Chapter 33 – Watching a Fool Swing a Sword

【Clara PoV】

I hate my job.

Lord Valerius Ashford is the kind of noble who makes me question every life choice that led me here, soft and privileged and utterly useless in every way that matters.

I stood at the edge of the training courtyard, watching.

The morning sun was barely up, casting long shadows across the dirt ground where Valerius stood in the center, holding a practice sword like it was a venomous snake. His form was terrible, his grip was wrong, everything about him screamed incompetence.

Jin stood across from him, arms crossed and looking bored already.

I didn’t blame him, this was going to be a disaster.

“Ready?”

Valerius nodded, his face pale and sweating before anything had even started.

Jin moved.

It wasn’t fast by real standards, but for Valerius it might as well have been lightning as the practice blade came down in a simple overhead strike.

Valerius tried to block.

The keyword being tried, because his sword flew from his hands the moment Jin’s blade connected, spinning through the air and clattering against the courtyard wall.

I wanted to laugh.

This was the lord I was supposed to protect, this pathetic display of weakness was my responsibility, and it made me want to quit.

Valerius stumbled backward and landed on his rear in the dirt, dust puffing up around him while his expensive training clothes got filthy within seconds.

“Again.”

Jin’s voice was flat, not cruel and not kind, just empty.

Valerius pushed himself up on shaking legs, then walked over to retrieve his sword with each step looking painful. I could see the humiliation written all over his face, and good, maybe this would teach him something.

He picked up the sword.

His hands trembled as he gripped the hilt, then walked back to the center and raised the blade again.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Jin moved again, same strike and same angle and same result, sending the practice sword flying from Valerius’s hands before he could even process what happened.

He hit the ground harder this time.

I counted in my head, two seconds was how long he lasted.

Jin crossed his arms again, then spoke.

“You’re gripping too tight, the impact travels through rigid muscles, you need to absorb it.”

Valerius nodded and got up slower this time, his breathing already labored despite us being only five minutes into training.

He retrieved the sword again.

I leaned against the courtyard pillar, pulled out a small knife and started cleaning my nails, because this was going to take all morning.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Jin struck, and three seconds passed this time before the sword went flying, which I suppose counted as progress.

Valerius lay in the dirt, not getting up right away while his chest heaved and his arms trembled. I could see him fighting the urge to just stay down.

But he got up.

I stopped cleaning my nails, because that was unexpected.

Most nobles would have quit by now, made some excuse about a prior engagement or a sudden illness, blamed the teacher or the sword or the weather.

Valerius just walked over to his weapon, picked it up, walked back, and raised it again.

“Ready?”

His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat.

“Ready.”

Jin struck again.

Four seconds, then five, then seven as each attempt lasted a fraction longer than the last.

It wasn’t skill though, just pure stubborn refusal to stay down.

Valerius’s hands were blistering now, I could see the raw skin even from where I stood, blood mixing with dirt on his palms while his fancy training clothes got ruined beyond saving.

He got up anyway.

“That’s enough for basic blocking.”

Jin lowered his sword while Valerius looked relieved for exactly two seconds.

“Now we work on stance.”

The relief died instantly.

Jin demonstrated a basic combat stance with feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, weight distributed evenly across both legs.

Simple stuff.

Valerius tried to copy it, his form still terrible but at least showing effort.

“Hold that position.”

Jin walked away and leaned against the opposite wall, pulling out a pocket watch.

“Thirty minutes.”

Valerius’s eyes went wide.

“Thirty minutes? Just standing here?”

“Stance is foundation, everything builds from it, thirty minutes starting now.”

Valerius opened his mouth to protest, then closed it and adjusted his feet, bent his knees, raised his sword into guard position.

His arms started shaking immediately.

I checked my own pocket watch, because this was going to be entertaining.

Five minutes in, his legs were trembling badly.

Ten minutes in, sweat poured down his face while his breathing came in short gasps.

Fifteen minutes in, I thought he might actually collapse right there.

“Keep your back straight.”

Jin’s voice cut across the courtyard, making Valerius straighten up despite the fresh pain flashing across his face.

Twenty minutes passed.

His arms were on fire, I could tell from how his whole body shook while the practice sword wavered in his grip.

“Steady.”

He steadied it somehow.

Twenty-five minutes now, and tears mixed with sweat on his face, not from crying but from pure physical strain as his muscles screamed.

He didn’t lower the sword.

Thirty minutes.

“Time.”

Valerius collapsed forward like someone cut his strings, not gracefully or slowly, just fell with the sword clattering beside him.

He lay there gasping while his whole body shook, wheezing loud enough for me to hear across the courtyard.

Jin walked over.

“That’s adequate, rest for five minutes, then we continue.”

Valerius made a sound that might have been agreement or might have been a death rattle, hard to tell which.

I found myself walking closer now, because this was getting interesting, not because Valerius was good since he wasn’t, but because he hadn’t quit yet.

Five minutes later, Jin pulled him to his feet.

Valerius could barely stand, his legs wobbling like a newborn fawn trying to walk.

“Twenty practice swings, overhead strike.”

Valerius raised his sword, and the first swing was pathetic, slow and weak with no form whatsoever.

“Again.”

The second was worse since his arms had no strength left.

“Again.”

He swung anyway.

I counted each one while Valerius’s form got sloppier with every repetition, and by swing fifteen he was barely lifting the sword above his shoulder.

“Again.”

Swing sixteen came with arms shaking so badly the blade wobbled through the air.

“Again.”

Swing seventeen, and he nearly dropped the sword.

“Again.”

Swing eighteen made his knees buckle, though he caught himself.

“Again.”

Swing nineteen, and I thought he might actually pass out.

“Again.”

Swing twenty, which he completed barely before falling to his knees.

Jin nodded once.

“That’s enough for today.”

Valerius didn’t respond, just knelt there in the dirt with his head hanging low and shoulders heaving with each breath.

I expected him to complain, to whine about how hard it was and make excuses for his weakness.

He didn’t say anything at all.

Jin walked away without another word, training session officially over.

I approached Valerius while he still knelt there covered in blood and dirt, his clothes destroyed and looking like he’d fought a war.

“You look terrible.”

My voice came out harsher than I intended, old habits and all that.

Valerius looked up at me, his face a mess of dirt smeared across his cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, but there was something different in them now.

Not confidence and not strength, but determination.

“I know.”

He pushed himself to his feet, taking three tries while his legs barely supported his weight.

“Same time tomorrow?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

That was what he was thinking about? He could barely walk and he was already planning the next session like some kind of madman.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

He limped toward the manor with each step looking agonizing, and he didn’t complain once during the whole painful journey.

I watched him go.

Something twisted in my chest, not respect exactly and not yet, but maybe the beginning of something close to it.

Most nobles I’d served would rather die than endure what Valerius just went through, they’d have given up after the first fall and made excuses for weeks.

He lasted two hours.

I looked at the training courtyard where blood drops dotted the dirt in places Valerius had stood, the practice sword laying forgotten near the wall.

Maybe this job wouldn’t be as terrible as I thought, maybe.

I picked up the practice sword with its hilt slick with blood, then carried it back to the equipment shed.

Tomorrow would be worse for him since the second day was always the hardest, muscles that didn’t know they existed would scream with every movement.

Most people quit on day two.

I found myself curious about which kind of person Valerius would turn out to be, the kind who quit or the kind who endured.

The sun was higher now, courtyard empty and training done for the morning.

I had other duties to attend to like reports to file and security to check and a manor to run, but I stood there for another moment.

Looking at the bloodstains in the dirt and thinking about a soft noble who refused to quit despite every reason to do so.

Maybe he didn’t deserve everything he had by birth alone, but maybe he was willing to earn it through blood and pain and stubborn determination.

That was new.

I walked back to the manor with my mind already planning tomorrow’s watch, and I’d bring water this time.

Just in case he lasted long enough to need it.