** Two days before the challenge
The humid air of the training room clung to my skin as I moved at high speed, navigating through the obstacles of the mobility course. This section of the training was designed to simulate difficult natural terrains: tall, twisted trees, moss, uneven rocks, wet soil, and fallen leaves. Each step required precision and control, and I pushed myself to maintain the pace, using my warrior abilities to advance toward the finish line.
It was then that the metallic sound of a dagger cutting through the air alerted me. I dodged to the side, feeling the cold blade graze my neck.
"Faster!" Lesley's sharp, firm voice echoed through the room.
She was somewhere in the shadows, invisible and unpredictable. Her footsteps made no sound, and I could barely distinguish her from the trees around me. Another dagger appeared, this time from above. I rolled forward, feeling the impact of the blade embedding itself into the ground behind me. My heart raced, but I forced myself to take a deep breath and focus.
In a burst of internal energy, I accelerated my steps again. The sound of my movements echoed like thunder, too loud, announcing my position.
"If your goal is to announce your arrival wherever you go, you're succeeding!" Lesley corrected me, her voice cutting.
Balancing the energy flowing through my veins, I slowed down, trying to reduce the noise my footsteps made. I leaped over a large rock and, with a quick kick, launched myself to the top. A small trail between the trees separated me from the finish line.
'The energy must explode within the muscles, but in the feet, it must be controlled!' I repeated mentally, trying to find the speed and smoothness Lesley had shown me earlier.
I was far from reaching my top speed, but that wasn't the goal here. The challenge was to move as quickly and stealthily as possible. Taking advantage of the shadows of the trees, I quickly slipped along the edge of the path. Whenever my feet landed on a rock, I sent a small flow of prana and mana to my lower limbs, trying to regulate the impact of my steps.
"Agh..." I groaned as a dagger pierced my arm from behind.
I increased my speed slowly, trying to find the balance between running and making no noise. When I finally reached the end of the course, Lesley was staring at me with a stern look. Knowing what was coming, I threw myself onto the ground, arms spread, panting and with my heart racing.
This training was physically lighter than any other in the body training sections, but it was the most exhausting in terms of mental focus and energy control.
"Still below reasonable," she began her lecture. "Your steps are inconsistent, and although your energy control has improved a lot, the synchronization between internal energy and noise suppression with prana in your legs is still terrible."
"Yes, master!" I exclaimed in acceptance.
"There are moments when you step first and muffle the sound afterward, sometimes you muffle before stepping, and on rare occasions, you actually manage to suppress the noise of your steps with energy."
"It's very difficult to harmonize the flow of internal energy in the lower limbs at the different speeds we use in the course," I argued.
"You're still too analytical. This isn't a practice you should be overthinking in this training. Here, you should be using your djinn traits to the fullest, letting your instincts guide you."
"Alright, let's move to the weapon combat section," Lesley didn't wait for me to get up and headed toward the sparring area.
I had been training with the two types of swords selected by Lesley for five days, and the results were impressive.
On the first day, my body struggled with the weight of the weapons, the way to move, how to react, the range, and how to harmonize agility and power. But a few hours were enough for me to understand why these weapons had been chosen.
One fact I didn't know was that Lesley was a combatant known as a master of weapons. Since her childhood, her family had trained her in various combat arts, and she was impressive.
Our swords clashed with an impact that reverberated through my arms, reaching a stalemate. I planted both feet firmly on the ground, feeling the rough texture of the soil under the soles of my boots, and pushed my Great Sword downward with a muffled grunt.
The wide, heavy blade trembled under the pressure, but the difference in initiative clearly favored me. Lesley, holding her lighter longsword, didn't have the same weight to sustain the clash. Her muscles tensed as she resisted, but she soon gave in, taking a step back to relieve the pressure.
Seizing the moment, I advanced with a firm step, holding the Great Sword with only my right hand. The heavy blade seemed to almost float in my hand, as if the momentum of the movement carried it on its own. With a quick, precise horizontal slash, I directed the blade toward her torso, the air hissing as it was cut by the sword's edge.
Lesley, however, was as quick as a shadow. Her eyes narrowed, and with a fluid motion, she dodged to the right, letting my blade cut only air. Before I could regain my balance, she had already counterattacked. Her sword shone like lightning, a barrage of high-speed thrusts that seemed to come from all directions at once. Each strike was precise, deadly, and I could barely keep up with the frenetic pace.
My heart raced, but there was no time to hesitate.
Instinctively, I pulled my sword back close to my body, using the flat side of the blade as an improvised shield. The sound of metal against metal echoed through the training room, each collision sending small sparks that briefly illuminated the space between us. The force of her strikes pushed me back, but I maintained my stance, feet firmly planted, knees bent to absorb the impact.
She was relentless, and I knew I couldn't stay on the defensive forever. The moment there was the slightest pause in her attack sequence, I seized the opportunity. With a fluid motion, I spun my body, pivoting on my left foot and launching a powerful spinning strike toward her shoulders. The sword cut through the air with a roar, the centrifugal force adding weight and speed to the blow.
Lesley, however, was no ordinary opponent. Her reflexes were as sharp as the blade she wielded. She leaned at an impossible angle as the sword passed over her, cutting only air once again. Before I could finish the movement, she was already back in position, a sly smile on her lips.
"You're improving," she admitted, though her posture remained impeccable. Her hair hadn't even been ruffled.
She advanced again, this time with a more calculated attack. Her sword gleamed in a perfect arc, aimed at my flank. I blocked with the middle part of my blade, but she quickly changed the angle, aiming for my leg. I jumped back, feeling the wind of the strike pass dangerously close.
The exchange continued, with her pushing me to a new limit every second. In a final exchange, our movements intertwined, a deadly dance of steel and technique. The training room seemed to disappear around us, the world reduced to the sound of my labored breathing and the gleam of our blades.
Finally, after a long period of combat, our swords locked in a stalemate. This time, however, neither of us yielded. Our eyes met, and for a moment, there was a respectful silence. We both knew I hadn't lost this round. It was a draw, proof that my efforts were paying off.
A draw with Lesley was like ten victories for me, who still left the body training room with countless bruises and broken bones.
"Very well, we'll meet again in your combat training this afternoon!" she said, leaving the hall.
"Phew... just thinking that I'll still have to face her using only magic, my happiness diminishes," I murmured as I prepared for the next challenge.