novelraw Chapter 65: Learning from the Skilled
Chapter 65: Learning from the Skilled
Back at the farm, Leon tossed the groceries he had bought into the fridge, then pulled out the straight sword Clint had given him and started fiddling with it in the yard.
Liking cold weapons was one thing;knowing how to use them was another. While Leon could manage basic thrusts, sweeps, flicks, and chops, he wasn’t sure he could choose the right attack for the situation in a real fight.
Still, even if he knew nothing about practical swordsmanship, that didn’t stop him from having fun. If there had been a field of canola flowers nearby, he’d be having an even better time.
Of course, it wasn’t just playing. He was building up his feel for the weapon, making sure that in dangerous moments, when he pulled a weapon from his backpack, he wouldn’t be fumbling with it.
Just as Leon was swinging the sword in the air, practicing the so-called “wild slashes” from urban legends, a teasing voice came from beside him.
“Practicing swordplay? Your stance looks awful.”
“Oh, Abigail, what brings you here?” Leon stopped immediately, reversing the sword to hide it behind him as he turned to see her crouching a short distance away.
“I’m here to scrounge some food,” Abigail said matter-of-factly.
“At this hour? You skipped lunch?” Leon glanced up at the sun still high overhead, baffled.
“Of course I mean dinner.”She stood and walked to his side, then circled behind him, peering at the sword. “Wow, it’s a real sharpened blade! I thought it was just a practice prop.”
“Interested?” Leon handed the sword to her. “Want to give it a try?”
Abigail accepted without hesitation, grasping the hilt enthusiastically. Their hands brushed when she took it—Leon hadn’t yet let go—but she didn’t seem to care. Once her grip was firm, he released it.
“Whew, it’s heavier than I thought.”
She tried holding it one-handed like Leon, but the sword was iron, unusually long, and naturally heavy. Caught off guard, she almost lost her grip. Once she adjusted, though, she brought the blade across her chest and, right in front of Leon, unleashed a crisp set of strikes. Chop, sweep, thrust—three moves in one fluid sequence, the air whistling as the sword cut through it.
This girl’s got skill.
“How was that? Not bad, right?” Abigail grinned smugly. “Looks a lot more intimidating than your technique, doesn’t it?”
“Not bad. Got any other moves? Show me.” Leon wasn’t annoyed by her teasing. Her strikes had structure, and he was curious just how much she knew.
“That’s all I’ve got. Learned it from a book. It says if you practice this one set enough, it’ll handle most common monsters.” She shook her head.
“Just one move?”
Leon replayed her form in his mind. It looked simple, but her attacks were sharp and fast, the movements flowing from one to the next. Even after a thrust, she could loop back into the sequence for a second wave of offense.
His eyes lit up. Stepping forward, he grabbed her arm. “Can you teach me? How to put power into it, how to pull back? I want to learn.”
“Heh, sure… but you have to call me ‘Teacher.’” Abigail grinned, taking the chance to get the upper hand.
“Teacher Abigail,” Leon replied without hesitation. After all, if someone’s skilled, they’re a teacher. You can always learn from others.
Besides, calling her ‘Teacher’ cost him nothing, and the payoff was far greater than the effort.
Abigail was clearly pleased by the title, smiling non-stop as she began to demonstrate the set in slow motion—twice—explaining details she’d discovered through practice: stance, wrist rotation, footwork.
Once the theory was clear, she handed the sword back. Leon practiced while she observed, correcting his mistakes and pointing out flaws in his form.
Leon didn’t mind the critiques. He followed her advice step by step, polishing his movements. Sure enough, with her pointers, his attacks became faster and more fluid.
Grateful for the progress, Leon showered Abigail with praise—“Teacher Abigail, your guidance is amazing”—making her beam with pride and throw herself fully into teaching. When she saw his movements still lacked coordination, she even stepped in for hands-on guidance.
Even with a will of steel, Leon couldn’t ignore the rush of heat from the close contact.
For Abigail, the realization came a moment later—she’d gotten too close. The warmth of his solid muscles, the faint scent of sweat, and the subtle undercurrent of masculine pheromones made a strange heat bloom inside her.
They both wordlessly agreed to keep some distance after that.
Abigail backed off two meters. Leon focused entirely on the sword and the techniques now etched into his mind. Silence filled the rest of the lesson.
Eventually, Leon’s wrist began to ache from overuse, muscles burning with the buildup of lactic acid. He stopped.
“Gotta rest. Otherwise, I won’t be able to lift my arm tomorrow.”
Wiping sweat from his brow, he headed inside for some water.
“Yeah, rest is important. I usually only practice for half an hour before I’m exhausted. Didn’t think you’d last this long,” Abigail admitted, now calm after her long time watching.
“Well, I am a farmer. Without stamina, how could I work the fields?” Leon joked, then asked, “Thanks, Abigail. I learned a lot this afternoon. What do you want for dinner? Name anything—I’ll cook. Or we can head to the Starfruit Saloon and have Gus make something.”
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