I reached out to place a calming hand on Nox as he burst outside with a furious growl. I motioned for the cat to remain ready, but not to act just yet. There was no telling what an undead would do once it broke free of my control.
My undead had very few real emotions. However, so long as their brain had not been seriously damaged at the time of their death, they retained their memories and by extension much of their personality. For an undead to wrench itself free as Sigmund had done, it usually had to be related to an action that was unthinkable to the person when they were alive. It was extremely rare for any undead to completely resist one of my commands but I had seen it before.
I had experimented with releasing undead from my control in the past. It very rarely ended well. With no sense of fear or concern for consequences, undead would often resort to violence to solve any problem they encountered. With no emotions like love or empathy, undead would even attack their own family without showing any remorse.
For now, Sigmund was walking back and forth, lecturing my family with his sword unsheathed. There had not been any violent outbursts yet but for a warrior like Sigmund, it was likely only a matter of time. I had to keep him calm until I could regain control. I could not let him hurt my family, no matter what.
Telling Nox to stay put for now, I moved forward cautiously. Sigmund completely disregarded my approach. His attention was completely focused on Donte right now. Words of admonishment echoed through the cool afternoon air.
“Your swordsmanship is a complete disharmonized mess,” Sigmund growled in a gruff voice as he pointed his sword at Donte, “You are too focused on flashy, advanced techniques without understanding any of the core concepts or foundations behind them. Your attempts to use movements you do not fully understand leaves you full of openings that can be exploited easily by anyone with any experience. It is clear your training was far too rushed. If you ever want to improve, you need to focus on training the basics. Start again from the ground up, then you will be able to use the more advanced movements correctly.”
I coughed in embarrassment as I realized that the problem Sigmund was talking about was my own fault. I sparred with Donte almost every single day before my recent injuries. I knew that Donte was trying to copy my movements but I never bothered to explain my reasoning behind those movements. Mix that with the very different style my dad taught Donte and it was no wonder the master swordsman thought it was appalling.
Apparently, Sigmund found Donte’s swordsmanship so terrible he broke free of my control just so that he could correct it. I could not help but feel some level of shame since I was the one who taught him. I was no master swordsman. I was well aware of that, but I still knew enough that I should have been the one to catch Donte’s flaw, not Sigmund.
After he finished admonishing Donte, Sigmund then turned towards my parents. “As for you two, your problem is actually the opposite. Your styles reek of the battlefield. Every movement is designed to conserve energy for long fights. Because of this, you never put your all into any single attack. This has become counterproductive when you could have bested your enemy in just one or two strikes, you instead need to spend ten or more. Swordsmanship is a living breathing extension of yourself. You must let it adapt to your circumstances. That rigid style may have been fine in an army, surrounded by enemies and allies, but against a single opponent, you need to change your approach.”
My dad looked down at the wooden sword in his hand and frowned. “I admit, I have felt out of my element against our recent opponents. I find myself relying more on glyphs than my sword these days.”
Sigmund nodded and rested his blade on his shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with using the talents available to you. However, a warrior must learn to incorporate all their skill if they are to become strong. Otherwise, the warrior will never reach their true potential.”
As Sigmund spoke, I walked up to stand next to my dad and Charlie. My mind was in a constant tug of war with the flames inside Sigmund. I had gotten ahold of a small strand of the power inside him, but no matter how much I tried to re-exert my control over the man, Sigmund’s will remained unmoving. It was as if I was trying to shove a mountain with my bare hands.
Donte saw me approach and gave me a big smile. “This is so cool, Wren! I did not know your undead could teach.”
I nodded in reply as I glared at the undead. Quiet enough to almost be unperceivable, I whispered under my breath. “Mare, if you can hear me, tell Donte this undead is no longer under my control. We need to keep him talking until I can regain control. No matter what, do not antagonize him. I have no idea how powerful this Sigmund actually is.”
There was a slight pause as Donte’s eyes became unfocused and distant. A few moments later his vision cleared and he nodded at me with a grim expression. Donte then cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Excuse me, mister undead, you said I should start over from the beginning and focus on the basics of swordsmanship. How exactly should I do that?”
“Now that is a good question.” Sigmund replied as he spun back towards Donte, “The simplest answer is repetition. When I was young, I had a simple rule I followed for any technique I wanted to learn. Before using the technique in combat, I must first practice it one hundred thousand times.”
“One hundred thousand!” Donte exclaimed.
Sigmund swung his sword out in front of him without expression. “That is right, one hundred thousand times. Of course, you do not have to do all hundred thousand at once. Starting with a few hundred a day is plenty. However, every single time you swing your blade, you must give it your entire focus. A half-hearted swing is even worse than not practicing at all. If you truly want to master the blade, this is the determination you need. I suggest you start with a simple downwards cut. Once you finish training that one hundred thousand times switch to the basic side slash, then a simple thrust, and so on, until every single movement is carved into your very soul.”
As Sigmund lectured Donte, I began to circle around to his back. Trying to regain control from a distance was not working. I had to come into direct contact with the man in order to fully exert my strength.
At Donte’s insistence, Sigmund began to swing his sword, demonstrating each of the basic moments and explaining them in elaborate detail. Despite the circumstances, I could not help but marvel at the skill displayed in such simple movements. Svend had not been exaggerating when he said Sigmund was comparable to the top swordmen in the Divisions.
If I was still at my peak power, I would have drooled at the thought of getting such a skilled undead under my command. Given enough time to nurture, I could have made this undead into a true force to be reckoned with. Right now though, Sigmund was more of a liability than I was willing to risk. The moment I regained control I was going to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.
With slow, measured steps, I gradually got closer to Sigmund’s back. I had to be careful. If the man noticed me and thought I was a threat, there was little doubt he would turn his blade on me or worse, my family.
Just a step away, I began to reach out with my hand to connect with the flames inside the undead. Sigmund was still giving his lecture on the finer points of the blade and had not seemed to notice me yet. However, just as I was about to touch Sigmund, Donte’s eyes flickered towards me.
Sigmund moved in a blur I could barely even keep track of as he turned to face me. The cold steel of his sword rested only a hair's breadth from my neck. I never even had a chance to respond.
“How about you… my lady? I have not yet seen your skill with a blade. I can feel your power attempting to restrain me. Prove yourself to me in a duel and I will submit.”
I grimaced as I took a step back from the blade at my neck. “Do I have a choice? I would rather not fight you.”
“No. Either you fight me, or I cut you down right now. There is no third option.”
“Wren, what is going on?” My mom asked in concern.
Not taking my eyes off the blade pointed in my throat, I smiled at my mom and dad. They both had expressions of concern on their faces and looked ready to leap to my aid at a moment’s notice, even though they were only wielding wooden swords.
“It is ok,” I said as I drew my dagger from its scabbard on my waist, “It is just a small matter of dominance. I will be done in a moment.”
“You are rather confident,” Sigmund said. The deadpan expression on his face did not change, but for just a moment, I could swear I saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.
“Of course, I am,” I replied as I raised my dagger and lowered my body into a ready stance, “If I wanted, this could be over in an instant. However, I would rather not turn you into an ball of golden flames. It would be too much of a waste.”
Sigmund narrowed his eyes as he said nothing in reply. Silence fell across the floating island. The only sound was the slight flutter of my clothes in the wind.
Seconds seemed to drag on for an eternity as Sigmund and I stared at each other without blinking. I wanted to make the first strike, but I knew that would be a mistake. Sigmund was faster, stronger, and more skilled than me. If I wanted to win this duel, I had to be smart.
I felt the flames in Sigmund’s body move before he did. There was a blur of bright steel as his blade lunged towards my throat. Even with the early warning from inside Sigmund’s body, I still nearly failed to dodge in time. My head jerked to the side in a panic as Sigmund’s sword left a small scratch along my neck. Had I been even a fraction slower, that one strike would have been fatal.
I wanted to strike back at Sigmund at this moment but before I could even move my sword, I felt the flames in Sigmund’s body react again. Rather than pulling the blade back as I expected Sigmund instead sliced down in a continued attempt of slitting my throat.
After only a single move, I was already in checkmate. Sigmund’s blade was too close to dodge and too fast to block. In a contest of swords, he was leagues ahead of me but I was not ready to surrender just yet. Melee combat had never been my specialty.
Just as Sigmund was about the bring his blade across my neck, I erupted in an inferno of green flames. Sigmund was forced to either stop his attack or be consumed by the fire. He chose the former, leaping out of reach of my flames.
“You said a warrior should use every talent available to them. I hope you will not begrudge me using mine,” I said with a teasing smile.
“Of course not,” Sigmund replied as he raised his blade in my direction.
Not waiting for Sigmund to make the first attack this time, a spiral of green flames shot towards Sigmund. Waves of heat could be felt across the island. I could not help savoring the feeling of using my power in such a way after so long. It had only been a few days since I arrived at Kala, but thanks to the crystals Cyra had created, I was already several times stronger than when I arrived.
Sigmund easily sidestepped the torrent of flame but that was ok. I expected that. Instead of dissipating after hitting the ground behind Sigmund, the green flames began to pool together. Another ethereal flame flowed through my body and into the rock underground as Sigmund moved in a blur.
Sigmund closed the gap between the two of us in an instant. His sword raised overhead as he struck down. I wanted to leap backwards, out of range of the strike threatening to cut me in half but before I could, something strange happened to Sigmund’s sword.
For a brief moment, his blade seemed to appear in multiple places at once. It seemed to strike from every conceivable angle in an almost hypnotic pattern.
It was only thanks to a low growl from Nox that I shook myself free of the hypnotic effect. I stumbled back, not quite managing to dodge Sigmund’s blade as it tore through the front of my shirt and cut a long scar down my chest.
I could not stop myself from letting out a hiss as I tried to suppress the pain racking my body. The cut was almost deep enough to see my ribs. Had it not been for Nox I would have been split in half, unable to do anything.
I released another torrent of flames in an attempt to regain some distance between Sigmund and me. Once again, Sigmund easily leapt out of the way of the flames and closed in on me again. The flames soared past the man harmlessly before crashing into the ground.
Sigmund struck out with his blade again. This time, there was no hypnotic pattern. Instead, Sigmund’s blade suddenly seemed very heavy. It was as if a mountain was falling towards me instead of a single sword.
Unfortunately for Sigmund, this was a feeling I knew all too well. Remembering all the times I was forced to spar with Kora, the Blade Calamity, I easily sidestepped this attack. Compared to the weight her blade held all the time, Sigmund was still lacking.
As I moved past Sigmund, I left another pool of flames on the ground where I stood a moment before. Sigmund’s sword slammed into the ground with enough force to cause small tremors. It cracked and splintered the rock, almost forming a crater with that one sword strike.
Clutching the wound on my chest, I smiled at the swordsman. “Sorry Sigmund, but I win.”
Sigmund looked confused for a moment before glancing at the three pools of flames on the ground. All three had burned into a complicated geometric pattern. A faint blue flame rose up through the rock underground to join them.
There was no time for Sigmund to get away before the glyphs began to shine with a golden light. An explosion rocked the floating island, engulfing the swordsman in a wave of golden flames.
To my amazement, Sigmund did not submit to his fate at the hands of the golden flame. He somehow managed to strike down half the explosion with a swing of his sword that created a shockwave blowing it back. Fortunately, though, the remaining half of the explosion was enough.
Sigmund was thrown across the island. His flesh was torn and burned from the explosion to reveal a metal skeleton underneath. His arms and legs were both mangled into unnatural positions, and yet, Sigmund never released his grip on his blade.
The man struggled to move despite his body’s horrible condition. He managed to flip himself onto his back as I walked over.
I looked down at the man as I sheathed my dagger. “Do you submit?”
Sigmund chucked as green flames leaked out of his body in an effort to repair the damage done.
“I submit. From this day forth, I will serve you loyally.”
Marcus_Breeze
I love writing fights so much more than dialogue. It comes much easier to me and is a lot of fun. Not sure how well I convey everything going through my head, but practice makes perfect. Maybe one day I should write a martial arts novel… I have a lot of other stories I need to write first though.
As always, if you are enjoying the story, consider supporting it at Patreon to read chapters before their public release.
I reached out to place a calming hand on Nox as he burst outside with a furious growl. I motioned for the cat to remain ready, but not to act just yet. There was no telling what an undead would do once it broke free of my control.
My undead had very few real emotions. However, so long as their brain had not been seriously damaged at the time of their death, they retained their memories and by extension much of their personality. For an undead to wrench itself free as Sigmund had done, it usually had to be related to an action that was unthinkable to the person when they were alive. It was extremely rare for any undead to completely resist one of my commands but I had seen it before.
I had experimented with releasing undead from my control in the past. It very rarely ended well. With no sense of fear or concern for consequences, undead would often resort to violence to solve any problem they encountered. With no emotions like love or empathy, undead would even attack their own family without showing any remorse.
For now, Sigmund was walking back and forth, lecturing my family with his sword unsheathed. There had not been any violent outbursts yet but for a warrior like Sigmund, it was likely only a matter of time. I had to keep him calm until I could regain control. I could not let him hurt my family, no matter what.
Telling Nox to stay put for now, I moved forward cautiously. Sigmund completely disregarded my approach. His attention was completely focused on Donte right now. Words of admonishment echoed through the cool afternoon air.
“Your swordsmanship is a complete disharmonized mess,” Sigmund growled in a gruff voice as he pointed his sword at Donte, “You are too focused on flashy, advanced techniques without understanding any of the core concepts or foundations behind them. Your attempts to use movements you do not fully understand leaves you full of openings that can be exploited easily by anyone with any experience. It is clear your training was far too rushed. If you ever want to improve, you need to focus on training the basics. Start again from the ground up, then you will be able to use the more advanced movements correctly.”
I coughed in embarrassment as I realized that the problem Sigmund was talking about was my own fault. I sparred with Donte almost every single day before my recent injuries. I knew that Donte was trying to copy my movements but I never bothered to explain my reasoning behind those movements. Mix that with the very different style my dad taught Donte and it was no wonder the master swordsman thought it was appalling.
Apparently, Sigmund found Donte’s swordsmanship so terrible he broke free of my control just so that he could correct it. I could not help but feel some level of shame since I was the one who taught him. I was no master swordsman. I was well aware of that, but I still knew enough that I should have been the one to catch Donte’s flaw, not Sigmund.
After he finished admonishing Donte, Sigmund then turned towards my parents. “As for you two, your problem is actually the opposite. Your styles reek of the battlefield. Every movement is designed to conserve energy for long fights. Because of this, you never put your all into any single attack. This has become counterproductive when you could have bested your enemy in just one or two strikes, you instead need to spend ten or more. Swordsmanship is a living breathing extension of yourself. You must let it adapt to your circumstances. That rigid style may have been fine in an army, surrounded by enemies and allies, but against a single opponent, you need to change your approach.”
My dad looked down at the wooden sword in his hand and frowned. “I admit, I have felt out of my element against our recent opponents. I find myself relying more on glyphs than my sword these days.”
Sigmund nodded and rested his blade on his shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with using the talents available to you. However, a warrior must learn to incorporate all their skill if they are to become strong. Otherwise, the warrior will never reach their true potential.”
As Sigmund spoke, I walked up to stand next to my dad and Charlie. My mind was in a constant tug of war with the flames inside Sigmund. I had gotten ahold of a small strand of the power inside him, but no matter how much I tried to re-exert my control over the man, Sigmund’s will remained unmoving. It was as if I was trying to shove a mountain with my bare hands.
Donte saw me approach and gave me a big smile. “This is so cool, Wren! I did not know your undead could teach.”
I nodded in reply as I glared at the undead. Quiet enough to almost be unperceivable, I whispered under my breath. “Mare, if you can hear me, tell Donte this undead is no longer under my control. We need to keep him talking until I can regain control. No matter what, do not antagonize him. I have no idea how powerful this Sigmund actually is.”
There was a slight pause as Donte’s eyes became unfocused and distant. A few moments later his vision cleared and he nodded at me with a grim expression. Donte then cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Excuse me, mister undead, you said I should start over from the beginning and focus on the basics of swordsmanship. How exactly should I do that?”
“Now that is a good question.” Sigmund replied as he spun back towards Donte, “The simplest answer is repetition. When I was young, I had a simple rule I followed for any technique I wanted to learn. Before using the technique in combat, I must first practice it one hundred thousand times.”
“One hundred thousand!” Donte exclaimed.
Sigmund swung his sword out in front of him without expression. “That is right, one hundred thousand times. Of course, you do not have to do all hundred thousand at once. Starting with a few hundred a day is plenty. However, every single time you swing your blade, you must give it your entire focus. A half-hearted swing is even worse than not practicing at all. If you truly want to master the blade, this is the determination you need. I suggest you start with a simple downwards cut. Once you finish training that one hundred thousand times switch to the basic side slash, then a simple thrust, and so on, until every single movement is carved into your very soul.”
As Sigmund lectured Donte, I began to circle around to his back. Trying to regain control from a distance was not working. I had to come into direct contact with the man in order to fully exert my strength.
At Donte’s insistence, Sigmund began to swing his sword, demonstrating each of the basic moments and explaining them in elaborate detail. Despite the circumstances, I could not help but marvel at the skill displayed in such simple movements. Svend had not been exaggerating when he said Sigmund was comparable to the top swordmen in the Divisions.
If I was still at my peak power, I would have drooled at the thought of getting such a skilled undead under my command. Given enough time to nurture, I could have made this undead into a true force to be reckoned with. Right now though, Sigmund was more of a liability than I was willing to risk. The moment I regained control I was going to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.
With slow, measured steps, I gradually got closer to Sigmund’s back. I had to be careful. If the man noticed me and thought I was a threat, there was little doubt he would turn his blade on me or worse, my family.
Just a step away, I began to reach out with my hand to connect with the flames inside the undead. Sigmund was still giving his lecture on the finer points of the blade and had not seemed to notice me yet. However, just as I was about to touch Sigmund, Donte’s eyes flickered towards me.
Sigmund moved in a blur I could barely even keep track of as he turned to face me. The cold steel of his sword rested only a hair's breadth from my neck. I never even had a chance to respond.
“How about you… my lady? I have not yet seen your skill with a blade. I can feel your power attempting to restrain me. Prove yourself to me in a duel and I will submit.”
I grimaced as I took a step back from the blade at my neck. “Do I have a choice? I would rather not fight you.”
“No. Either you fight me, or I cut you down right now. There is no third option.”
“Wren, what is going on?” My mom asked in concern.
Not taking my eyes off the blade pointed in my throat, I smiled at my mom and dad. They both had expressions of concern on their faces and looked ready to leap to my aid at a moment’s notice, even though they were only wielding wooden swords.
“It is ok,” I said as I drew my dagger from its scabbard on my waist, “It is just a small matter of dominance. I will be done in a moment.”
“You are rather confident,” Sigmund said. The deadpan expression on his face did not change, but for just a moment, I could swear I saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.
“Of course, I am,” I replied as I raised my dagger and lowered my body into a ready stance, “If I wanted, this could be over in an instant. However, I would rather not turn you into an ball of golden flames. It would be too much of a waste.”
Sigmund narrowed his eyes as he said nothing in reply. Silence fell across the floating island. The only sound was the slight flutter of my clothes in the wind.
Seconds seemed to drag on for an eternity as Sigmund and I stared at each other without blinking. I wanted to make the first strike, but I knew that would be a mistake. Sigmund was faster, stronger, and more skilled than me. If I wanted to win this duel, I had to be smart.
I felt the flames in Sigmund’s body move before he did. There was a blur of bright steel as his blade lunged towards my throat. Even with the early warning from inside Sigmund’s body, I still nearly failed to dodge in time. My head jerked to the side in a panic as Sigmund’s sword left a small scratch along my neck. Had I been even a fraction slower, that one strike would have been fatal.
I wanted to strike back at Sigmund at this moment but before I could even move my sword, I felt the flames in Sigmund’s body react again. Rather than pulling the blade back as I expected Sigmund instead sliced down in a continued attempt of slitting my throat.
After only a single move, I was already in checkmate. Sigmund’s blade was too close to dodge and too fast to block. In a contest of swords, he was leagues ahead of me but I was not ready to surrender just yet. Melee combat had never been my specialty.
Just as Sigmund was about the bring his blade across my neck, I erupted in an inferno of green flames. Sigmund was forced to either stop his attack or be consumed by the fire. He chose the former, leaping out of reach of my flames.
“You said a warrior should use every talent available to them. I hope you will not begrudge me using mine,” I said with a teasing smile.
“Of course not,” Sigmund replied as he raised his blade in my direction.
Not waiting for Sigmund to make the first attack this time, a spiral of green flames shot towards Sigmund. Waves of heat could be felt across the island. I could not help savoring the feeling of using my power in such a way after so long. It had only been a few days since I arrived at Kala, but thanks to the crystals Cyra had created, I was already several times stronger than when I arrived.
Sigmund easily sidestepped the torrent of flame but that was ok. I expected that. Instead of dissipating after hitting the ground behind Sigmund, the green flames began to pool together. Another ethereal flame flowed through my body and into the rock underground as Sigmund moved in a blur.
Sigmund closed the gap between the two of us in an instant. His sword raised overhead as he struck down. I wanted to leap backwards, out of range of the strike threatening to cut me in half but before I could, something strange happened to Sigmund’s sword.
For a brief moment, his blade seemed to appear in multiple places at once. It seemed to strike from every conceivable angle in an almost hypnotic pattern.
It was only thanks to a low growl from Nox that I shook myself free of the hypnotic effect. I stumbled back, not quite managing to dodge Sigmund’s blade as it tore through the front of my shirt and cut a long scar down my chest.
I could not stop myself from letting out a hiss as I tried to suppress the pain racking my body. The cut was almost deep enough to see my ribs. Had it not been for Nox I would have been split in half, unable to do anything.
I released another torrent of flames in an attempt to regain some distance between Sigmund and me. Once again, Sigmund easily leapt out of the way of the flames and closed in on me again. The flames soared past the man harmlessly before crashing into the ground.
Sigmund struck out with his blade again. This time, there was no hypnotic pattern. Instead, Sigmund’s blade suddenly seemed very heavy. It was as if a mountain was falling towards me instead of a single sword.
Unfortunately for Sigmund, this was a feeling I knew all too well. Remembering all the times I was forced to spar with Kora, the Blade Calamity, I easily sidestepped this attack. Compared to the weight her blade held all the time, Sigmund was still lacking.
As I moved past Sigmund, I left another pool of flames on the ground where I stood a moment before. Sigmund’s sword slammed into the ground with enough force to cause small tremors. It cracked and splintered the rock, almost forming a crater with that one sword strike.
Clutching the wound on my chest, I smiled at the swordsman. “Sorry Sigmund, but I win.”
Sigmund looked confused for a moment before glancing at the three pools of flames on the ground. All three had burned into a complicated geometric pattern. A faint blue flame rose up through the rock underground to join them.
There was no time for Sigmund to get away before the glyphs began to shine with a golden light. An explosion rocked the floating island, engulfing the swordsman in a wave of golden flames.
To my amazement, Sigmund did not submit to his fate at the hands of the golden flame. He somehow managed to strike down half the explosion with a swing of his sword that created a shockwave blowing it back. Fortunately, though, the remaining half of the explosion was enough.
Sigmund was thrown across the island. His flesh was torn and burned from the explosion to reveal a metal skeleton underneath. His arms and legs were both mangled into unnatural positions, and yet, Sigmund never released his grip on his blade.
The man struggled to move despite his body’s horrible condition. He managed to flip himself onto his back as I walked over.
I looked down at the man as I sheathed my dagger. “Do you submit?”
Sigmund chucked as green flames leaked out of his body in an effort to repair the damage done.
“I submit. From this day forth, I will serve you loyally.”
Marcus_Breeze
I love writing fights so much more than dialogue. It comes much easier to me and is a lot of fun. Not sure how well I convey everything going through my head, but practice makes perfect. Maybe one day I should write a martial arts novel… I have a lot of other stories I need to write first though.
As always, if you are enjoying the story, consider supporting it at Patreon to read chapters before their public release.
