Chapter 43 — Lessons in the Clash

The arena had settled into a tense quiet after the duel between Aric and Serik. The crowd remained buzzing, the echoes of clashing steel still ringing in their ears. Aric leaned against a stone pillar, sweat dripping from his brow, chest heaving. He had survived, even countered some of Serik’s attacks—but victory had eluded him.

Kaelen approached, his cloak flowing silently, golden eyes sharp and focused. “Step away from the crowd,” he instructed. “There is much to discuss, and you cannot let the excitement cloud your mind.”

Aric followed obediently, still gripping his sword. “Master… I did my best. But I could feel him controlling the rhythm, predicting my moves. How do I overcome that?”

Kaelen studied him, his expression calm yet intense. “You survived because you adapted well, but surviving is not enough. You must understand the essence of combat. Fighting a legend like Serik is not about matching strength—it is about mastering the flow, exploiting openings, and turning rhythm into advantage.”

He gestured toward the arena. “Watch carefully. I want you to recall every movement, every feint, every subtle shift in weight Serik made. What did he telegraph? How did he react to your counterattacks? Where did you anticipate correctly, and where were you late?”

Aric closed his eyes, replaying the duel in his mind. He noticed the slight pause before Serik’s spinning strike, the subtle shift in his shoulders before a heavy downward swing, the rhythm of his breathing that indicated the next attack. “I see it,” Aric murmured. “If I can predict the rhythm… I can force him into mistakes.”

Kaelen nodded. “Exactly. You don’t need to overpower him. You need to control the flow of the fight. When you understand the rhythm, you control the battle, even against a legend.”

Aric’s eyes brightened. “So I need to use my observation to dictate the pace, not just react to him?”

“Correct. Anticipation is power. Adaptation is mastery. And understanding the essence of your opponent’s style is the path to surpassing them.” Kaelen’s voice softened slightly. “Every great fighter I faced had weaknesses, even if hidden. Your task is to find them, exploit them, and learn from every strike.”

The young prince’s determination solidified. “I understand, Master. I will not let him, or any other opponent, control me. I will learn, adapt, and become stronger.”

Kaelen’s golden eyes glimmered with quiet pride. “Good. This is only the beginning. Serik tested you, and you survived. The next challenge will be even greater, and you must be ready to not only face strength but to turn it into opportunity.”

Princess Lysandra, watching discreetly from the stands, noticed Aric’s calm determination. She had seen him grow rapidly under Kaelen’s guidance, and her admiration deepened.

Kaelen turned toward the horizon. “The tournament is far from over. Many warriors remain who will challenge you in ways Serik did not. Learn from every fight. Adapt. Predict. And never forget—the Mirrorblade’s lessons are more than swordsmanship—they are a way to see the battle before it begins.”

Aric tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the weight of responsibility and potential. He was no longer just a student or a prince—he was a swordsman in training, poised to become a force the kingdom had never seen.

The Royal Grand Tournament had entered a new stage, and with Kaelen’s mentorship, Aric’s growth promised to shake the very foundations of legend.