Now Marie knew what most knights felt. The rush of adrenaline, blood flowing wildly through her veins. The sensation of bones vibrating with every clash of swords. The feeling of being cut and bleeding.
Marie was currently lying weak on the cold stone floor. Blood seeped from small cuts on her pristine white skin. Her arms and legs felt like they had disappeared somewhere.
"Done!" Morgan withdrew his hand.
In an instant, Marie felt as if she had been revived. The small red lines on her skin vanished. Her arms and legs could move again. She felt her entire body suddenly in its best condition.
Honestly, Marie was surprised to find that a demon like Morgan could heal wounds—something only a priest or doctor could do. Demons were synonymous with evil, blood, death, and other negative things. It had never crossed her mind that a demon could heal someone.
"Good sparring today. Let's rest for a bit," Morgan continued.
On the sixth day, Marie spent the entire day just crossing swords with Morgan. This time, the training was more intense; Morgan didn't just attack her, he intended to hurt her. Though painful, Marie felt improvement in herself. Every bruise, every wound, every drop of blood had given her valuable lessons.
With Marie's permission, Morgan could injure or even kill her. But he didn't; instead, he taught her earnestly. He often corrected every mistake she made. And Morgan even healed her wounds.
It felt like Marie could now place her full trust in him.
After intensive training, Marie could now perform attacks, parries, and techniques that would greatly help her in real combat. Morgan even praised her repeatedly during their sword fights.
The more she fought, the longer she could last. Slowly, Marie was able to put up a fight against Morgan. At first, she was happy to land one attack, then two, then three, and several more. Though she still lost in the end.
But the wounds she received also increased. If it weren't for Morgan and his ability to heal, there would surely be a red puddle on the floor. Fortunately, Marie knew that Morgan always held back; otherwise, the entire room would have been painted red.
Gradually, her movements became more confident, swift, accurate, and precise. Her body, though screaming in pain, was filled with determination. Her mind also slowly developed. She could now absorb some of the techniques Morgan used during training. Though still an amateur, Marie was proud of herself.
Marie let out a satisfied sigh.
Footsteps echoed in the stone room. Marie didn't need to bother turning because she knew it was Morgan. He stopped beside Marie, who was lying weak, and placed a tray carrying a teapot and some snacks on the stone floor. Instantly, Marie's eyes sparkled.
"Sit when you want to eat, Marie."
Swiftly, she rose from her lying position with a bright smile on her face. Without ceremony, she poured the teapot into her mouth, letting the cool water plunge directly down her throat—a behavior unbecoming of a princess like her. But who cared? Besides, there was no one in the room except her and her loyal servant, who seemed unbothered.
Marie let out a relieved sigh.
"I see you've progressed very rapidly over these 6 days. Not extraordinary, but quite good," Morgan said proudly.
Marie sighed. "It's because of the power you gave me. Thanks to that, I could focus on your movements and mimic them."
"Morgan, you know..."
Morgan, who was about to eat a biscuit, stopped. "Know what?"
"Today is Saturday... and Monday, I have to go to the academy. I want us to train more tomorrow, more intensely, and more seriously. Because tomorrow I might not be able to see you again. So, I want to learn as much as possible from you before I leave."
"Academy, huh? So you'll be learning with peers your age? That's good. Strength doesn't just come from oneself but also from companions. But why do you talk as if we'll never meet again?"
Marie sighed. "The academy I'm entering is called Sprout of Hope. It's a strict military academy full of competition. From commoners to nobles, everyone is educated there without distinction of status. And noble students there are not allowed to bring their servants, with the reason being to make them independent."
"Hmm, is that so? Well... nothing can be done." Morgan stood up and stretched. "Then, I'll train you to the limit starting from this second. Get up." Morgan opened his blood-red eyes and offered his hand to help Marie stand.
Marie thought Morgan would insist on following her into the academy because he had sworn to always be by her side. But she was wrong; Morgan seemed to accept it willingly and would use the remaining time to train her.
Honestly, Marie felt a bit sad. She was the type to easily become attached to others in a short time. Also, she was someone who easily felt sad when having to say goodbye.
But she had to go. Marie had to learn many things in this world, not just fighting, but also building relationships. She needed to gather as much strength as possible to claim the throne. She also had to achieve as many accomplishments as possible to be deemed worthy by Master Abraham.
Life must keep moving forward, or you will be left behind. And Marie will keep moving forward to achieve her dreams.
Marie rose from the hard stone floor and picked up her sword. Her stance was now firmer and more solid, and her swings were more powerful. All thanks to her six full days of training and her unwavering determination.
Marie was different from her former self. She was no longer a crybaby hiding behind others, but someone who wielded a sword herself.
A sword master is not born with talent, but through repetition and experience.