Kyle adjusted his grip on the wooden tachi, fingers curling tighter around the hilt. He took a deep breath. Steadying his nerves.
Across from him. Anastasia stood with her practice sword resting lightly on her shoulder. Her posture relaxed, almost lazy.
She looked like she didn't have a care in the world. No tension in her arms. No stance. Just calm confidence.
The difference between them was almost ridiculous.
Kyle looked like a coiled spring, every muscle tensed and ready to move.
Anastasia looked like she'd wandered into a sparring match by accident and hadn't decided if she wanted to participate.
She tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes half-lidded. "Whenever you're ready."
He launched forward in an instant. His feet gliding over the ground with trained precision.
No mana, just raw speed and skill. His wooden tachi sliced through the air in a clean horizontal arc aimed for her neck.
A fast. Controlled strike that could knock anyone off balance.
Anastasia's sword came up with a flick.
Blocking his strike with perfect timing. It wasn't even a proper guard.
She just lifted her sword like she was swatting away a leaf. The impact rang through Kyle's arms, but her stance didn't shift.
"Not bad," she said lightly. "But you're telegraphing."
Kyle didn't respond. He pulled back and came in again. This time with a sharp thrust to her midsection.
She twisted her wrist, deflecting it sideways.
He ducked low, aiming a sweeping cut at her legs. Anastasia lifted her foot just enough to avoid it, like she was stepping over a puddle.
Kyle growled under his breath and feinted high before whipping the blade low again. Diagonal slash up toward her shoulder. Faster. Sharper.
Anastasia leaned slightly out of reach. Her blade tapped his tachi's side, knocking it wide.
"Better," she said. "Still obvious."
Kyle gritted his teeth and pressed harder. His sword danced through the air in fast, tight arcs.
Overhead strikes. Jabs to her chest. Quick, sweeping cuts to her arms and sides.
His footwork shifted constantly. Left, right, forward, back. Trying to find an opening.
But she blocked them all.
Her movements were like water. Flowing from one block to another with perfect rhythm. Her arms barely moved. Her expression didn't change.
She hadn't moved a single step since the fight started.
Kyle's breath came faster. Sweat rolled down his face. He pivoted, spinning into a heavy strike aimed at her ribs.
She blocked it one-handed.
"Don't forget your hips," she said casually. "Power comes from rotation, not your arms."
Kyle adjusted instantly. He shifted his weight and twisted into the next swing. Adding his full body behind it.
"Good," she said. "But don't stop. Keep flowing."
Kyle grunted and kept moving. He poured everything into the next few strikes.
High cut. Low jab. Feint left. Step right. Overhead slash. He used every trick he knew.
Still, Anastasia didn't move.
Her sword caught every blow like it was nothing. She didn't flinch. Didn't blink. She just smiled at him. was fun.
Kyle's legs were starting to ache. His lungs burned. But he pushed harder. He stepped in close, pretending to go for a slash.
Then suddenly ducked and swept his leg out. Aiming to knock her off balance.
For the first time, Anastasia moved. She hopped lightly over the sweep, landing without a sound.
"Ooh. Clever," she said, smirking. "Trying to trip me? Dirty tactics. I like it."
Kyle sprang up and attacked again, not letting her reset.
He used her moment of movement to bring his tachi down in a powerful diagonal cut.
And this time, she pushed back. Just a little.
Not enough to knock him off balance. But enough to remind him of the difference in their skills.
Still. She hadn't moved from her spot.
Kyle tried again, this time swinging low and wide. Hoping to force her to step back.
She twisted her wrist and batted his sword away like it was nothing.
"You're overcommitting," she said. "Tighten your form."
Kyle's frustration boiled under the surface. His body was running on instinct now.
Strike, pivot, step in, slash. The movements were sharp and fast. But no matter how hard he tried—
Her sword was always there.
Kyle's breathing turned ragged. His combat suit clung to him, soaked through. His arms felt heavy. But he didn't stop.
She hadn't counterattacked once.
She hadn't even broken a sweat.
She was teaching him while defending perfectly. That thought made Kyle's pride sting even more.
Still, he swung again. More out of stubbornness than strategy.
"Still standing? Impressive."
Kyle's breath came in short, shaky gasps. His arms trembled from exhaustion.
Sweat dripped from his chin, soaking into the already damp fabric of his combat suit. His grip on the wooden tachi had loosened.
But he didn't let go.
Across from him. Anastasia stood in the exact same spot.
Completely untouched, her breathing steady. She wasn't even sweating.
"You're improving," she said, calmly knocking away an overhead strike without even glancing. "But you're thinking too much."
Kyle feinted left, then tried to dart right. Hoping to catch her off-guard.
Her sword moved with practiced ease. Tapping his wrist before he could even complete the motion.
"Predictable," she said with a small smirk.
Kyle stepped back, trying to steady his breathing.
Anastasia wasn't just stronger, she was better. Way better. But still… he didn't want to walk away without trying something. Anything.
He shifted his stance and began to circle her, slowly, eyes searching for a gap in her defense.
She didn't react. Her sword stayed resting on her shoulder. Her body loose and relaxed, was all just a warm-up.
Kyle lunged forward suddenly, not at her. But at the ground just in front of her, kicking up a burst of dust.
It was a desperate move. A dirty trick, even. But if it worked…
Anastasia didn't flinch. Her sword flicked out like a flash of lightning. Batting his tachi aside with a loud smack.
Then, before he could step back—
The sharp sound of wood smacking against skull echoed through the quiet training hall like a bell.
"Okay, that's enough for today,"
His eyes blinked in surprise, and for a moment, everything went still.
Then he took a step back, rubbing the top of his head with a wince.
His face flushed. Not from pain.
But from the pure embarrassment of being tapped like a scolded child. It wasn't a hard hit. It didn't need to be.
Anastasia lowered her practice sword. Her crimson eyes studied him for a moment. Unreadable.
Then she said, calm and clear, "You did really good."
Kyle looked up fast, surprised. Was that... praise?
"You listened. You adapted. You actually followed my instructions mid-fight." Her voice was even, almost thoughtful.
"Your form is clean. Your footwork's solid. And your reactions? Sharp."
She paused. A faint smile tugged at her lips, not mocking. Almost proud.
"It's just..." Her eyes gleamed as her smile widened.
"You were up against me."
She didn't say it to gloat. She said it like stating a fact. Like saying water was wet or the sun was hot. There was no bragging in her tone. Only truth.
But what really surprised Kyle was what came next.
She smiled. A real one.
It wasn't the cocky grin she wore during the fight. This one was softer. Warmer. Just a hint of pride mixed in.
Like a teacher watching a student take their first real step forward.
Kyle didn't know what to say.
Before he could even think of a reply. She turned away.
"Alright!" she called to the rest of the class. "Who's next?"
The other students groaned and looked anywhere but at her. No one wanted to be picked.
A few even pretended to tie their boots or drink water. Anything to avoid eye contact.
Anastasia's gaze swept over the group slowly… then landed on one person.
Her voice was lighter now, teasing. "Show me how much you've improved since coming here."
All eyes turned to Eleanora.
She stood stiffly near the edge of the training circle. Her hands were curled at her sides, jaw tight.
But after a few seconds. She let out a small breath, then stepped forward.
Kyle limped back to where Luna, Reo, and Cassian sat.
Cassian let out a low whistle as Kyle dropped down beside them.
"Damn," he muttered with a grin. "She toyed with you."
Luna didn't even look at him. She elbowed him in the ribs.
"Shut up," she hissed. "He lasted longer than you would've."
Then she turned to Kyle and gave him a kind smile. "You really did good. Don't let that get to you."
Kyle gave a tired sigh and ran a hand through his soaked hair. "I'm not."
Cassian jerked his chin toward the sparring ring. "Looks like it's Eleanora's turn to get humbled."
But Kyle wasn't listening.
His eyes stayed locked on Anastasia.
Eleanora stepped into the circle.
She picked up a wooden Estoc from the rack, holding it. Her grip was tight. Maybe too tight.
Her arms were stiff. She raised the blade into a ready stance. But Kyle could see the slight tremble in her fingers.
Anastasia didn't change her posture. She stood tall. Her practice sword resting lightly across her shoulders.
Her expression changed, though. That soft, proud smile was gone. Now it was sharp again. Focused.
"Come on, Ellie," she said, her tone low but clear. "Show me what you've got."