Astral headed out after breakfast. The sun was already up, and the men were already training. He walked into the training compound and saw Riker seated on a bench.
He walked to Riker and bowed to him to show respect. Riker looked at Astral and smiled. "When Mabel told me that you wanted to train, I found it hard to believe, but here you are," Riker said.
"I meant it when I said I wanted to become a sword master. If I broke after just one day of training, then this path is not for me," Astral said.
Riker got on his feet and placed his hand on Astral. "You are going places, boy," he said. Astral smiled in response and walked off to get a sword. He grabbed one and returned to stand in front of Riker.
Some of the knights that were training looked over to where Astral was. Many of them had seen him yesterday; they saw what Riker put him through.
Some had even placed bets that Astral would not return for the second day, but to their surprise, he did.
"The Baron actually has a son," one of the knights said.
"Huh? What do you mean, what happened to the first young master?" another asked.
"Pfft, that mage? He ain't no man," the knight replied and returned to his training.
Astral raised his sword above his head, taking the perfect stance. SWOOSH. He slashed for the first time. The pain shot through all his body, but he gritted his teeth and immediately went for the second.
Riker could immediately tell that Astral was in pain, but he did well to hide it. No, Astral wasn't hiding it, he was ignoring it.
'I have never had this much respect for a child, yet you only used two days to get the respect from me, with your own hands.
You swing like a man that carries a heavy burden. Your every slash has meaning. What are you, Astral Von Miller?'
Riker watched Astral swing without moving at all. Soon, many of the knights gathered around Astral, watching as he carried out his training with determination.
They cheered him on, chanting his name through every swing. Though Astral was not paying attention to them, he could hear the chants echo at the back of his mind. It gave him fuel to go faster, to go stronger.
His eyes blazed with resolve as he continued, through the thousand slashes, and moved on to the next. The cheers of the knights got louder the more he went; it got so loud that everyone in the manor could hear it.
Astral's father looked through a window. He saw the knights cheering for his son with vigor. He couldn't help but give a small smile.
Soon the sun had started setting, but the knights stayed with Astral. His body was drenched in sweat, and he trembled with every slash, but the knights chanted even more, their voices pushing him to keep going.
Soon, he reached the final one—a thousand thrusts. Astral stabbed with precision. His sword whistled through the night air. He pulled back his arm and stabbed again. He pulled back his arm and stabbed again.
The knights stood there, cheering after every stab. They knew that Astral was on his last leg, they knew that he wanted to give up, so they cheered him on to keep him going.
And it worked. Astral kept going until he reached the final point—ten more stabs. His sweat had created a puddle beneath him, his hands shook violently, but he didn't stop.
Riker sat down quietly, watching Astral. He might not have been cheering, but he was praying for Astral. He wanted to see Astral reach the final point, and as Astral closed in on the one thousand, he felt his blood pressure rise.
And immediately after Astral thrust the last time, he leaped up from his bench and rushed at Astral. He grabbed him and picked him off the ground. The knights burst into a loud cheer that woke anyone who was sleeping.
Their voices rocked the ground as Astral was held up in the air. Astral, on the other hand, was looking at the screen that appeared.
[You have gained 100 EXP, 2 free stat points]
[Level up, 2 free stat points]
[+2 stat points: Strength, Endurance, Vitality, Willpower]
Astral felt a wave of energy wash through his body, as if the fatigue he had faced just now was not there.
The ache in his joints, the pain in his muscles—everything vanished.
After a few minutes, the knights finally let Astral down. They all patted him on the back before they left, leaving only him and Riker there.
Riker walked back to the bench and sat down, then he turned to the space beside him.
"If you have some strength left, come sit down," Riker said. Astral did as he said and walked to the bench, sitting down.
"I'm sure you are shocked as to why I would be so happy for you completing a training I gave to you, right? But there's a reason.
When I was younger, I had a very good opportunity—the opportunity to train with a sword master. Me along with ten other young people my age.
We were six boys and four girls, all around fourteen years of age.
But unlike what we believed, we didn't learn anything special from the sword master. No, all he asked us to do was swing, thrust, slash, for a thousand times every day.
We all started with happiness, but along the line, it got unbearable. The pain stacked up every day as we tried to reach that night's target.
That training made half of us drop out, leaving the master with five. I was among the five that stayed, and at that point I thought, yeah, he had weeded the grass, maybe we would learn something—but no, nothing changed. We continued that pattern.
Slowly, our numbers dropped, until it was me and a boy named Simon. At the end, I gave up and walked away. But then five years later, Simon became one of the youngest sword masters in Vermillion.
I had missed my chance because I couldn't endure. So remember this, Astral—no matter the pain, there is always gain at the end."