God Rising: Battle of Atela

"Four extra… You've beaten your personal best" Ludovic pat Darren's back, and the Lad hiccupped before he cast his eyes to a passing slave. "One more" That was an excuse for what he was about to do. As she poured him a jug, his hands reached for her plump folds. To make things easier for him, he made her straddle him, so her chest would be at his mouth level.

"Attaboy" Ludovic poured himself another bottle as his student passed his tongue over the slave's pierced nipples, sucked and nibbled on the beauties that bounced as he humped her.

"Don't get too carried away Lad, the girl isn't for free like last time." He pat Darren's back, and it forced him to let her go. He's been getting too carried away. He knew that quite well.

"When do you plan to leave?" Darren hadn't thought of that before, and he hadn't achieved much yet.

"Well, whenever I'm a bit stronger, and after you tell me about the Magic lock."

Ludovic grimaced, the boy was too persistent. He blamed himself for opening his mouth in the first place.

"Head on home, I still have until midnight to stay here." Darren nodded. The crowd suffocated him anyway. He moved out of the bar, took slow steps home, but stopped by the courtyard first.

Amidst the cold wind, the moonlight poured unto his bronzed skin. Darren practiced with the sword despite his aching head, and his closeness to losing consciousness.

Straight down from the top,

Straight up from the bottom,

Diagonally down to the left,

Diagonally down to the right,

Diagonally up from the left,

Diagonally up from the right,

Left and right strikes horizontally.

He repeated the sequence until he collapsed, and could no longer move a muscle.

*

"Rise and shine sleepy head" Ludovic splashed water over Darren who'd slept more than the normal eight hours recommended by health specialists. The soaked beastman glared at first before he headed out of the room, his eyes still coated with sleep until he bumped into what turned out to be the wall. He fell on his back and his eyes rolled over to meet Ludovic and his nephews staring down at him.

They helped him get up, and Darren apologized for his actions that late afternoon.

"It's best if you freshen up. Your training continues as usual."

Half an hour passed, and Darren joined Ludovic at the courtyard. His eyes came across an old sparring dummy Ludovic filled with straws back when he picked a sword for the first time. It was placed in the middle of the yard and had a sword and a shield attached to it's fake arms.

Ludovic snapped his fingers, and it came to life. Darren was stunned. He barely noticed it would kill him.

"Defeat my practice dummy, and we can move to my workout routines." Ludovic sat back to watch the fight, certain of who would win. It took him months before he could defeat it, and he wondered if Darren could by any chance beat that record.  Real-world sword-fighting between human opponents requires extreme agility, fast reaction time, and dynamic perception capabilities, defeating the magic dummy required two times the experience and skill.

Darren shuffled to the side and awaited in attack, and, possibly, inevitable death. He tried to calm himself and his think of ways to defeat the large dummy.

His opponent thrust his sword forward, only to be met by Darren's sword. Both swords met in the air with a resounding 'clang' and Darren moved back cautiously. It was too quick to judge, Ludovic knew well the demon sealed in that dummy always used the first moments of battle to read its enemy's pattern of attacks.

All Darren could do was try to make good decisions and see if it would be in his favour. The dummy swung its sword carelessly at Darren, and the prince proudly countered with his, but it was too soon for a celebration. With its metal shield, the dummy thrusted the edge into the Wolfman's chest. The surprising move knocked the wind out of the trainee swordsman and stunned him for a brief moment.

A groan escaped his lips as the pain from the attack started setting in. The dummy pulled Darren off his feet and plunged him across the yard. He struggled to get up, but his legs gave out. Ludovic snapped his fingers, and the demon croaked "Too easy" Before it switched back to its everyday form, another useless practice dummy.

Ludovic glared down at Darren, and the wolfman knew well that he'd disappointed his new teacher.

"I can... maybe with a little more practice. I swear... I can…" he was about to rise to his feet when Ludovic snapped, "YOU CAN'T!!!"

Darren lowered his head in shame and his hands balled to a fist, "I'm sorry." That was all he could say. Ludovic stretched out his hand, and Darren grabbed hold, "I like your spirit. You lost, but you're still determined to win."

The prince didn't have time. He had a long way to go, and he had less than three years to complete a training meant for the maximum of six. To catch up with his brother, he might require more.

At the moment, he's currently training, widening the gap between them even further. Closing it won't be easy for Darren

"If you can go months with my strength training and not give up, I will take you to my Father's library, if you can't I won't reveal any of the secrets to you. That is a deal we have to make. Do you accept the challenge?" A wide grin spread across Ludovic's face, and Darren could tell all he'd been doing was just child's play. The real training was yet to begin, and he knew it would be something he had never experienced before. Pain, pleasure, anger, maybe it was worth it. Maybe it was for the best.

Darren nodded "I'm ready for the real training."

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