The training yard was quiet that morning. Mist clung to the earth, wrapping the village in a pale shroud. Only the rhythmic creak of gears from the mechanical statue broke the silence.
Lino stood before it, wooden sword in hand, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. His hands were raw, his body bruised—but his stance was firmer than before.
He shifted his weight forward, lifted the sword, and struck.
Thud.
The statue rocked a full inch back on its base.
Master Rohn's eyes narrowed.
Again.
Thud.
The second blow landed cleaner, smoother. Lino's arms trembled, but he didn't falter. Again and again, he swung, the dull rhythm echoing through the morning air.
By the fifteenth strike, his body felt like lead. But the statue had moved—just enough to be seen clearly.
Rohn let out a low grunt. "So. You've managed to complete the set."
Lino dropped to his knees, chest heaving. Sweat dripped into the dirt.
"Does that mean…?" he panted.
"It means," Rohn said, folding his arms, "that you've reached the level of a Beginner. Your body is finally fit to touch a blade in truth. Not that it changes much."
Lino blinked up at him, hope sparking faintly. "Then… I can apply to the capital's academy."
The old man's expression hardened. "Don't be a fool, boy. The academy is for nobles, for prodigies. Even if they let in a commoner, what chance would you have? You've no talent for the sword. Struggle all you want, and you'll still be a pebble in a world of mountains."
The words stung more than the statue's blows. But Lino forced himself to his feet, clutching his wooden sword until his knuckles whitened.
"Maybe I am weak. Maybe I'll never be like the prodigies," he said quietly. "But the academy is the only way out of this village. If I stay here, nothing will ever change. My mother will grow old breaking her back, and I'll be nothing more than a training dummy for stronger men."
Rohn's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but his voice remained cold. "You'll regret it. The capital eats boys like you alive."
"Then let it try," Lino said. His voice shook, but his eyes did not.
For the first time, Rohn was silent.
---
That night, Lino sat by the fire while his mother mended an old cloak. The wooden sword rested beside him, scarred and worn from days of abuse.
"Mother," he said suddenly.
She looked up. "Yes?"
"I'm going to apply for the academy in the capital."
Her hands stilled. For a long moment, she said nothing, only staring at him with wide, searching eyes.
Finally, she whispered, "The capital…? Lino, do you understand what you're saying? That place is dangerous. It's not like here."
"I know," he said, his voice low but steady. "But it's the only way. For me… and for you."
Her lips trembled, as though she wanted to argue. But in the end, she only pulled him into her arms, holding him tight.
"Then promise me this," she whispered into his hair. "Promise me you won't break."
Lino closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I promise."
---
The next morning, as dawn painted the sky in pale gold, Lino stood before the training statue once more. His body ached, his future uncertain, but his path was set.
For the first time, he wasn't just training.
He was preparing.