Before Williams could even begin to think about Asher’s question, Asher’s hand moved as he transitioned from defence to offence, his fingers wrapping around Virelass’ hilt as he drew the rapier, and he unleashed an unsheathing slashing motion, linking the unsheathing of his rapier and his attack in one smooth motion, the action seamless and refined to a degree that made it seem almost effortless.

Williams immediately snapped out of his thoughts, his mind screaming in danger, his sabre flashing upward for a block. The moment the two metals crashed into each other, Williams felt the force of the collision slam into him like a truck, his body barreling backwards before he regained control immediately, his instincts barely managing to keep him grounded.

The moment he landed on his feet, he frowned, his brain working rapidly as he tried to understand what had just happened. He wasn’t shocked at the fact that Asher had attacked; he always knew it was only a matter of time. But what made him frown was the fact that Asher’s attack had thrown him backwards, which should have been impossible.

Yes, Asher possessed greater base strength than him, but although Asher didn’t say it out loud, he knew Asher was matching and using his own level of speed and strength so that the spar wouldn’t become a beatdown instead of a lesson, maintaining a balance that allowed growth rather than domination.

But as he was lost in thought, Asher appeared beside him, guided by the wind once again, his rapier singing towards Williams’ neck. Williams’ sabre rose; instead of a block, he moved for a parry instead, but the moment he parried Asher’s attack to the side, he found his own sabre being redirected in one smooth motion as Asher used his own parry against him, turning defence into offence with unnerving precision.

But Asher wasn’t done; he unleashed another attack, forcing Williams to block instead of parry this time, and with another booming force, he was thrown backwards, his body slamming into the wall of the training chamber, but it didn’t crack, it simply absorbed the impact as though it was nothing.

"You can feel it, don’t you?" Asher spoke as he walked forward, his steps measured and unhurried. He didn’t rush to attack or finish off Williams; this had now become a defence lesson, not an offensive one.

"Although I’m using the same strength, you are on the losing end; care to explain why?" Asher asked, his tone calm, his steps slow, as though deliberately giving Williams time to think and arrive at an answer on his own.

Although he told Williams to explain why, he didn’t expect Williams to actually speak; the question was directed inward, meant for Williams to answer within himself rather than aloud.

Seeing that Williams hadn’t yet arrived at an answer, Asher continued, "that is because the sword isn’t all about swinging and attacking or unleashing various types and variations of slashes. Just as offence has its style, defence also has its style: the weakness in a parrying technique until it’s perfected, the weakness in a sword when the user blocks, the strength equation between your feet, hand, and sword when you take a stance to block an incoming attack, which, when unbalanced, can be exploited," he explained, listing the concepts with quiet clarity.

Williams’ brain ran in overdrive, his focus sharpening as he listened to every syllable that left Asher’s lips. After a couple of seconds, his stance changed slightly, his body subtly adjusting as he redirected strength to various muscles across his frame, experimenting with alignment and balance.

Seeing this, Asher smiled, "you really are talented, Williams," Asher spoke as he vanished from where he stood once more, reappearing with another strike that carried lethal intent, though still restrained within the same controlled force.

Determination flashed through Williams’ eyes; he didn’t dodge, and he didn’t parry, instead, he chose to block the attack directly. A cataclysmic burst rang outward as the two metals collided, and although Williams wasn’t thrown backwards this time, his body skidded against the ground.

Progress. He had made progress.

Although he wasn’t a monster like Asher or Malrik, who could perfect things simply by seeing them once, he, Williams, was a genius in his own right, his growth evident even within such a short exchange.

If it weren’t for the existence of monsters like the Wargraves and individuals like Asher, Malrik, or even Azaron, he would have been what a monstrous genius was supposed to look like; beings like him and Ryaen were meant to be the ceiling of talent.

But unfortunately, people like Malrik and Asher existed, which reduced him to just another genius among many, a reality that was both humbling and motivating.

A wide smile appeared on Williams’ lips; he was enjoying this, but he knew this time that he was on the defensive, his time for offence was over. However, just because he was on the defensive didn’t mean he shouldn’t read and understand Asher’s attacks; he needed that understanding to improve further.

Asher, seeing the progress, decided to focus on it. With that, he unleashed a storm of attacks with every passing second, each one heavier than the last, the tempo rising in both intensity and complexity.

Left. Right. Above. Below. Below. Sides.

Any time it seemed as though Williams was adjusting to the rhythm, Asher changed it to catch him off guard and force him to recalibrate. He also altered the flow, shifted the weight, from heavy to light, from light to feints, it became a relentless barrage of unending attacks, each one designed to test a different aspect of Williams’ defence.

Williams felt his hands go numb; they reddened as though his wrists would break at any moment due to the heaviness of the attacks, but he didn’t complain. He simply moved. His shoulders begged for mercy, his fingers screamed, his palms burned with pain, but he pushed through all of it, refusing to yield.

He was improving, he could feel it, and he knew Asher could feel it as well. He couldn’t bring himself to stop now, not when he was on the verge of something greater. His upper body turned into a blur as he met each attack head-on, his movements growing sharper with every passing moment.

Speed met speed.

Strength met strength.

Attack meeting defence.

Slashes meeting blocks.

At this moment, Williams seemed to become a sponge, absorbing every ounce of experience that Asher and Virelass poured out, taking in each lesson, each impact, each motion, and turning it into something that was undeniably his own.

_____

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Couldn’t type yesterday due to electricity problems, hence I couldn’t charge my phone.

Bonus Chapter sponsored by FatelessPen.