[Albion Plane, Porfield Kingdom, Mount Thor, White Lion Stronghold]
A month after Alicia's decisive victory, a disciplined peace lay over the stronghold like a thin layer of frost. Ragnar attempted no other raid, and the cold of the winter dismissed any funny ideas Jack may have had. For at least three months, until the cold disappeared, the white lion bandits would quietly hibernate.
In a dusty training yard, the rhythmic clang of steel was punctuated not by grunts of effort, but by calm, analytical words.
Greem moved among his squad, his eyes missing nothing. His swordsmanship had undergone a fundamental change.
It was no longer just a collection of practiced forms; it was a flowing, intelligent dance.
The arcane energy he had begun to sense sharpened his mind as much as his reflexes, allowing him to perceive the intricate geometry of movement and intention. Concepts he could not grasp before were now evident in his eyes, even if actually applying them was infinitely more difficult.
"Jask", Greem said, his voice even as he parried a swift lunge from the scout, "Your lunge is fast, but you telegraph it with your leading shoulder. See?" Greem demonstrated the movement slowly, his own shoulder dipping a fraction. "If you keep it level, the attack comes from nowhere."
Jask, usually a cocky fighter, nodded, his expression serious. He tried again. This time, the thrust was cleaner, sharper, losing its predictable quality.
[Name: Jask. Attributes: Strength - 1.5 | Agility - 1.6 → 1.7 | Vitality - 1.3. Skills: White Tiger Swordsmanship (40→ 45), Banditry (30)...]
With daily training, Jask had earned five points of proficiency in the white tiger swordsmanship. His attributes, especially his agility, had also gone up by one decimal point. Others may not notice it, but the progress was evident.
It was not just him. Albert, Tyrus, Vanessa, Brutus...His four other subordinates all went through a qualitative change.
[Name: Albert. Attributes: Strength - 1.4 → 1.5| Agility - 1.3 | Vitality - 1.6. Skills: White Tiger Swordsmanship (35 → 38), Banditry (20)...]
"And you, Vanessa", Greem turned to the woman, who had deigned to join the morning drill, yet never missed a single session.
[Name: Vanessa. Attributes: Strength - 1.2 | Agility - 1.6 | Vitality - 1.0. Skills: White Tiger Swordsmanship (40→ 42), Banditry (15)...]
She fought with a scout's short sword, but her style was all her own
"You rely too much on your agility. You avoid the kill stroke perfectly, but you waste momentum doing so. Use the redirection to set up your next move, not just to escape."
He illustrated, deflecting her blade and, in the same motion, using the contact to spin into a position where his sword was at her back.
"The parry isn't a end. It's a beginning."
Vanessa's amber eyes gleamed with interest
"A beginning, you say? Most men are just trying to survive my attacks. You're thinking three steps ahead. It's… unsettling"
He then moved to Albert and Tyrus, the two workhorses of the squad. Both had solid attributes. Strength and Vitality well above average, and their swordsmanship was definitely off the charts, if you considered the white lion bandit group's standards of roughly 30 points of proficiency for the talented, 20 for the less talented.
He positioned them, "Albert, your shield bash is strong, but you commit your whole body. A feint from you would lock an opponent's guard, allowing Tyrus here to finish. You don't always have to hit, sometimes you just have to control the space."
He had them run the drill. Albert feigned the heavy bash, and as their practice opponent reacted, Tyrus, now with a clear opening, landed a clean, solid strike.
"Good! Again!", Greem commanded, "Sync your breathing. Tyrus, watch Albert's foot. When his weight shifts forward, you move. Don't think. React."
Finally, he faced Brutus, the squad's powerhouse. The large man was heaving, having just spent his fury on a training post. Like Ragnar, he came from a barbarian tribe. His strength was the highest of the group, but his build was unsuited for swordsmanship.
Just like Ragnar failed to defeat Alicia, Brutus was actually the weakest in individual fights. However, Greem valued him a lot, choosing him over many veteran bandits when choosing his subordinates. His sheer strength was a force of nature in itself.
[Name: Brutus. Attributes: Strength - 2.3 | Agility - 1.0 | Vitality - 1.5. Skills: Basic Axe Mastery (19), Wild Senses (15)...]
"Brutus", Greem said, picking up a practice axe, "Your strength is a gift. But you treat it like a hammer, and every problem like a nail."
Greem demonstrated, a single, devastatingly precise chop that bit deep into the training post and stuck there, the force perfectly channeled, "Power without control is just noise. Remember how Ragnar lost. He was far stronger than Alicia, but he was controlled by fury rather than skills. Otherwise, she would have stood no chance"
The squad watched, impressed. In a month, their leader had transformed from a skilled fighter into a true instructor, his insights cutting to the heart of their weaknesses.
"Also, you all need to work on your stamina. Tonight, we will run laps in the mountain. We can't have you out of breath on a battlefield, can we?", Greem teased them.
It was at this moment of focused training that a cold voice interrupted.
"It seems your talent for instruction does not extend to judging which conflicts to involve yourself in", her voice filled with a frozen layer of judgement.
Greem's arm was instantly covered in goosebumps. He immediately recognized the voice. And she had to come exactly at the moment he badmouthed her physique.
Alicia stood at the edge of the training ground, Kael a stoic shadow behind her. The easy atmosphere shattered.
Greem's squad snapped to a semblance of attention.
"Chieftain", Greem said, giving a respectful nod
"I received a report", she began, her gaze icy, "Last night. A brawl near the granaries. Three of my men. Loyalists. They were found bruised and disarmed. They claim they were ambushed by Ragnar's followers. And the witnesses…they all name you."
She took a step forward, her eyes boring into his: "They say you intervened. They say you disarmed my men with what was described as embarrassing ease, while allowing Ragnar's brutes to scatter. Explain"
The memory was clear in Greem's mind. It had been a deliberate provocation by Alicia's loyalists, seeking to bully Ragnar's men. By participating in the Oakhaven's raid, Greem's affiliations were clear. Even if Ragnar had lost the duel, he did not lose his position as a white lion general, and even if he lost reputation, he did not grow any weaker. If anything, the duel exposed his shortcomings.
Ragnar was a brute, but he was the strongest brute of the stronghold, after all.
"The situation would have escalated, Chieftain. Hearing only the voices of those abusing their position would do no good in exposing the truth", Greem replied, his voice calm, "Your men drew steel first, intending to maim. My intervention prevented permanent injuries or deaths. I neutralized the greatest immediate threat to the stronghold's peace"
"Neutralised...", Alicia repeated, the word dripping with frost, "Yet the ones bedridden are my men"
"I took the side of stability", Greem countered, a firmness in his tone that made Kael's hand drift to his pommel, "A crippled loyalist and a dead raider would have reignited the war you just ended. I saw a path to de-escalation and I took it. The law was being broken by both sides. I stopped the breaking"
Kael spoke, his voice a low rumble. "Lady, I am afraid he is right. In a week, the men will recover, and it is not the first incident we heard. If anything, we should reward him for de-escalating conflict"
For some reason, Kael often took his side. First recruiting him in the White Lion Bandit Group when he was just a child. Then giving him a book once he learned he knew how to read. And now this...
"His judgment in this yard seems sound enough," Alicia said, her eyes flicking to his squad, seeing the clear respect in their faces.
They didn't see a rebel. She returned her gaze to Greem, the anger in her eyes shifting into something more calculating.
"You fight, you raid, and now you teach. Greem. A year ago, you were just a pup, unable to wield a sword. Intersting...I will let this matter slide. Hopefully, I don't have to meet you more than needed"
Greem nodded curtly. She already knew the whole story. Likely, she had already punished her own men. The reason why she came was the disturbing rise of a sixteen-years-old squad leader. She did not even bother to hide her smile.
'What a terrifying woman...'
Greem scanned his own attributes.
[Name: Greem | Age: 16 years old
Attributes:
Strength - 1.6 → 1.7 | Agility - 1.5 → 1.6 | Vitality - 1.5 → 1.6 | Arcane - 1.2 → 2.0
Skills: White Tiger Sword Art (65→ 72), Banditry (56), Literacy (42 → 45), Horse Riding (35), Plundering (30), Basic Axe Mastery (20) (New)]