The Blade and the Body

A month had passed since our arrival on this continent. I was slowly growing accustomed to a world where the fantastical was commonplace. For weeks, my squadmates and I had patrolled the Kingdom of Valoria, searching for any sign of the missing aircraft. Our search had yielded a few leads, but all had proven to be dead ends. Consequently, headquarters had revised our mission parameters. Our primary objective was now to explore this new world, establish a favorable reputation to ensure the safe arrival of reinforcements, and foster diplomatic ties with the local kingdoms. The secondary objective was less glamorous: scout for potential oil and resource deposits. The irony wasn't lost on me. Back home, nations warred over dwindling oil reserves while the technology for alternative energy sources sat within their grasp. The logic, or lack thereof, still baffled me.

"Keep your eyes on your opponent, Arc! React instantly!" Brielle’s voice was a low murmur as her shinai—a bamboo training sword—whistled through the air. It was designed to feel and handle like a live blade, capable of leaving a nasty bruise but stopping short of permanent injury.

"I know!" I retorted, my own shinai rising to parry the blow. I countered with a horizontal slash, but she sidestepped it with fluid grace. I pressed the attack, swinging again, only for her to evade with equal ease. Changing tactics, I lunged forward with a sharp kiai. "Hiyah!" The sharp crack of bamboo on bamboo echoed across the training grounds as our blades met.

We were locked, blade against blade, a contest of pure strength. For a girl her age, Brielle was deceptively strong. I strained to hold my ground, her power easily matching that of a trained fighter.

"You're not bad, Arc," she remarked, a grin playing on her lips. I didn't waste my breath on a reply.

"But can you handle…" She disengaged abruptly, her blade flaring with a brilliant light as she sprang back, only to lunge at me once more. "…THIS!"

I focused my own inner energy—my Aether—bracing my shinai in a defensive posture. "Cyclone Slash!" I roared, channeling my Aether into a rudimentary sword skill. My blade ignited, mirroring hers, as I charged to meet her head-on. In the fraction of a second before impact, time seemed to crawl. And then, just as our swords were about to connect, she vanished. "What?"

A cry came from above. "Wind Charge!"

CLACK!

A sharp, concussive impact struck the back of my head. I pitched forward, my face meeting the dirt. "Ugh…" With a groan, I staggered back to my feet, my vision swimming with proverbial cartoon birds.

Brielle rushed to my side, her expression etched with concern. "Arc, are you okay?" It seemed she'd gone overboard again.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my head as I sank onto a nearby bench. "Just a little dizzy. At least it wasn't a repeat of our first session."

She pouted. "That's only because you were being reckless, Arc. I didn't realize you hadn't mastered any basic sword skills or spell attacks yet," she said, setting her shinai aside. She grabbed her canteen from a nearby table, took a long drink, and tossed me a towel.

"It's a hell of a workout, I'll give you that," I admitted, wiping the sweat from my brow. Brielle had been my sword instructor ever since we arrived. Back home, I was a master of Kenjutsu, a Kendo champion since middle school, which was why command sanctioned a katana as part of my deployment kit alongside my rifle. But here, against these "Sword Skills" and "Spell Attacks," I was a complete novice.

I had faced Brielle in the sparring yard multiple times, and I had lost every single match. It was a humbling experience. In the Arid Expanse, insurgents from the Red Sun Brigade to the Caliphate had put a bounty on my head. I wondered what they would think if they knew the dreaded sniper they called 'Oni no Ō'—the Ogre King—was being soundly thrashed by a girl who should have been in her junior year of high school. It was a stark reminder: I wasn't a god, I wasn't flawless. A sniper is a lethal asset on the battlefield, but we are vulnerable up close. A skilled swordsman could close the distance and we'd never see it coming.

I finished drying my face with the towel. My training attire was simple: standard-issue cargo pants and an olive-drab T-shirt. Only an idiot would train in a full plate carrier. Brielle, on the other hand, wore black training pants and a white tank top that did little to hide her athletic curves. For a healthy young man, it was a pleasant distraction.

She capped her canteen. "By the way, Arc. You promised to tell me about that 'H2H' stuff, right?"

I draped the towel around my neck. "You want to learn now?" She nodded enthusiastically. A grin touched my lips. "Alright, let's do it," I said, getting to my feet.

I began with the fundamentals.

"Hand-to-Hand Combat, or H2H as we call it, is a martial art built on efficiency and brutal simplicity. Your sword skills and spell attacks involve a lot of movement, a lot of incantations," I explained, pacing before her like a drill sergeant. She gave me a wry look. "In a real fight, all that pageantry just leaves you wide open. The core principle is to achieve maximum effect with minimum effort. It's the foundation of our entire military doctrine."

She cocked her head. "So your military is lazy?"

I stopped pacing and fixed her with a stern gaze. "Why send a legion to eliminate a single target when a small team of specialists can do the job? Less effort, same result. Why waste lives in a frontal assault against archers on a fortified hill when you can call in an artillery strike or have a dragon rider solve the problem? It's not about being lazy; it's about working smarter, not harder. The same principle applies to H2H. Why execute a flashy, complex maneuver when a simple takedown will do?" Brielle nodded, the concept finally clicking into place.

She retrieved her shinai, settling into a ready stance. "Alright, so what's the first lesson?"

I plucked the bamboo sword from her grasp and tossed it aside. "We won't be needing that," I said. "A sword can break. It can be taken from you. Your hands are always there." I settled into my own fighting stance, a modified Karate posture. "Come at me. Use magic if you want."

"Okay," she replied, awkwardly mirroring my stance before throwing a punch, her right fist glowing with focused Aether.

I deflected the blow with my forearm, using her momentum to spin her around. In one fluid motion, I swept her legs out from under her, followed her to the ground, and pinned her. My right forearm pressed against her throat in a simulated chokehold while my left hand pinned both of her wrists to the dirt.

"That was… fast," she gasped, struggling against my hold.

I slowly released the pressure. "If this were real, I would have cut off the blood flow to your brain. You'd have been unconscious in under fifteen seconds."

"Brielle! Arc! I came to see if—" Elara's cheerful voice cut through the air as she jogged into the courtyard. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening. A deep blush crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks. "Wh-what in the world are you two doing?!"

"Huh?" We exchanged a confused glance before looking down at our own bodies. Only then did the reason for the elf's crimson face become painfully clear. I was still straddling Brielle, pinning her to the ground in what could only be described as a very compromising position.

Our faces flushed in unison. "Kyaa!" Brielle shrieked, and a palm strike, imbued with her ridiculous strength, sent me flying several meters across the courtyard. She scrambled to her feet, brushing herself off frantically. "W-we were just practicing H2H! We weren't doing anything improper, right, Arc?" she stammered. I was too busy seeing stars to offer a coherent reply.

"Oh, I see," Elara said, her initial shock melting away into a cheeky grin. She wrapped her arms around Brielle from behind. "So, does this 'H2H' stand for 'Hot and Heavy in the Courtyard' or something?"

I pushed myself up, gingerly massaging my jaw. Elara was still mercilessly teasing a flustered Brielle when a royal guard approached.

"Lady Vance, Miss Brightwood," the guard announced, his voice formal, and their playful banter ceased. "Her Highness wishes to see you." He then turned to me. "And you as well, Lord Arc." I swear, if he called me 'Lord' one more time, I might actually consider defecting. I was mostly kidding. "She has an important matter to discuss."

"Understood," I replied. As he turned to leave, I added, "And just… don't call me 'Lord.' 'LT' is fine."

He nodded stiffly. "As you wish, Milord. I mean… El-tee."

Once the guard was out of earshot, I turned back to the girls. "Well, let's go see what the princess wants."