Chapter 63: Ch63 – One Mistake. Never Two.

Arena Three was massive. It sat at the eastern edge of the training grounds, carved into a small hill like an amphitheatre cut from stone.

Ryan climbed the steps leading up to the entrance, his legs protesting with every stride. The archway ahead was wide, flanked by carved pillars that mimicked the jagged peaks of mountains. Beyond it, the arena opened into a broad semi-circular space, the floor packed dirt worn smooth by years of use.

Tiered seating rose along the curved walls, empty now but built to hold hundreds. The stone benches were rough, deliberately unpolished, echoing the natural rock of the mountains. Torches lined the upper tiers, unlit in the daylight but ready for evening sessions.

The floor itself was divided into sections. Painted lines marked out smaller sparring circles, each one large enough for two fighters to move freely without interfering with the pairs beside them. There were maybe forty circles in total, spread across the arena floor.

Students were already gathering, milling near the weapon racks that lined the far wall. Wooden swords, spears, axes, staffs, daggers. All blunted, all designed for training, but Ryan had no doubt they’d still hurt.

An instructor stood near the centre of the arena. Different from the others. Younger, maybe in his thirties but Ryan couldn’t tell anymore with the revelation of how old Gregory was. The instructor had a scar running down his left cheek and a light build. He wore a knight’s uniform, practical and worn, a wooden sword strapped to his belt.

He raised his voice, cutting through the noise. “Choose your partners. You have two minutes.”

The students moved immediately, pairing off, some with friends, others with rivals.

Ryan quickly turned to James. “Will you spar with me?”

James raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Please go easy,” Ryan said quickly. “I’m new to this.”

James grinned. “I’ll try not to break you.”

Jared sulked off, sad that he couldn’t fight his brother. Though it didn’t take long before Jared paired with another student, a stocky boy with a shaved head who looked like he could break wood with his bare hands.

Ryan and James went to the weapon racks.

“What do you want?” James asked.

Ryan scanned the options. Swords. Spears. Axes. I have no idea how to use any of these properly.

“Sword,” he said finally. It seemed the most straightforward.

James nodded and grabbed two wooden swords, handing one to Ryan.

The weight surprised him. It was lighter than he’d expected, but still solid, the wood smooth in his hands.

They moved to one of the empty sparring circles near the centre of the arena, stepping inside the painted boundary.

James took a stance, feet apart, knees slightly bent, sword held low and ready.

Ryan tried to copy him.

“Relax your shoulders,” James said. “You’re too stiff.”

Ryan loosened slightly.

“Good. Now, when I come at you, try to block. Don’t think. Just react.”

Ryan nodded, gripping the sword tighter.

James moved.

Not fast. Not aggressive. Just a simple overhead swing, slow enough to see coming.

Ryan raised his sword to block.

The wooden blades met with a sharp crack, and the impact jolted through Ryan’s arms. His grip loosened, and the sword nearly slipped from his hands.

James stepped back. “You’re holding it too tight at the base. Loosen your bottom hand, tighten your top. It gives you more control.”

Ryan adjusted his grip and nodded.

James came again. Another overhead strike.

This time, Ryan blocked properly. The impact was still jarring, but his sword didn’t slip.

“Better,” James said. “Again.”

They repeated the drill. Block. Reset. Block. Reset.

Then James switched it up, swinging from the side instead.

Ryan tried to block, but his sword was too high. James’s blade slipped past and tapped him on the ribs.

“Keep your guard lower when I swing from the side,” James said.

Ryan nodded, breathing harder now.

They went again.

This time, Ryan blocked it.

James smiled. “You’re a fast learner.”

The sparring continued. James varied his attacks, testing Ryan’s reactions. High. Low. Left. Right. Ryan failed more often than he succeeded, but each time, he adjusted. Each mistake only happened once.

James noticed.

“You’re picking this up quickly,” he said, breathing slightly harder now. “Most people need a couple weeks before they stop flailing.”

Ryan wiped sweat from his forehead. “I’m still losing.”

“Yeah, but what do you expect, I’ve trained for over a decade.” James reset his stance. “You’ve trained for over five minutes.”

A shadow fell across the circle.

Ryan glanced up.

The instructor stood at the edge, arms crossed, watching them.

“Don’t stop on my account,” the instructor said, gesturing them to continue.

James nodded and swung again.

Ryan blocked, but his footwork was off, and he stumbled slightly.

The instructor stepped into the circle. “Hold.”

James lowered his sword immediately.

The instructor looked at James first. “Excellent form. Very strong. You’ve trained with swords for a while.”

James nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The instructor’s gaze shifted to Ryan. “You’re… struggling.”

Ryan’s face flushed. “Yes, sir.”

The instructor stepped closer, studying Ryan’s stance. “Your weight’s too far forwards. You’re leaning into every block, which throws you off balance.”

He tapped Ryan’s lead foot with his own wooden sword. “Step back slightly. Distribute your weight evenly. Fifty-fifty between both feet.”

Ryan adjusted.

“Better,” the instructor said. “Now raise your sword. Not that high. Chest level. You want it ready to move in any direction, not committed to one.”

Ryan lowered the blade slightly.

The instructor nodded. “Try again.”

He stepped back, gesturing to James.

James came at Ryan with another swing.

This time, Ryan’s block was cleaner. His balance held. His sword stayed firm.

The instructor nodded once. “Keep practising.”

He walked away, moving to the next sparring circle.

James grinned and said out loud, “You’re improving at the speed a hero would!”

Ryan snorted. “Right. And I suppose next you’ll tell me I’ve got divine power given to me by a spirit, flowing through my veins.”

James laughed. “At this rate? Maybe.”

“Well, if the gods are watching,” Ryan said, raising his wooden sword dramatically, “they’re probably wondering why they bothered.”

James shook his head, grinning. “Alright, alright. Less talking, more blocking.”

They continued sparring, the rhythm settling into something steady. Block. Counter. Reset. Block. Counter. Reset.

Ryan’s movements became smoother. Not good. Not even close. But better.

By the time the instructor called time, Ryan’s entire body was trembling with exhaustion. His arms felt like lead, his legs barely holding him upright.

“That’s it for today,” the instructor called. “Put the weapons back. Dismissed.”

Ryan lowered his sword, breathing hard.

James clapped him on the shoulder. “Not bad for your first session.”

Ryan managed a weak smile. “Thanks for going easy.”

“I wasn’t going that easy,” James said with a grin.

Jared appeared beside them, his sparring partner trailing behind, Jared looked in tip top shape. His sparring partner, on the other hand, was completely battered but still wore a grin.

“How’d it go?” Jared asked.

“Ryan didn’t pass out,” James said. “I’m calling it a win.”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

They returned the wooden swords to the racks and headed towards the arena exit.

James stretched his arms above his head. “We’re heading back to the dorm. You coming?”

Ryan nodded. “I’m going to the dining hall. I’m starving.”

James shrugged. “Fair enough. See you later.”

They headed off towards the dormitories, leaving Ryan standing alone at the edge of the training grounds.

He glanced at the clock in the training grounds. Ten o’clock. His next class was at half past eleven, but he couldn’t remember which one or where it was. He’d left his schedule back in the dorm.

Ryan sighed.

He also needed a bath. Badly. And he needed to change into his mage robes before the afternoon sessions. Then he also needed to ask Eleanor what was up with that second mana he noticed, and whether she lied about it or not.

But first, food.

His stomach growled loudly in agreement.

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