Chapter 30:Lesson in the Mud
After saying goodbye to Thomas, Peter and Selene set off toward the southern gate. Peter lingered on the last part of his conversation with the old guard — the promise to visit him if his plan failed and Peter somehow managed to survive.
'Who knows… If I'm lucky enough to live through failure, joining the guard wouldn't be the worst option.'
After all, the only thing he was truly good at was fighting — and he already had the experience for it. Getting promoted and commanding a small squad wouldn't be difficult. Perhaps he could even become an instructor someday, like Thomas himself.
But for now he pushed that intrusive vision aside. For it to happen, his plan would first have to fail, the area around would have to be empty — no undiscovered citadels to conquer — and, most importantly, he would have to lose the will to return home.
Trying to think of something else, he kept marching down the main road until he realized they had already reached the southern gate.
He stopped for a moment and studied its construction. With a flicker of curiosity he noticed it differed from its northern counterpart — it was slightly lower, not as solid or well maintained. There were also half as many guards watching over it.
'Well, I suppose most dangers come from the northern forest. Makes sense the southern gate doesn't get many unwanted visitors.'
He concluded. Selene, intrigued by the cause of their delay, followed his gaze and asked, with a faintly amused tone and her characteristic smile,
"See something interesting in that gate, or are you just admiring the architecture?"
Peter cursed inwardly; he had let himself drift into thought for several long seconds and stood still for no reason. He answered in a nonchalant voice, hiding his embarrassment.
"Doesn't matter. Save your energy for later — we've got a long road ahead."
He stepped toward the light beyond the city walls, unaware that Selene's smile widened as she followed with a spring in her step, the hem of her cloak swaying rhythmically behind her.
As they passed the two guards stationed at the gate, they drew a few curious glances but no questions. After all, they were leaving the city, not entering it — the guards had no reason to ask where they were going so early in the morning.
Once they were outside, the rays of the rising sun cast long shadows from the northeast toward the southwest, roughly marking the direction of their path.
This time they didn't stop after two hours as they had on the previous days — partly because there were no trees around to offer shade from the scorching sun, and partly because Selene showed no sign of fatigue.
Apparently the passive enchantment on her cloak — the one meant to enhance her movement speed — was working as intended, making the current pace easy for her to handle.
That fact pleased Peter: they could cover a far greater distance than before. It also irritated him slightly.
For one thing, it wasn't her endurance that had improved — her gear was doing the work for her. Once it became unavailable, she'd be back at square one. And second, it bruised his ego.
When Peter trained for the special forces fitness test, every kilometer had been earned through effort and sweat — there were no magical tools to make it easier. Everything he'd achieved was through sheer hard work.
Meanwhile Selene — who used to struggle to keep up with him on a simple walk — could now maintain a grueling military pace for three hours straight without breaking a sweat.
Peter recognized the emotion he felt as jealousy, though he also knew that, in the near future, this could end badly for her.
Without commenting, he continued walking along the road leading southwest. His current dilemma was whether to keep moving until they found a patch of trees that had survived the deforestation or to stop now for a meal, exposed in plain sight to any possible observer.
After a brief hesitation, Peter chose the first option. Better to see if an ideal resting spot lay just beyond the horizon than to stop now and be disappointed over the next hill.
So he continued on, with Selene a step behind, visibly bored with the long march. She scanned the surroundings for anything other than endless fields and sparse shrubs scattered across the landscape.
Peter's choice proved right. Fifteen minutes later a small cluster of trees appeared on the horizon, ringed by low bushes — a perfect hiding place.
Without hesitation Peter headed for it, eyes sharp, scanning for anyone who might have claimed it first.
He reached the spot, confirmed it was empty, climbed one of the nearby trees, surveyed the area, then jumped down and motioned for Selene to follow — but in the direction they had just come from. Surprised, she asked in concern,
"What's going on? Did you see someone ahead?"
Peter shook his head.
"No. But this place would be perfect for an ambush. The bushes block visibility for anyone sneaking up, and the trees are an obvious stop for travelers — too close to the road. We're moving somewhere else."
"Somewhere else? Where? There was nothing like this where we came from,"
Selene replied, confused.
Peter smirked without looking at her.
"That's exactly why it's perfect."
He then turned parallel to the road they'd been walking on and, after a short while, veered sharply east. The terrain began to descend, and soon the grove and the road disappeared beyond the ridge.
They found themselves in a small valley with a narrow stream running along its base. Near the water grew a few small trees and bushes that offered shade, and beside them stretched a strip of damp ground — the kind of place the stream likely overflowed into during heavy rains.
Peter dropped his bag in the shade, well away from the wet soil, then spread his arms slightly and gestured around with a faint smile.
"No one can see us from the road, and we've got fresh water. What more could we want?"
Selene looked around thoughtfully and nodded. She wouldn't have found this place on her own — she'd likely have gone straight for the obvious grove.
"Well, looks like you know what you're doing,"
she said, trying to hide her admiration as she set her bag down. But before she could sit, Peter stopped her.
"Before we rest, I've got a task for you. Come with me."
He walked toward the marshy patch — a stretch of ground twenty meters across — picked up two relatively straight sticks about seventy centimeters long, stood in the center, and tossed one to her.
"I want you to break my stick using yours — without losing your balance or breaking your own. I won't attack or counter, only block and deflect."
Selene stood still, holding the stick and staring at it as if it might suddenly become a real weapon. When it didn't, she said in a dismissive tone,
"This is your next lesson? What's the point? These sticks will snap after one solid hit. It's ridiculously simple."
Peter raised an eyebrow and answered in a calm, weary voice,
"Then let's begin. If it's that easy, finish it quickly so we can eat."
Holding the stick in his right hand, he pointed it toward the ground and positioned himself with his left shoulder facing her — forcing her, if she attacked, to cover the longest possible distance to reach him. Selene blinked in disbelief.
'What is he even trying to achieve? First he forced me to kill, and now he wants me to fight him with sticks?'
Seeing her hesitation, Peter called out provocatively, hoping to spur her into action.
"Are you going to do something, or should I stand here all day?"
Frustrated, Selene stepped forward, closing the distance to about three meters, and raised her stick with both hands to strike — but instead of the resistance of Peter's block, her descending swing hit nothing but air.
Without seeming to move, Peter had stepped half a pace to the left, slipping out of her attack's path, and tapped her hand sharply with his stick.
'That's going to hurt,'
Peter thought briefly.
The blow stung so badly she cried out and dropped her weapon.
"Ow! You said you wouldn't attack me!"
she shouted.
Peter responded flatly,
"Well, I lied. What would you expect from an enemy that says he won't kill you — honesty? If so, you'd better rethink your beliefs. Now, again. So far, you haven't hit me once."
His taunting, mixed with the throbbing pain in her hand, ignited her anger. Selene snatched her stick from the ground and attacked again, shouting with effort — this time swinging horizontally, leaving Peter no room to sidestep.
He dodged backward instead, gracefully moving out of range. Selene nearly lost her footing on the wet grass. Too far to counter, Peter only yelled back,
"Don't use full force on a swing that won't hit anything! You'll just end up rolling in the mud!"
Selene didn't wait for his lecture. She closed in again, changing tactics — using quick one-handed strikes while the other hand kept balance on the slick ground. It worked.
After dodging the first strike, Peter had to block the second to avoid being hit in the face. He angled his stick so it wouldn't snap on impact — and barely had time to parry another blow immediately after.
After a few successful hits, Selene grew confident and launched a two-handed strike, realizing that light attacks wouldn't break Peter's stick. After a feint from the right, easily deflected, she raised her arms high and swung down hard. Seeing Peter lift his stick to block, she grinned inwardly and thought,
'Got you!'
But her weapon slid down the angled block, and because she had put too much strength into the strike she lost her balance completely and, with a little help from Peter's leg, fell face-first into the wet grass.
She tried to scramble back up to avoid Peter's inevitable counter, but her frantic movements only made it worse.
Then she felt something hard press against her neck. Looking up, she saw Peter's stick hovering just beneath her nose.
"Get up,"
he said.
"I'll explain what you're doing wrong."
Peter reached out a hand to help her, but the offended Selene refused it and rose on her own. Once she stood, Peter pointed to her stick lying broken on the ground and said,
"Well, looks like you lost — your little stick didn't survive the fight."
Selene shot back, full of sarcasm,
"No way! I hadn't noticed, especially after that graceful wrestling match on the ground."
Ignoring her tone, Peter continued calmly,
"The good news is that your attacks are a lot faster now — probably thanks to your cloak's enchantment. But that's beside the point. When you switched to quick strikes, I barely managed to block the second one. If it had landed, it would've hit me."
He added,
"You still need to learn there are more attacks than just left, right, and downward cuts — but that can be worked on later. Now, another thing: you're using too much strength… and too little at the same time."
Selene frowned, tilting her head slightly, the sarcasm fading into confusion.
"Too much and too little at once? How does that even make sense?"
Peter set his stick in the same stance as at the start of their duel and demonstrated.
"Look — to damage or break my weapon, in this case a stick, your strike needs the right amount of strength. Too weak, and it won't do anything. Too strong, and you'll lose balance."
He swung the stick overhead, mimicking her earlier wide attack. It was obvious, slow, and easy to predict. As the stick came down Peter had to take a step forward to keep his balance. Then he explained,
"As you can see, I had to step forward to avoid falling, which puts me dangerously close to the target and wide open for a counterattack. Not to mention, when I raised my arms for the strike, my chest and legs were completely exposed."
He stepped back two paces and demonstrated another attack — this time from below. He lunged forward, twisting his torso and shoulders in one motion with the strike, and finally pushed off with his rear foot. The stick ended its arc level with Peter's eyes.
"This time I used my legs, core, shoulders, and arms together to deliver a fast but powerful cut that would break even a proper guard. And the best part? I'm only vulnerable after the strike — and even then my weapon stays in front of me, ready to deflect a counter."
He regarded Selene meaningfully.
"See what I mean? Use more of your body to make a powerful strike — without relying on brute force."
For a moment Selene stood silently, anger forgotten. Then she nodded slowly.
"What you're saying makes sense,"
she admitted.
"But I wouldn't have known that before this training. Why didn't you just tell me earlier?"
Peter hesitated for a breath, then answered with a faint grin.
"Well… first, it's easier to remember something when you associate it with an unpleasant experience — in this case, an embarrassing defeat. And second…"
he paused, the grin widening,
"…maybe, just maybe, I wanted to see you dirty that fancy new cloak of yours in the mud."
Selene looked down at her clothes and to her horror saw dark stains of wet earth smeared across the silver-gray fabric.
"You—!"
she shouted furiously and threw one half of her broken stick at him. Peter dodged easily, but by the time he straightened up, Selene was already charging back at him with the other piece raised like a weapon.
'Time to run,'
he thought, barely suppressing a laugh, before bolting toward the stream — as she chased after him, shouting his name.