In another area of Saint-Noel Academy, two princes occupied the training grounds.
“But fishing, huh? There really is no predicting what Mia will think up next,” Sion Sol Sunkland, holding a wooden training blade, muttered in amusement. “She says she’s trying to win over Princess Orania, but I’m sure she has some other goal in mind as well.”
Abel nodded. “She always does. Mia always thinks on multiple levels, and all we see is the surface. I had a chance to chat with Sir Dion, Sir Ludwig, and some of her Princess Guard while I was in Tearmoon, and really...her drive and creativity are astounding,” he said, picking up a training sword in one hand and a round shield in the other.
“You must be talking about what happened after the cooking party at Marquess Schubert’s residence. I heard you visited the former Clausius Domain, and while I’m quite interested to hear what happened there, there’s something else that’s currently caught my attention.” Sion glanced at Abel. “A shield? I’m shocked,” he said, slightly furrowing his brow. “I always thought what defined your style of swordsmanship was preemptive strikes that overwhelm your opponent.” The first stance of Remno swordsmanship—a swift strike from above—was what Sion always considered Abel Remno’s greatest weapon. “I thought you knew as much yourself.”
“Of course I do, and I know a single strike completely focused in both body and soul is what best suits my style too.” Abel put on a wry grin. “But I’ve begun to think about my goals lately. There’s something both charming and awe-inspiring about a swordsman who rushes headfirst into his enemies, but my wish to protect and support Mia is even greater. That’s the kind of sword I’m after.”
The sword he sought was not one that rashly rushed in to cut away his enemies, but one that outlasted—he’d protect Mia and walk forward together.
“I see. If that’s the answer you’ve reached, then I respect it,” said Sion, gripping his sword. He held his blade not in the usual low position, but the middle, the tip trained on his opponent. “I’ll help you achieve that goal as a friend,” he said, grinning.
Abel was the one who’d requested this match. While Dion had promised to train him the next time he returned to Tearmoon... I can’t just ask him to spar with me when I’ve never practiced fighting with a shield before. Thus, he had enlisted Sion’s help.
“Let’s see how this goes...” muttered Abel as he readied himself for battle. He stuck out his left hand—which held his shield—and rested the sword in his right on his shoulder. This stance had a specific purpose; he’d block his opponent’s strike with his shield and overwhelm him with an overhand swing of his sword.
Sion relaxed his expression. “To be honest, I was always jealous of you, Abel.”
“Huh?”
“Your sword was one of pure offense, free of any thoughts of what would happen next. I always wished I could fight like that myself,” he said. Then, he took a forceful step forward as he swung down his blade in a blur.
Abel managed to block with his shield, but the force caused him to groan. Have his attacks grown stronger? Or maybe this is just the force a genius can manage when he’s completely focused.
Abel spun around and slipped past Sion to stand at his back. At the same time, Sion continued in the direction of his momentum. In the end, the two boys had switched places, and Abel watched as Sion resumed his stance.
Sion furrowed his brow. “You’ve let your guard down because of that shield. While it provides protection, it won’t help you if you don’t stay focused.”
“I see you like to hit where it hurts,” said Abel as he lifted his right elbow. His shield remained in place, but he repositioned his blade to rest on his shield, ready to thrust at his opponent. It’s hard to force Sion on the defensive. I need to block his attacks, minimize my movements, and wait for a chance to counterattack.
“Here I go!” announced Sion, rushing forward. Was he going for the same downward swing, or a slash from the side? Abel focused on his shield, ready to respond to any attack his opponent could throw at him.
But then, he was hit with a sudden impact, forcing the breath out of his throat. Sion had thrust his blade right into the center of Abel’s shield.
“See? You’re letting your guard down. You weren’t even worried about this strike.”
Sion was a master swordsman, and the force and velocity of his thrust had far exceeded Abel’s expectations. The shock waves that traveled up his shield overwhelmed him.
“Your opponent might go for your shield if he can’t reach you, but you’ll break your arm if you can’t dampen the force of those strikes.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They took up their stances once again. Third time’s the charm, and this time, Abel was certain he’d be able to block his opponent and counterattack. But then, Sion rushed at him once again, completely crushing that resolve.
Sion lifted his blade into the air, readying for the same downward swing from earlier. Abel lifted his shield to block the attack but...Sion disappeared!
“Huh?!”
“And of course, your enemy might rush past your shield and try to get a direct hit on you as well,” said Sion, lowering his hips. In desperation, Abel tried to block his strike with his own blade, but...
“You won’t be able to block this with one hand.” Sion thrust his blade upward. A clang reverberated through the hall, but losing his sword wouldn’t stop Abel. He slammed his shield into Sion, hitting his shoulder and prompting him to retreat.
Sion was so impressed he couldn’t help but laugh. “That’ll give you the advantage! So, if you lose your sword, you’ll keep fighting with your shield... I can almost see a shadow of Remno’s Adamantine Spear.”
“I’m grateful, but it’s a shame to be compared to a man so strong,” said Abel with an awkward laugh as he picked up his blade.
Their sparring match continued for another hour, but in the end, Abel wasn’t able to land a single hit on Sion.
“A shield can prove an advantage, but it makes things more difficult as well. Having to divide your attention between your sword and shield requires finesse. You’ve got a long road ahead of you,” surmised Sion.
Abel shrugged. “I don’t mind that. I’ve been stuck at the first stance for so long. It’s about time I took a step forward. I’ll just need to go slow and steady.”
“I see you’ve already steeled your resolve. Well, as your friend, I suppose I don’t mind doing what I can to make that journey faster,” quipped Sion.
Abel responded with a joke of his own. “Really? I’m not going to go easy on you during the next swordsmanship tournament just because you were willing to help me.”
“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, Abel Remno, but you should keep that sort of talk to yourself until you learn to properly block me.”
Thus, the two princes continued their training.
And a certain princess happened to catch sight of them. “Whoa... Another fight between the Libra King and Grandpa Abel!” said Bel, oohing and aahing at the action. Not that this particularly mattered.