Chapter Sixty-Three: Preparations Before Battle

"Block! Left! Block! Right! Down! Another parry! Watch your footing! Don’t just retreat blindly! Use your steps! Yes! Again!"
With each deep, resonant instruction from Kevin, he raised his wooden hammer and launched attack after attack at Shaya. Shaya held a wooden axe, its handle extended to over a meter long.
Shaya braced himself, parrying Kevin’s strikes one after another. Kevin’s attacks weren't particularly fast; both men had restrained their strength. This training had lasted several hours already, and Shaya’s black hair was drenched in sweat, strands plastered to his forehead. Kevin was panting, his bald head glistening with perspiration.
The two moved back and forth, one attacking, the other defending, their wooden weapons clashing repeatedly. At last, Kevin suddenly lunged forward, lowering his body in a crouch, and struck Shaya’s thigh with his hammer. Then, with an upward flick, he sent Shaya’s axe flying!
"Stop!" Kevin exhaled and signaled Shaya to retrieve his axe. The bald man looked at Shaya, his face flushed from exertion, catching his breath and managing a wry smile. "Very good. You blocked twenty-seven of my attacks this time. I only hit you three times."
A chorus of whistles and cheers erupted nearby. More than a dozen soldiers had gathered to watch, with the sly Kato whistling the loudest. He clapped and laughed, "Well done, Shaya! Beautiful work!" Then, grinning, Kato held out his hand to his companions, "Pay up, pay up! Come on, no cheating!"
The guards laughed and cursed, digging out various copper coins and silver pieces.
"Kevin, did you skip breakfast? You hit like a pillow! Lost me money again!"
"Shaya, you’re not even human! I’m charging what I lost to your account! Ha! Next payday, you owe us all drinks!"
This training had gone on for three days now.
During the last scouting mission, Shaya had demonstrated formidable combat power, earning Kevin’s admiration. Sharing a tent, they sparred whenever time allowed. Kevin soon discovered a major flaw in Shaya: when fighting, he relied entirely on brute strength and his exceptional physique to overwhelm opponents—his martial technique was, in a word, chaotic!
Of course, ‘chaotic’ didn’t mean Shaya’s skills were terrible—quite the opposite. His attacks were ferocious; especially his ‘Woodcutter’s Axe Method’ was so unpredictable that even Kevin’s considerable skill couldn’t withstand it. The moves, ostensibly simple axe strikes, became ethereal and elusive in Shaya’s hands. Even as a first-level intermediate warrior, Kevin was unable to parry several of Shaya’s blows.
Shaya, not a fool, realized the old man’s ‘Slaughtering Thousands’ technique was indeed an extraordinary axe art.
But compared to his offensive prowess, Shaya’s defense was abysmal!
He couldn’t be blamed, for the old man had never systematically taught him martial arts—the ‘Slaughtering Thousands’ had been imparted through everyday chores like chopping wood and shoveling coal. As for defensive skills, Shaya had never practiced any.
Facing enemies, he relied on his robust physique and quick reflexes honed from wrestling wild beasts in the mountains—instinctive reactions only, without any systematic understanding of defense.
Only knowing how to attack without defending meant he could not survive long on the battlefield—Kevin had no idea Shaya’s body had been strengthened by dragon blood. Even so, the dragon's power was not omnipotent; against an intermediate opponent wielding battle energy, Shaya’s defenses could be breached!
Thus, his lack of defensive technique became Shaya’s greatest weakness. Against ordinary foes, he could manage, but when facing formidable adversaries, he would be in peril. He knew well that, during the encounter with the Night Guards, had the old man’s magic crystal not suddenly unleashed its power, he would now be nothing but bones scattered across Wildfire Plain.
Kevin enthusiastically began teaching Shaya basic combat skills, focusing especially on defensive maneuvers. Their practice was without battle energy or real force—purely technique.
At first, if Shaya didn't use his brute strength, Kevin could disarm him within two or three moves, quickly striking vital points. The first day, Shaya was thoroughly thrashed, left with lumps all over his head—prompting laughter from the watching guards, as the entire session was simply Kevin beating Shaya one-sidedly.
That night, the country bumpkin barely slept, his mind replaying Kevin’s attacks and the defensive techniques explained to him. By dawn, when Kevin awoke, he found Shaya sitting on his bunk, eyes bloodshot and dazed.
On the second day, Shaya made great progress, managing to withstand over ten moves before being struck. This immediately attracted the other guards: some volunteered as referees, others started betting on how long the rookie could last against Kevin’s attacks.
Though mocked, Shaya knew the jests were friendly—filled with camaraderie, a sign that he was being accepted by the group.
After the scouting mission, Kevin made no secret of Shaya saving his life, and, being forthright, openly acknowledged Shaya. With the respected Kevin’s help, Shaya was quickly accepted by the guards, and his bold personality fit well in the military environment.
On the second day’s final round, not only did Shaya block all of Kevin’s attacks, but he managed to hit Kevin once in return—not a vital spot, but enough to astonish everyone, who now realized this kid truly had something.
By the third day, even more had gathered to watch. Eventually, some of the more skilled guards volunteered to take turns sparring with Shaya—according to Kato, it was a chance for them to freely thrash the rookie.
"You’re too tense, paying too much attention to your steps and neglecting your hands. You need to make these movements instinctive—if you have to think before acting, you’ll inevitably be slow," Kevin explained earnestly.
"Alright, Kevin, you must have failed to disarm Shaya as planned and now you’re embarrassed, haha!" laughed a burly man nearby.
"Sharba, shut up," Kevin retorted with a smile. "If you’re so tough, try sparring with Shaya yourself!"
"Me? No way! I’ve no interest in wrestling with a wild bull." The big man stroked his chin—this was Sharba, another member of the guard. Before Shaya arrived, he had been the acknowledged strongman of the group, but after a fair wrestling match with Shaya the previous night, in which he nearly broke several bones, he conceded defeat.
When it came to strength, this human was no match for that monster.
After three days, Shaya had become well-acquainted with most of the guards, thanks in large part to Kevin.
※※※
Though forbidden from using brute force, by the end of each day Shaya was exhausted, sweat soaking his clothes, as if he had been fished out of a river.
Seeing the bumpkin return to the tent, Doro secretly wished he’d been beaten black and blue. Yet, he quickly put on a respectful smile and greeted him, "Master Shaya, you’re back..."
Shaya tossed the wooden axe to Kevin—though made of wood, its heft nearly flattened Doro as he barely managed to catch it, stumbling after Shaya.
"Fetch water, I need a bath... And, were the horses fed? I’m on patrol tonight... Don’t forget to polish my armor." Shaya flopped onto his bunk, feeling as if his bones might fall apart from fatigue.
Doro scurried out, grumbling inwardly, grabbing a brush from the corner and hauling out a heavy set of light cavalry armor. He carefully scrubbed off the dust, then meticulously applied oil to the joints. The poor mage, covered in grime and sweat, cursed his unfair fate under his breath.