The next few days were filled with rigorous training schedules. Zach woke up early in the morning to go train with the dummy, practicing what Beatrice told him.
He knew he wasn't doing something right, but couldn't previously tell what it was.
"Don't notice the blade, notice the intent and predict"—at least that's how Zach saw it currently.
Slowly, he was getting better at his defensive stance. Zach stood, legs wide, looking at the training dummy with intent; the dummy moved, but this time Zach was able to detect it shifting its stance from attack to defense.
Veins popped near his eyes; he strained his body. Boom! Gritting his teeth, Zach stepped to the side, dodging the attack by a hair's breadth.
The sun hadn't risen yet, and the early morning dew filled the air. The next day, Zach went out into the open grass fields and sat cross-legged.
He closed his eyes and tried to feel his surroundings. But nothing happened. Zach strained his ears, but all he could hear was the crickets.
No particular sound. Zach practiced this for a few days; he couldn't go past level 3, so he set the dummy to repeat the level over and over.
He woke up in the morning, meditated, and sparred till his arms felt limp. A week went by, and it was time for the instructor to lecture them again.
"Zach, please save me!" Richard barged into Zach's dorm, panting like a heated mammal.
"What?" Zach groaned, struggling to get up from his wooden bed. "What the... hell...?" "Where did you get my dorm key?—Wait... Don't tell me you took it." Zach's face twisted.
Richard let out a chuckle. "Nah... I just borrowed it. Permanently." Zach growled, covering his head with a pillow; it was early, too early for Zach to admit.
"Hey, you!" A voice echoed from behind. Richard yelped, running into Zach's dorm and slamming it behind him.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The students on the other end banged on the door; Zach refused to react, tightening the pillow around his ears.
"Hey, come outta there, kid." Ahh... Zach stood up in annoyance, glancing at the trembling Richard in the corner.
"Why don't you hide in your own dorm?" he hissed. "Well... you see, umm... they've also borrowed my dorm key."
Zach sighed. "Lemme guess... Permanently?"
Richard nodded.
Richard explained he was owing a group of silver-ranked trainees money when he lost in a bet against them.
Zach always knew Richard to be the gambling type, but this... this was too much.
"But there's no point crying about it." Zach sighed.
He walked over to the door. "Bro, you're trying to get yourselves killed!" Richard panicked.
Zach wasn't the coward he was before; he swung the door open, and a punch instantly flew at his face.
Zach saw the punch just before it collided with his face and raised his hand, effectively blocking the attack.
_Bang_ Zach stepped back. Through the door, a student in a ponytail grinned.
"So the mouse has come crawling out from their hole." He taunted, his fist directed at Zach.
"Funny... I never knew mice threw punches. Guess you're more bark than bite." Zach shrugged.
"You little...!" He gritted his teeth.
"Come on... don't worry, little mice; I've got some cheese." Zach shook his fist, smirking.
Richard nearly collapsed from shock. "What are you doing?!"
Zach stood confidently in front of the trainees. "I'll rip you limb from limb." The cadet raised a fist but was stopped by another student.
"It's enough." Behind him, a tired-looking trainee grabbed the cadet's shoulder.
"Ragnar..." The cadets backed away in terror. Ragnar was one of the few gold-ranked knights of the academy, and rumor had it he had a nasty temper too.
"Let's get outta here, man." The silver-rank knights bowed and scurried away, leaving Zach alone with the lone gold-star knight.
"You didn't need to intervene. I would've handled those rugrats regardless." Zach puffed, folding his arms.
Ragnar looked confused; Zach was dressed in his morning attire—a night robe made out of silk.
"Uh, Sure..." Ragnar gave Zach a questioning gaze.
Later that day, the trainees all stood in the hall as the instructor walked in; this time, it was a young male instructor with long hair and sharp eyes.
"Sir Vale—he was one of the academy's platinum students back in the day, setting a record for the most spars won—1236 wins and 81 losses." Richard shivered.
The knight radiated an aura of cold, calm confidence. He looked around with an unreadable expression, snapped his fingers, and a wooden chair appeared in the middle of the room.
"Whoa, what was that?!" Richard's eye shined. "Summoning skill...?" Zach raised a brow.
The instructor lazily plopped onto the bench, cross-legged. "Today's lecture is about speed." Sir Gale leaned back on the bench as the students stood around.
"Most of you guys probably think speed is all about moving fast, swinging faster... yeah, it's important..." He tucked lazily to the side, glancing out the door.
"...but not that important." He waved his finger, and a chalk appeared in his hand. He then tossed the chalk to a nearby student.
The boy flinched, raising his hand too late—the chalk bounced off his forehead, making the class chuckle.
"Speed isn't about motion." His sharp voice cut through the hall's humor.
Zach was really unfamiliar with Sir Gale's lecturing techniques. His lazy personality even showed in his teaching methods.
"Speed is about courage, decision, timing... everything that has to do with the intent while you swing a blade." He snapped his fingers again—this time, a wooden chair skiddled across the floor, stopping precisely at his side.
"A slow knight with perfect judgment always kills a reckless sprinter. Remember that; you didn't catch the chalk I threw at you because your judgment was poor."
"Speed is like that—the ability to test your opponent's judgment to the max." He said, "But beware, sprinting in recklessly will only get you killed." He gestured.
"But sprinting in with the right judgment will give you an edge in every battle you get into."
"I'll end by saying this: speed isn't really about how fast you move; it's how slow your opponent feels."
The class dismissed, and all the students returned to their usual activities. Zach couldn't see any of the silver ranks, probably because they received entirely different training schedules from bronze knights.
The power struggles really exist in the Avalon Academy. Oh, that's right—Zach just remembered the name of the academy.