Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: First Stamina Training
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Evelyn, who had been leading the way, came to a stop. A wide clearing stretched out before her.
“We’ve arrived.”
The moment Rachel heard they had arrived, she collapsed onto the ground. The sweat beading on her forehead soaked into the dirt.
Lying flat, she turned her head to survey the clearing. There were large tree stumps perfect for sitting on around the edges, and even a small spring.
Evelyn gathered her long hair into a high ponytail and approached the prone Rachel.
“Already worn out? This is troubling. We haven’t even started yet.”
Rachel propped herself up on her elbows, gazing up at Evelyn’s face framed against the sky.
“We’ll be training here from now on. Think you can handle it?”
“Yes.”
To Rachel, it wasn’t just fine—it was essential. In her current state, she worried she might dislocate her wrist just swinging a sword. She needed to build stamina and muscle.
“Here.”
Enoch held out a handkerchief. Rachel accepted it without hesitation.
“Thank you!”
Rachel wiped the sweat from her brow with the handkerchief.
“I’ll wash it and give it back.”
She tied the handkerchief around her wrist. She had a feeling she’d be sweating buckets today.
“Sure.”
Enoch even offered his hand. Rachel grabbed it and pulled herself to her feet.
“Rachel, let’s focus on building your stamina for now.”
“Yes.”
There were no objections. Just yesterday, she’d imagined learning swordsmanship and blocking incoming strikes, but she now realized it was impossible with her current body.
‘If I can’t resist, at least I need to run...’
An image flashed before her eyes of herself getting caught by the black shadow because she tired out while fleeing.
Rachel shook herself and focused on her mother. Evelyn stood facing her. Enoch positioned himself beside Rachel.
“First, let’s warm up. Follow my rhythm.”
“Yes.”
“One, two, three, four...”
Stamina training began with bare-handed exercises.
They started lightly with marching in place.
After loosening the legs, they rotated their wrists and ankles, then slowly swung their arms forward, upward, to the sides, and around the waist.
Then came slow squats, big arm circles, neck rotations, chest stretches, side bends, forward and backward arches, side twists, head nods, jumping jacks with arms out, and finally, catching their breath—all familiar movements to Rachel.
‘This is basically national exercise gymnastics?’
“It’s temple calisthenics.”
“Nothing beats this for evenly training a body with low stamina. Rachel, it’s your first time, but you’re following perfectly!”
Evelyn praised Rachel, who mimicked her movements almost flawlessly. Rachel gave an embarrassed smile.
‘It’s not my first time.’
“But your stamina is weak. You were panting during the jumping jacks at the end, and your movements slowed.”
Evelyn didn’t just praise. Rachel, who had felt her limits during the jumping jacks, nodded.
“Now, running. Since it’s the first day, just one lap. If you get tired while running, switch to walking instead of stopping.”
With those words, Evelyn took off around the clearing without giving Rachel a chance to rest. Her long blonde hair, tied in a single ponytail, swayed like a horse’s tail. Rachel followed Evelyn’s back.
It wasn’t a full sprint—just a light jog—but after about twenty seconds, Rachel’s breathing grew ragged. Her heart pounded wildly, the pulse thumping in her ears. Her legs slowed, and her body began to wobble.
‘I’m falling!’
Rachel felt herself tilting and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Rachel seems prone to tripping.”
Her body was caught. At the same time, Enoch whispered softly.
Enoch, who had been running behind her, had grabbed her as she started to fall.
“Thank you.”
“Lady Evelyn, I think Rachel needs a break.”
Evelyn, hearing the footsteps stop behind her, turned with a regretful expression.
“We’re just getting started, and my daughter is this frail.”
She had planned only one lap considering her daughter’s condition, but Rachel’s stamina was already depleted after one set of calisthenics. Evelyn approached with a resigned look and handed Rachel her canteen.
“Don’t gulp it down— just take a sip and hold it.”
Rachel followed Evelyn’s advice, drinking only enough to wet her throat. The water tasted sweet, tempting her to drink more, but she obeyed.
“One more sip.”
Rachel tilted her head quizzically and took another sip from the canteen.
“Still thirsty?”
“Yes.”
“Then one more sip.”
Rachel blinked. She couldn’t understand why they were making her drink so tediously. As if reading her thoughts, Evelyn smiled.
“Feels weird, right? Wanting to chug it but being told to sip.”
“Yes.”
“As a kid, I was impatient and once choked after gulping water post-sparring.”
‘It’s the willow leaf story without the willow leaf.’
It reminded her of the tale where a willow leaf was floated on water for someone desperately thirsty.
“So, don’t drink water hastily!”
Understanding Evelyn’s point, Rachel drank freely.
“Now that you’ve finished the water, on to the next.”
“Isn’t it over?”
She had thought today’s training was done after taking Enoch’s suggestion, but Evelyn wagged her finger.
“Of course not. Only the running is done. This one won’t leave you breathless, so get down on your stomach.”
Rachel lay prone. Since she had volunteered to learn, she had to push as far as she could.
Evelyn adjusted Rachel’s hand and arm positions, then supported her stomach with her palm.
“Bend your arms and lower your upper body. Breathe in.”
Next came push-ups, commonly known as arm bends.
She was supposed to bend her arms to lower her upper body, but it just dropped. Without Evelyn supporting her stomach, her belly and face would have hit the ground.
“Extend your arms, exhale.”
She went up. But her body wasn’t straight—her hips stayed put while only her upper body rose.
“Keep your body in a straight line, hips too.”
“It’s not working.”
Rachel’s arms were already trembling. Evelyn sighed.
“You really take after your father.”
Rachel recoiled at being compared to Henri.
“Why that face? Isn’t your father intellectual? Doesn’t he look dashing turning pages with those slender fingers and his monocle?”
“Wow, rose-tinted glasses.”
The words slipped out unintentionally. But Rachel knew not just her mother but the real Rachel had been smitten too. Her diary was filled with admiration for Henri.
“Haha, yeah.”
Rachel gave an awkward laugh. Evelyn pressed with her palm, straightening Evelyn’s body—no, Rachel’s.
“Breathe in and go down again.”
Push-ups continued, but with Evelyn’s help, Rachel managed only three.
“My daughter is really weak.”
Behind her, Enoch nodded vigorously.
“She seems to have no muscle at all.”
“Enoch, don’t hit where it hurts so suddenly.”
“Huh? I didn’t hit any bones.”
He denied it with an innocent expression. Rachel wagged her finger.
“Sometimes words hurt more than punches.”
“I see. Comparing words to punches—Rachel, your sayings are fun.”
“Enough chit-chat. Now lie down.”
Next was sit-ups. Unlike what Rachel knew, she only needed to lift her head and chest slightly.
“I can do this!”
...she declared confidently, but after about ten, her solar plexus started to cramp. Eventually, she got a stitch there.
“Please help. My solar plexus is cramping—I can’t lie down.”
Rachel clung to Evelyn’s arm.
“Whew.”
Evelyn sighed audibly, slid her leg under Rachel’s head to support it, and massaged the cramped spot.
“I can’t even let you hold a sword for fear you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’ll work hard.”
“You’re all talk.”
At Rachel’s coquettishness, she stroked her forehead with her other hand.
“We have time. With steady training for about five years, you’ll at least be able to protect yourself.”
“Five years?”
“Your father proves even that’s short.”
“Why Father?”
“When I first met him, he was so fragile. Black hair but skin so pale I thought he was ill. When we met again, carrying heavy books for study had built his stamina.”
As she spoke of her husband, her words grew longer. Rachel cherished the rest time, even if it meant listening to Henri stories she didn’t care for.
“This isn’t the time. Rachel, stand up. One more exercise. We did upper body, now lower.”
Next was the horse stance. Rachel couldn’t hold it for even a minute before collapsing.
“Enoch, what do we do? Our Rachel is like a newborn foal.”
“Not quite.”
Rachel appreciated the initial denial. But seeing her legs tremble as she stood again, Enoch nodded.
“I saw a newborn foal stand for the first time once—it’s just like that.”
“You’re worse, Enoch.”
They wrapped up with cool-down calisthenics, ending Rachel’s training.
“You waited a long time?”
“No. I waited gladly.”
Rachel sat on a tree stump with the canteen.
Now it was time for Evelyn and Enoch’s sparring.
“I prepared wooden swords since real ones might make us too serious.”
Evelyn picked up an object wrapped in black cloth and unwound it. Two longswords, just shy of a meter in length.
Rachel recognized them immediately.
“Those are the decorative swords from the hallway!”
“Right. They’re unsharpened.”
Evelyn tossed one lying flat to Enoch. He caught it respectfully with both hands.
“Is it okay to handle a sword so roughly?”
“I’ve never handled it roughly.”
Rachel wanted to ask what logic that was, tossing it casually yet claiming otherwise.
“Rachel, you wanted to learn the sword? Watch this spar closely. This is the path your seniors will show you.”
Evelyn and Enoch each held a sword and moved to a spot away from where Rachel sat on the stump. There, they took distance and bowed to each other.
“Please go easy.”
“Run wild as you like.”
The distance was pointless. The moment the spar began, they closed in.
No probing opponent’s skill or standoffs existed. Enoch swung his sword, and Evelyn lightly deflected it.
Clang!
The clash of the two swords echoed loudly.
Evelyn recovered her sword faster than Enoch and spun, thrusting from the opposite direction. The tip aimed at Enoch’s chest; he inhaled sharply, twisting his wrist to redirect and block.
“Nice reflexes there.”
“Thank you.”
But praise was followed by fierce combo attacks.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
Evelyn’s sword whipped around incredibly fast. Enoch gripped the hilt with both hands to avoid being cut, enduring.
“Amazing.”
Rachel watched in awe.
Evelyn’s sword left afterimages. If her attacks were a raging storm, Enoch was a steadfast ancient tree—or a single ship.
Twisting his two-handed sword grip bit by bit to weather and part the storm, but unable to withstand the onslaught, he lost balance. His unbalanced body couldn’t block Evelyn’s attacks and was pushed steadily back.