Ten lifts though, that's better than I expected it would be. Your strength is coming back. Perhaps there's a slight bit more hope than I'd thought. Go and do some sprints now, see how well you can move."
Beam did as he was told, walking a little distance away so that he was on the worn-down trail, but still within view of Dominus' camp. He glanced, seeing that the old warrior was busy stirring their pot of food. "Go on," Dominus said, seeing him looking.