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       #Post#: 232--------------------------------------------------
       Freshman Swordsmanship: First Class
       By: Mile Date: January 24, 2019, 7:22 pm
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       “Welcome to Freshman Swordsmanship! The first thing I have to
       tell you is that this won’t be an easy course. Out there in the
       real world, you’ll have to deal with threats that may be many
       times your strength, size, and maybe even intelligence. To make
       up for that deficit, you’ll need to fight back with skill and
       perfect practice! Do you understand?!”
       Amidst the shouts of confirmation from the class, the
       swordsmanship trainer for the freshman class nodded his head. He
       was a mountain of a man, with bulging muscles barely able to be
       contained by his armor. Raising the wooden practice sword he was
       holding, he steps forward and swings it horizontally. A gust of
       wind is kicked up by the powerful swing, causing a few of the
       less hardy student to stumble back a couple of steps. The
       instructor smirks, then relaxes his stance.
       “Train hard, and you’ll be able to do that and more. Each and
       every one of you have the potential.”
       Mile’s eyes were full of stars as the man spoke. She was a
       sucker for inspirational speeches and this instructor was a
       champ.
       “Alright! For this first class, everyone break up into pairs
       for a sparring match.”
       Mile looks to her left to find a partner. The person standing
       there had already paired up with the person to their left. It
       was the same situation with her neighbor on the right. She peers
       around them to look for someone else, but everyone had already
       found their sparmates. She turns her attention back to the
       instructor just as he comes to the same realization that there
       was an odd number of students. He nods in acknowledgement, then
       waves at one of the other instructors teaching a separate class.
       “Hey! Let me borrow one of yours, mate!”
       A handsome, noble-looking boy volunteers and trots over to join
       the class. He has the situation explained to him by the
       instructor, then walks over to stand beside Mile, easily
       dwarfing her by almost a foot and a half. Without prompting, he
       grabs Mile’s hand, placing his lips against the back of it.
       “My, if you aren’t a dainty little lady. Please take it easy on
       me, would you? My name is Gabriel, by the way.”
       He was speaking in a condescending manner, but Mile didn’t
       notice. She was far to preoccupied with her own thoughts. She
       introduces herself automatically, replaying the same ponderings
       over and over in her head.
       ”I just need to lose... without getting hurt! Then I won’t
       stand out at all.”
       The instructor explains that he’d call up each pair one at a
       time and evaluate their skills. A few exciting matches played
       out until it was finally Mile and Gabriel’s turn. The two of
       them move to the designated sparring area, raising their blades.
       “Begin!”
       “Don’t worry, Little Mile. I’ll make it quick. And I won’t aim
       for that cute face of yours.”
       After his taunting, Gabriel steps forward, thrusting his blade
       out in a horizontal swipe. Mile, who had been prepared to take
       the first hit and go down, was alarmed by the ferocity of the
       attack. She instinctively raises her blade, blocking the attack
       without budging an inch. She curses herself under her breath.
       ”A hit like that probably should’ve made me stumble or
       something… Oh well, hopefully nobody noticed.”
       Gabriel was surprised, but doesn’t pause. Pulling his blade
       back, he switches up his stance, swinging his blade diagonally
       downwards this time. It was another intimidating attack. Still
       attempting to avoid injury, but not willing to risk blocking
       again, Mile steps to the side, nimbly avoiding the attack.
       Recovering from the whiffed swing immediately, Gabriel twists
       his sword and slices in the opposite direction with a similar
       degree of power. Mile ducks underneath it. Returning to a
       neutral stance, Gabriel smiles.
       “You’re surprisingly good. Maybe I’ll invite you along with me
       once after graduation.”
       He begins a rapid series of short slices,that Mile deflects one
       at a time, unable to find a strike that wasn’t aimed for one of
       her vital areas. She wanted the hit that defeated her to land
       firmly on a spot that her academy-provided armor covered.
       “So? It’s a good idea, right? Haha. In a few years, I might
       even make you my special lover. Isn’t that an honor?”
       With a sinister chuckle, Gabriel levels his blade, pointing it
       at Mile. He thrusts it forward in a masterful stab, apparently
       forgetting his promise to not aim for her face. She leans back
       to avoid it, but this causes her to fall into a sitting
       position.
       “Well now, shall I strike the final blow? Don’t worry. I’ll use
       my grimoire to fix you up right away.”
       He raises his blade in a two-handed grip, bringing it down on
       Mile’s head.
       ”CLACK!”
       The muted sound of wood hitting wood rings out. Mile sat with
       her sword outstretched while Gabriel stood disarmed. The sword
       had been thrown out of his hand and now sat harmlessly several
       feet away. He moves to retrieve it, but the instructor’s voice
       stops him in his tracks.
       “That’s the fight! Good job to both of you.”
       “W-Wait! I-..”
       Before Gabriel could protest, the instructor claps him lightly
       on the shoulder and waves him off to go rejoin his own class. He
       then holds his hand out towards Mile to help her up.
       “Congratulations! You did great!”
       Mile accepts his hand, quickly getting to her feet.
       ”H-Huh? But, I didn’t do that good. I fell down, and I only got
       a lucky hit at the end!”
       The instructor lets out a hearty chuckle, reaching his hand up
       to rub at his neck.
       “You managed to keep up with [i]and disarm one of the top
       students of the senior fencing class. And look at you. You
       haven’t even broken a sweat.”
       He lowers his voice so only she could hear.
       “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were taking
       it easy on him.”
       ”N-No, I--”
       “Hahaha. Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul. That'd be a heavy
       blow to his pride. But I expect you to give it your all in
       training, got that?”
       “Y… Yes sir.”
       Mile sighs, defeated, bringing an end to her first day of class
       as an “average” student of Elsend Academy.
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