The combat hall was colder than usual.
Not in temperature—but in feeling.
Kai noticed it the moment he stepped inside. The usual edge of excitement was gone, replaced by something heavier. The ancient stone beneath his boots felt unforgiving, the worn rune at the center of the hall silent and patient, as if it had seen too many eager students come and fail to be impressed anymore.
Defense day.
No one said it out loud, but everyone felt it.
Leo stood where he always did—near the center, sword resting loosely in his grip, posture relaxed in a way that felt dishonest. He looked like a man waiting for the world to make a mistake.
"Before we begin," Leo said, voice steady, "understand this."
The murmurs died.
"A strong attack can win a fight," he continued. "But only a strong defense lets you survive one."
Vincent shifted beside Kai. "So today's about… not dying?"
Leo's eyes flicked to him. "If you learn properly."
That earned a few nervous laughs.
Leo walked slowly across the floor, boots echoing softly. "Many of you believe defense is weakness," he said. "That it means retreat. Hesitation. Fear."
He stopped and turned.
"It does not."
He raised his sword.
"Defense is choosing when not to move."
That sentence settled differently. Kai felt it sink somewhere deep, uncomfortable and heavy.
Leo gestured, and a sword user stepped forward to strike.
"Watch," Leo said.
The blade came down in a hard overhead cut.
Upper parry.
Leo lifted his sword horizontally above his head, not meeting the blow head-on, but turning it. The attacking blade slid away, its force redirected instead of resisted.
Steel rang once—clean and sharp.
"Upper parry," Leo said. "If you stop force, it breaks you. If you guide it, it passes."
He reset his stance.
The next strike came low.
Lower parry.
Leo dropped his blade just enough, deflecting the attack away from his leg. Minimal movement. No wasted energy.
"Lower parry," he continued. "Your legs are your life. Lose them, and the fight ends whether you're breathing or not."
A third student attacked mid-level.
Side parry.
Leo's sword rose vertically beside his body, catching the blow close to his center. The strike died there, contained.
"Side parry," Leo said. "Simple. Reliable. Boring."
His eyes hardened.
"Boring keeps you alive but trust me you will want your life to remain boring when you meet something that you can't handle."
Finally, a direct thrust.
Leo didn't block.
Thrust parry.
His blade snapped sideways, slashing the attacking sword off line in a sharp, controlled motion. The thrust missed completely.
"Never meet a thrust directly," Leo said. "You are not stronger than steel."
He lowered his sword and looked at them.
"Practice."
They did And they failed.
Kai's arms burned within minutes. Holding the blade steady felt harder than swinging it. His instincts screamed to counter, to step forward, to finish.
"Stop chasing the strike," Leo snapped as Kai overcommitted and left his side open.
Kai corrected. Failed again.
Amy adjusted faster, her movements smaller, more controlled. She struggled with upper parry at first, her timing off—but once it clicked, it stayed.
Victor executed each movement with discipline, though tension lingered in his shoulders.
Vincent—
"Why does side parry feel like waiting to be punched?" Vincent complained as his blade rattled.
"Because you're impatient," Leo replied.
"I prefer the term enthusiastic."
Leo didn't dignify that with a response.
Slowly, something changed.
Kai felt it when he stopped forcing his defense. The moment he trusted the motion instead of his fear, the blade slid into place.
Side parry.
The strike glanced away.
No pain. No shock.
Just control.
That realization unsettled him more than any defeat.
Leo dismissed the sword users next up we have the spear users some say they're the fastest on footwork is it true leo thinking " never mind this are still students actually"
Darius held the spear like a ruler held straight, every movement measured and exact.
His cross guard denied approach so cleanly that opponents hesitated without knowing why.
But when the pressure changed, his rhythm lagged for a heartbeat too long.
Leo noticed immediately—perfection made Darius predictable.
When he adjusted, even slightly, the space around him felt slightly untouchable hinting that more practice needs to be done in respect to that.
Liora's steps were light, always retreating just enough to stay safe.
Her circle deflection flowed naturally, turning attacks aside instead of meeting them.
Yet she gave ground too freely, surrendering space she could have claimed.
Leo's correction forced her to hold—just once—without stepping back.
In that moment, she realized defense wasn't escape, but decision to be made if you're fast enough to do so.
"A spear," Leo said, "is not meant to trade blows."
He lifted one easily.
"It exists to deny."
The attack came.
Cross guard.
Leo angled the spear across his body, the long shaft forming an invisible wall. The attacking blade never came close enough to matter.
"Cross guard," Leo said. "You don't block the strike. You block the approach."
The next attack came faster.
The shields came last.
Bronn stepped forward, shield already raised like a wall. Elric adjusted his grip carefully, posture refined. Mara stood quietly, calm and balanced.
Leo strapped on a shield of his own.
"A shield is trust," he said. "Doubt it, and you expose yourself."
The blow came.
High guard.
Leo raised the shield to cover his head and upper body. The strike landed hard—but Leo didn't move.
"You don't flinch," he said. "You let it work."
The next strike was heavier.
Angle guard.
Leo turned the shield slightly, redirecting the force instead of absorbing it. The impact slid away, weakened.
"Angle guard," Leo said. "The difference between endurance and exhaustion."
Bronn smiled grimly as he practiced, each impact feeding his confidence.
Elric hesitated too much, overthinking each block.
Mara moved smoothly, her shield always where it needed to be.
Switching Weapons
Then Leo did something unexpected.
"Kai. Amy. Vincent," he said. "Shield. Now."
All three blinked.
Vincent grinned. "Ah. So you do want us to suffer."
Kai took the shield reluctantly. It was heavier than he expected. Defensive in a way that felt restrictive.
Amy tested the weight carefully. Vincent nearly dropped his.
"High guard," Leo instructed.
Kai raised the shield just in time to catch a blow. The impact rattled his arm.
Fear surged.
Angle guard.
He adjusted instinctively, and the next strike slid away.
Something clicked.
Defense wasn't passive.
It was deliberate.
Amy adapted quickly, her shield movements precise. Vincent struggled, complained, then somehow improved anyway.
"This thing has opinions," Vincent muttered as the shield absorbed another blow.
Next, Leo handed them swords again.
"Switch."
Sword felt lighter now. Familiar. Dangerous.
Kai noticed how much calmer his movements were.
Side parry.
Thrust parry.
Each success built quiet confidence—not pride, but understanding.
The End of the Lesson
By the time Leo raised his hand, exhaustion clung to everyone.
"Enough," he said.
They stopped immediately.
Leo looked at them—not as students, but as fighters learning to exist.
"Defense is not weakness," he said. "It is patience. It is restraint. It is knowing that survival comes before victory."
He sheathed his sword.
"This hall," he continued, gesturing around them, "will remain open."
That caused a stir.
"You may return," Leo said, "to test. To fail. To learn on your own."
His gaze sharpened.
"But understand this—no one will guide you then. What you do here will be on you."
Kai felt something settle in his chest.
An invitation.
And a challenge.
As they began to leave, Vincent stretched dramatically. "I have discovered that defense is emotionally exhausting."
Amy smiled faintly. Kai said nothing.
He was still thinking about holding.
Not striking.
Holding.
And for the first time, that didn't feel like fear.
It felt like strength. what a blissfull day i can't slack off but i also need to rest only if my bloodline has awakened maybe i won't be feeling this tired i will cacth a few nap before going to training for today.