Chapter 67: Training Montage

Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Training Montage

"...ask that you teach me how to fight. So I can stand a chance against my brother... Popo."

Something flared bright across Victor’s senses right as the words left his mouth, his barbarian instinct screaming danger a half-second before his mind caught up.

He threw his head up just as Kiki’s blade came whistling down, stopping dead inches from splitting his skull open.

He stared up at her, wide-eyed.

She paused. Face going red, actual steam-like heat radiating off her ears and cheeks, embarrassment written plain across her expression even as she yanked the sword back and sheathed it with far more force than strictly necessary.

"...Is... is.. is that all?" she snapped, stamping one foot hard into the snow.

Victor scratched the back of his head, still kneeling, Did she just stammer?

He was genuinely confused about what exactly was going or what he’d done wrong. "Uh. Yeah?"

Seeing his confused expression she turned, looking away from him, trying hard to control her emotions that were spiraling.

He explained the rest quickly, rising to his feet. "I saw Popo and Jaja’s duel. I also know that...my brother is a level 5 Barbarian that has trained for many years. I also know that I only have twelve days to learn before the agreed upon day of the battle.

Please, I need you to teach me."

Kiki crossed her arms, giving him a long, unimpressed look. "You think twelve days is going to close a gap he’s spent his entire life building?"

Victor quickly noticed that she did not reject the idea. He gave her a crooked smirk. "Try me."

She stared at him a beat longer, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes, before she let out a short, exasperated breath. "Fine. I’ll teach you." A faint, almost cruel smile tugged at her mouth. "Since you’re so eager to die early, might as well let me help plan the funeral."

"Appreciate the confidence."

That’s a much better call. Training in isolation means Popo has no idea what Victor’s actually capable of until the duel itself, which sets up a far stronger reveal than him just casually leveling up in plain view of the tribe for two weeks. Let me adjust the ending.

"The village is two days out from here." Kiki glanced toward the Direlions still waiting patiently nearby.

"Not anymore." Victor swung himself up onto the largest one’s back, settling into the thick fur. "Get on."

She eyed the beast warily for a second before approaching the next one, and it lowered itself obediently to let her mount.

Her fingers sank into the mane as she settled in, surprised at how soft it actually felt beneath her grip.

"With these, we could make the trip in a fraction of the time," Victor said. "Yeah, this is as good as it’s gonna get."

Kiki shook her head slowly. "We’re not going to the village yet."

Victor blinked. "...Why not?"

"Because you’re not setting foot anywhere near Popo until I’m finished with you." A sharp, almost feral grin crossed her face as she pointed down the slope, toward the thick treeline below. "We shall train there. In the forest. For twelve days, starting now."

Victor’s eyes widened slightly.

"If Popo sees even a glimpse of what you can do beforehand, even though you are weak, he’ll adjust his approach, and that advantage disappears before the duel even starts." She swung her leg off the Direlion, dropping back unto the ground, already walking toward the treeline. "Nobody shall see you until you’re ready."

Victor was really shocked by her foresight. Of course it did make sense. Still, to think that she was going to such lengths for him. And here he thought that she was going to stand on the side of her betrothed.

Of course, he had hope, but he was thinking that he might need to bribe her with one of the Direlions mane or something.

He turned to one of them, and could have sworn he saw it sweating in fear.

Victor remembered the kind of Character Kiki was from the game. She really hated weakness and cowardice. Maybe this was her way of leveling the battlefield.

"And if I’m not ready in twelve days?"

She glanced back over her shoulder, that same cruel smile returning. "Then I suppose we’ll have a very short funeral to plan."

As Victor followed into the forest below he could not help but think, if this was a movie, this part would probably be the training montage.

However, they had only taken a few steps when she paused and turned to him.

"You know that’s a ceremonial weapon right?" She pointed at his double edged axe.

"Ceremonial?"

His eyes widened.

As a lover of fantasy worlds, how could he not know what she meant?

Ceremonial weapons were weapons used during official or sacred ceremony. They were practically just for show, and had little to no real world applicability.

Most times, they were heavily decorated with jewelry and gold, and precious metals.

Victor looked down at his weapon. It had none of that.

"How do you...?"

"It’s a double edged axe. Also known as a double sided axe. Because of how a axe is used during battles, you can wound yourself using such a weapon. Even chopping wood with that would not be easy."

She saw he stared at her skeptically. "Don’t worry, when we get back to the village and you hold a proper axe, you’d see what I mean."

Even though it did not look like a ceremonial weapon, Victor choose to trust her words.

He could not help but flash back to Hook’s face in the real world. Back then, Victor assumed that he had gotten a good deal for the weapon.

What if Hook had only allowed him get away with it because he knew that the weapon’s relevance in battle was under qualified?

Then again the weapon was of the common grade.

Victor’s eyes narrowed, oh, I’m coming for you Hook.

...

Day one went about as well as Victor expected, which was to say, not at all.

Kiki didn’t ease him into it. She came at him with her broadsword from the first exchange.

There was no warm-up, no explanation, just a blade cutting toward him at a speed his body barely defended against.

"Block."

He tried and failed stupidly. The flat of her blade cracked across his ribs hard enough that it flung him into the dirt

"Again."

He got up. Failed again. By the time the sun dipped behind the treeline that first day, he was bruised head to toe, breathing hard, flat on his back staring up at the sky while Kiki stood over him, arms crossed, visibly unimpressed.

"You fight like you’ve never held a weapon in your life."

"I haven’t..." he thought hard. Unless the battle with the Direlion Alpha. A fight which, in all honesty, was him using his brain and not any actual battle skills.

If he had faced that beast head on, the next carcass the Direlion slept by would have been his own.

"Well, not really." He breathed hard.

"That’s obvious."

The days that followed blurred together into a punishing rhythm. Mornings were spent on footwork and stance, afternoons on weapon forms, evenings, he was too sore to do much besides collapse by the fire.

Slowly and painfully, some things started to stick. His guard got tighter. His swings lost some of their wildness.

Of course, he still lost every single spar, but he started lasting longer in each one, a few seconds, then a few more.

Then his axe began meeting her broadsword instead of just getting swatted aside.