"I would never expect you to do such a thing or have such thoughts after everything youâve done in the academy."
Simonâs expression remained the same despite hearing the words of Instructor Ormon.
The instructor was right. He has continuously shown that his desire is to be at the top and not at the bottom, and using his talent in the sword would help him tremendously to reach the top.
If Ormon was right, then Simon would be at least two times stronger than he currently was if he was using a sword.
âIf I donât answer, heâll get more suspicious.â
Simonâs eyes flickered with a calculating glint, then his expression became somber as he looked at the sword on the ground.
"Trust me. Iâve thought about picking up the sword many times. I have even dreamt of it in the past, but I just canât."
"Whenever I attempt to pick a sword, I recall the face of my childhood friend, and I feel a sudden unfathomable weight on my shoulder."
"Iâve tried in the past, but- but- but... I just canât."
He released a deep sigh of pain, regret, and anger as he looked at the sword in front of him.
He heard a few snickers that were aimed at him from the Initiates in the training ground, but he ignored them completely.
Instructor Ormon spoke.
"Well, I donât really get you, but I canât force you to pick up a sword if you donât want to. "
He paused, and he could not help but shake his head slightly.
"I know a certain bastard that would be livid if he heard your words. Abandoning the sword cause your talent controlled you. Foolish and pathetic."
He scoffed, then he pointed at the sword and curled a finger at Simon.
"Give me the sword since youâre not using it."
Simonâs lips could not help but twitch, then he looked at the sword with a light frown.
A second later, he placed his toes under the hilt of the sword, then he flicked his leg up.
The sword flew and spun toward Ormon, and the instructor caught the sword with a deep frown.
"Youâre too afraid to even pick up a sword thatâs not an artifact?" He asked with a tinge of anger, confusion, and disappointment in his tone.
Simon shook his head calmly. "I just donât want to take the risk..."
He paused.
"... Besides, Instructor Ormon, Iâm here to learn how to use my fists, legs, and body. Iâm not here to learn how to use the sword, so Iâd appreciate it if you let this go and please teach me how to use my fists."
This time around, Simon decided to completely change the topic since the longer they swelled on his âreasonâ for not wanting to wield a sword, the higher the chances of them finding out that he was lying.
And to his relief, his method worked.
"Hmm... Fine. Youâre right. Youâre here to become a brawler, a fist master, not a sword master."
Ormonâs four eyes flashed with a devious light and his lips curled up slightly.
"You wanted to know my technique, right? Youâre interested in it?"
Simon nodded.
Ormon nodded. "Good. Attack me. This time around, Iâll fight back. Letâs see if youâll be able to survive and if youâll understand anything during the fight."
"Donât worry. Iâll control my strength. It would be a shame if I broke you."
Simonâs eyes flashed, then he got into an attacking stance.
His right leg slid forward, and his left leg was placed behind him.
Without saying a single word, he attacked.
Bang
He dashed forward, his eyes flashing with a cold light as his entire attention was on the Raksha in front of him.
âI guess I should start learning how to fight like a brawler from now. It wonât be easy, but let me-â
"Donât bother trying to change the way you fight with your fists. Just fight the way youâre used to."
Ormonâs words nearly made Simon to believe that he could read his mind, but Simon knew that this was not true.
It was just purely a coincidence.
âAlright then.â
His figure suddenly blurred and appeared right in front of Ormon, nearly catching Ormon by surprise.
"What a nice movement technique..." Ormon said calmly as he watched Simon throw a punch filled with demonic energy at his abdomen.
He smirked.
"... But not enough."
He placed his palm in front of Simonâs punch, and a loud
BAM
echoed in the training ground.
Simon took a step back after seeing that his punch was blocked, but before he could launch another attack, Ormon attacked.
A kick flew at his waist from the right, and Simon narrowed his eyes and decided to dodge it.
He took another step back.
âIt doesnât feel powerful, but if that connects with me, Iâll have a few broken-â
Before he could complete his thoughts, his eyes bulged wide open, and his mouth was so opened to the point that an egg could fit in his mouth.
Bam
He felt an impact on his right waist, and he stumbled to the side and fell on one knee.
He clutched his waist and coughed.
He was not bleeding, so he didnât cough out blood, but it felt like all the air in his body had been knocked out of him.
âWhat just happened?â
His eyes were wide open with confusion and disbelief.
âI dodged it. I know that I dodged the kick, but why did I feel it? Why does it hurt so bad?â
âWhat is this technique? An illusion?â
Waves upon waves crashed on the walls of his sea of consciousness as he tried to think about everything that just happened.
But he couldnât.
It didnât just make sense.
âSpeed? Could it be speed? Speed is the only thing that makes sense in this situation? Heâs so fast to the point that when I thought I dodged it, no, when I saw it, he had already hit me?â
âBut why did I not feel it back then? Why am I just feeling it now?â
Just as Simon was about to spiral into another whirlpool of thoughts, Instructor Ormon spoke.
"Boy. I will walk out of this circle and beat your ass up if you donât get your head out of your ass."