If You Mess with Me, I'll Bite (3)
Light movement repetition training. Just repeating the motions, as the name implied. Adding power would come later. But my partner, my roommate Lindel, had struck me with a sudden burst of force.
I had no idea what his beef was. Asking about it could wait. First, I had to pay him back in kind to settle the score.
"Alright, now it's your turn to block and strike. Let's go again."
Lindel said it leisurely.
"Yes, sir. If you'll excuse me."
I gripped my sword tighter as I replied. I slowed my breathing. Deep breaths were essential for explosive power. Just hold it briefly right before the strike.
But the strength drained from my sword hand on its own. I gripped harder again, only for it to slip away once more.
...What's going on?
It wasn't a weak grip. But it wasn't as ironclad as I'd intended either. How to put it? It was firm, yet flexible and smooth. Instinctively, I realized this was the effect of swordsmanship.
This was the first sword I'd ever held. I'd thought you just gripped it hard and swung, like a baseball bat. Wrong. That was how you held a blunt weapon. A sword was for slashing, not clubbing.
The instructor's corrections from earlier finally clicked. "No need to grip it unnaturally tight. Use your wrist at the moment of impact to amplify the centrifugal force."
The shield was the same. I could feel my stance was more solid than before.
"Why the hesitation?"
Lindel, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the difference.
"Don't tell me. Planning revenge on me?"
As if you could. A senior like him, dared by a newbie? What confidence.
Confidence and arrogance were hard to tell apart. I played weak on purpose.
"Sorry. The spot where you hit me is throbbing..."
"Don't be such a baby. No slacking—get into position."
I glanced around. The instructor and Gawain were looking elsewhere. Only Elijah stared straight at us.
This shouldn't be that interesting.
Why the intense curiosity? Anyway, I angled the shield forward. A center-grip round shield, large enough to cover from chin to gut when held close. Swordsmanship knowledge flooded my mind: the shield's subtleties.
A shield isn't just defensive. It secures your guard, letting you pressure the enemy offensively.
That's why I thrust it out at an angle—to actively block incoming attacks.
Lindel swung. A light motion, no counter expected. Normally, I'd just tap it aside with the shield. Not this time.
I stepped forward. My weight shifted. I whipped the shield outward—short, sharp, chopping.
Thwack! Lindel's sword flew wide. His arm flung open. His torso exposed. Weak point revealed.
I channeled the momentum into my sword. Twisted my hips, swung my arm, snapped my wrist just before contact. My whole body's rotation poured into the blade.
The bladeless wooden sword struck his collarbone dead-on. A sharp, crisp crack!
"Aaaagh—!"
Lindel screamed and crumpled, clutching his shoulder. He glared, then lunged back up.
"You little shit—!"
As he grabbed for my collar—
"Enough!"
The instructor intervened.
"What the hell are you doing in the middle of training?!"
"He hit me first!"
The instructor turned to me. Before he could speak—
"Hold on."
Elijah cut in with a smile. Her voice was soft, not loud, yet it silenced the commotion and pierced straight to the brain.
"He hit Judah first."
The instructor's head snapped to Lindel.
"Is that true?"
Lindel just opened and closed his mouth. He couldn't lie—not with Elijah watching.
"...Yes."
He admitted it, trembling.
"Why?"
"I-I, couldn't control my, strength..."
Same excuse he'd given me. No one bought it. The instructor eyed him coldly, then turned to me.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?"
I schooled my face and apologized.
"Sorry. Since my senior did it first, I thought that was how it was done..."
A peek at Elijah—she was smiling brighter. She loved my lie, apparently.
"Candidate Lindel. Consider this a warning. Be careful next time."
"Y-Yes, sir..."
Lindel shut his mouth before he could whine. The instructor turned and bellowed.
"What are you all gawking at? Resume training!"
Lindel shot me a death glare in the meantime. I asked with feigned concern.
"Are you alright?"
"You little..."
The instructor sighed and glanced back. Under his troublemaker stare, Lindel clammed up again.
"I'll supervise you two personally. Everyone else, begin."
With the instructor right beside us, Lindel and I sparred again. He behaved till the end of training. His eyes aside.
*
Lunch after morning training. Elijah had left midway. Busy, no doubt. Noble lessons were no joke. She'd barely squeezed in this morning's visit yesterday and today.
She'll lose interest soon enough.
Yesterday I'd been a spectacle, sure. But that was rare. Today, just a minor clash with Lindel. He was cocky, but not Kael-level vicious.
"So what happened? Did Lindel really screw up?"
Richard kept prying while we got our food. No need to escalate. Just boys posturing.
"Yes."
"Smells fishy. Lindel's got that sneaky arrogant streak. Doesn't cross lines, though."
"No major issues," Dillon chimed in from the side.
"Still, there's such a thing as pride."
"Lindel's growth has lagged behind his intake..."
As they chatted, our roommates tossed in comments. Lindel's usual this and that. I tuned it out—didn't care for gossip.
But I scanned who was talking. The ones annoyed with me yesterday aren't here.
Factions even in our room, it seemed.
"How's the spot he hit?"
"Fine. I'll check the infirmary after lunch."
"Good. Ignore it and it'll fester."
"Got it."
Mid-lunch with Richard and Dillon, someone plopped down loudly opposite us. I looked up from dipping hard bread in soup. Lindel. And two guys beside him... names unknown. The ones who hadn't smiled yesterday.
"Judah."
Lindel growled my name.
"Think your seniors are pushovers?"
"What about you?"
Richard cut me off, glaring murderously.
"Am I a pushover?"
"......"
"Wanna pick a fight at lunch? I'll dunk you in the soup pot for broth before you go."
Young, but 13th Room's senior-most. Passed the most exams. Yet Lindel didn't back down. He met Richard's eyes squarely.
He's got backup.
Sure enough, someone strode up behind Richard, right on cue. Not one of the two with Lindel.
"Isn't Lindel right?"
The boy slung an arm around Lindel's shoulders.
"A newbie dares full-force a senior like Lindel after just two days? Makes no sense."
I looked up, recalling. Got it.
Argon. 15 years old. 5th intake.
Richard's cohort, but never the steady type. Always on the fringes. Hung with the unfriendly crowd like these guys.
Simple conclusion. Lack of skill.
Weak for his intake, ignored. Not sociable. Glares at Richard plenty. Argon, anyway. Richard always brushed it off.
"Only makes sense if you think seniors are shit."
Richard snorted. I felt the same. Kept my cool, though. Too late to de-escalate. My gut said so. But not time to blow up yet.
"One thing puzzles me."
I interjected.
"If seniority matters so much, why'd no one complain when I took down Kael?"
"Yeah, exactly."
Richard backed me.
"Quiet then, now playing senior? Lindel, you got smacked just for eye contact with Kael before, right?"
"......"
"Can't even say thanks..."
"That's then, this is now. Compare roomies to Kael?"
Argon sneered. Richard flushed, gripping his fork tighter.
"Yeah... went too easy last spar."
"What...?"
Argon shoved past Lindel, slamming a hand on the table, staring Richard down. Sparks flew from their eyes. Fight imminent.
"Enough."
Dillon intervened carefully.
"If this turns personal, I'll report to the supervising knight."
Room leader duty. Other candidates gathered, drawn by the noise. Some egging it on, disappointed no brawl.
Richard tsked, leaning back. Argon snorted and retreated. Finally, Lindel muttered low at me.
"We'll settle this later."
"That punk to the end..."
Ignoring Richard's grumble, Lindel followed Argon to another table.
What a mess.
"We big-hearted folks gotta endure."
Richard said beside me.
"But big hearts don't mean we roll over."
"Exactly."
He cackled at my agreement. Dillon shook his head.
"Judah, handling it rationally was good... but no personal payback. Not like with Kael."
I got his worry as leader. After my public Kael beatdown, he feared repeats.
"It's fine. This hazing's common everywhere."
"True."
"But it feels personal, not just hazing. Did I wrong them somehow?"
"Hmm..."
Dillon and Richard pondered long. Same conclusion as me. Nope.
"Lindel wasn't always like this. Noble-born, but tried fitting in. I talked to him when he struggled. Anxious his training wasn't going his way."
Dillon explained. Richard sighed.
"Argon wasn't always like that either... failed a few exams, went off the rails."
"I see."
I nodded calmly, piecing it together.
Inferiority complex. Inferiority.
Trivial, yet it tripped up most relationships. Pride issue. Ultimately.
I was Lindel's junior. Two days in. But too standout. Not just exposing Kael. I'd caught Elijah's eye—their collective goal.
Lagging in training. Then a junior outshines you.
Enough to twist your guts. Especially at 14-ish. This world was harsh on kids. Forced early maturity. Still, middle-school age by Korean standards. Emotional reactions made sense.
I get it. Won't baby them, though.
I gave my all against kids way younger in college gym coaching. Elementary or middle schoolers—full effort.
...Made a few cry. Wait, I'm younger than Lindel here?
No Kael treatment. They weren't rotten at root. Not that level.
Boys grow fighting.
So lay the groundwork for a big one. Afternoon was sparring. Perfect.
Whether inferiority or more—blow it all out at once.
*
No Elijah at afternoon training. Good. I planned another incident today. Not Kael-scale, but still. Too many impressions on her weren't wise.
Pre-spar, light gear like morning. Richard eyed Argon murderously while grabbing his sword. The usual mix of chatter and quiet prep.
I raised my hand casually. Gawain, directing from center, spotted me.
"What is it?"
"I request a trial by combat."
Trial by combat. Settling disputes by force. The classic: slick noble dude goes, "You've insulted me and my house. Duel for honor!"
Allowed here too. Usually skipped—hassle. Gawain paused at the curveball.
"Against whom?"
"13th Room, 12th intake senior Lindel."
Lindel looked flustered. Figured. He'd planned to challenge me later—"see you after" meant that.
Gawain wouldn't refuse. Realistic duel was great lesson. Plus, I was Elijah's favorite candidate. No reason to block.
Not the good kind of favorite.
...First duel, maybe reject? Nah.
"Trial by combat for your first bout. Good example all around."
Whew. But "all around" what? Did he dislike me too?
"Lindel, do you accept?"
He couldn't refuse. Refusal meant flight, admitting guilt regardless.
"...Yes. I accept."
He spat it, glaring.
Then someone else raised a hand.
"I request trial by combat too."
Richard. Gawain nodded. No waiting—Richard pointed his sword.
"Argon, you and me."
Me vs. Lindel. Richard vs. Argon. Duels set.
First time fighting sword-and-board. Even wooden training gear felt real. Nothing like morning reps.
This was for real. First bout, full sincerity.
But "competing under rules" was familiar. Past life, endless matches. Different sport, but experience counted.
Confidence overflowed. I'd win.