Tucker stared at the iron sword laying in front of his feet. While Charles was standing at the other side of the training area with a sword in hand. The old man stretched his arms and legs and let out a tired groan. He saw Charles pat his shoulders several times and frowned.

  “I haven’t done this in ages, but I suppose now would be better than any, my dear chap.” Charles rested the spine of his sword against his shoulder. “Now, I don’t know how you fight, so it’s best you come at me with all you got. I'll give you the first move.”

  “No offense, Charles, but I don’t see how this is going to—”

  Right as Tucker was about to finish his sentence, Charles took a step forward and lunged at him. Thrusting his sword right toward Tucker’s heart. The blade scraped against Tucker’s dull iron chest plate, releasing a metallic screech that filled Tucker’s ears. He barely evaded the attack by stepping to the side, but soon, a sharp pain rushed through his arm.

  His eyes fell on the hilt of Charles’ blade. The librarian had pivoted on his leading foot and drove the end of the hilt into Tucker’s arm, knocking him back several paces.

  Tucker struggled to stabilize his body. “You said I could attack first.”

  “Tis but a lie.” Charles could see the pain in Tucker’s eyes, but that didn’t matter. He needed to endure. “Prepare yourself because right now, I’m showing you how someone who is weak fights.”

  “Wait—”

  Before Tucker could utter another word, Charles swiftly closed the gap and stood within an arm’s length of the rookie. Tucker couldn’t help but grit his teeth in frustration. The old man didn’t plan to spare him a second for conversation, seeing as he had no choice. He needed to launch his counterattack.

  Tucker watched as Charles raised his sword. Drawing a silver arc that raced towards his head. It was a simple strike using only the force behind one arm and something that he could easily block, but he guarded against it. Shivers ran through his entire body. He couldn’t believe the amount of force that was exerted behind the strike, and the throbbing pain from earlier made it all the more difficult to block the attack. The only possible solution in his head was to try and lead the attack to the side, but with each passing second, it felt more and more impossible.

  Before he could put his plan in motion, he felt a powerful blow land on his cheek as the weight behind the downward strike shifted. Charles’ fist nearly knocked him back, but the librarian wouldn’t let him retreat so easily. The old man stomped on his foot, locking him in place as another slash aimed at his sword shook his body. Each strike numbed Tucker's hands. The relentless attacks battered his blade until it was knocked out of his hand. Glimmers of silver trailed through the air as the sword spun several times, drawing Tucker’s attention before falling blade first into the dirt.

  “Do you know what scares folks the most when they think they're the strongest?” Charles asked.

  Tucker quickly shifted back to Charles but soon groaned in pain as a devastating kick sent him flying several meters away from the center of the arena. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud and scrapped against the floor. Leaving behind a trail of dust.

  “It’s when they realize they are outmatched but don’t know why.” Charles walked over to the iron sword and freed it from the ground, sending it back towards the rookie with a stern gaze. “You see, I am by far physically weaker than you, but right now, it doesn’t feel like it.”

  Tucker spat out a mouthful of blood. The fist that landed on the left side of his face had busted his lip. “What’s your point?” He quietly asked, picking up the sword and standing once more.

  “There’s more to fighting than just raw strength,” Charles’ response was cold but carried a sense of sincerity. "When you were distracted, I stole the initiative and struck your arm. Weakening your stance before you even knew what was happening."

  Such an obvious answer was already in Tucker’s head, and he knew this. But when he thought back to the demon, his blood boiled. He wanted to overcome it, yet it felt like a tremendous wall stood before him. If he was stronger, he could have easily exchanged attacks with the demon. However, that wasn’t the point Charles was trying to make.

  Charles held his sword in front of him and pointed it at the ground. His grip was loose, and anyone could tell that he was purposing lowering his guard. “So what do you do?”

  “I don’t know,” Tucker’s strained voice filled the area. He felt his emotions swell in his chest. Tightening the area around his heart.

  “You figure a way to overcome it through other ways,” Charles softly said. “I don’t know what you’re trying to defeat, but battles are more than just pure strength.”

  Tucker kicked the dirt floor, leaving behind a trail of dust. In a chaotic burst of speed, his aura enveloped his weapon, bolstering his strength as he struck at the aged man. His eyes focused on Charles in anticipation of the slightest bit of change in their movement. Yet, right before his attack could land, the old man swung his sword into the air. Colliding with the rookie’s weapon as it pushed the blade upwards. Tucker gasped as all his momentum was redirected, but before he could adjust his body. Charles took a step closer, placing his blade beside their neck.

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  “It’s a mind game, one that involves tactics and philosophies.” Charles retraced his steps, gazing at the chip in his auraless blade. “How you approach a fight matters more than simply being stronger than your opponent. I can’t use aura yet I managed to provoke you into falling into my trap. Strength without meaning holds no value.” He pointed his sword at the ground once more and loosened his grip. “Battles are, at its core, a matter of utilizing resources. Now, try again.”

  Blood trickled down the tiny wound on Tucker’s neck. He gently touched it with his index and middle finger. Staring at the smudge on his fingers. Charles shouldn’t have deflected his sword so easily, yet that wasn’t the case. He saw it for a split second. Through the wavering gaps on his weapon, Charles had struck where his weapon was the weakest. A feat that was beyond unbelievable.

  He knew Charles was right. Every single word and move had a purpose. It felt like the old man was trying to guide him, but he couldn’t understand it. There was no guarantee that something like mind games would matter against someone who was solely stronger than him.

  Yet despite this, he listened and rose. If Charles couldn’t use aura, then that was something he could use to his advantage. Without wasting a second, the rookie lunged forth again, causing Charles to shake his head at the wavering aura on the blade.

  “This again? It seems like you haven’t fully grasped the concept yet," said Charles.

  The old man stepped forward, swinging his sword at the gap between Tucker’s aura, but right before the two blades could make contact. Charles’ eyebrows shot up. The aura surrounding Tucker’s sword consolidated at the bottom. Instead of covering the entire weapon, he only covered the area where his blade would strike.

  Tucker grinned as his attack pushed through. The old man’s blade snapped from the point of contact. Yet, for some reason, Tucker couldn’t help but feel like his victory was too easy. Something like this wouldn’t be enough to break Charles’ spirit.

  Even though his sword was aimed at the librarian’s heart. The old man was unfazed, instead he raised his hand into the air and immediately brought it down. Striking the top of the sword and breaking it in half with his verdant aura-cladded hand.

  “What—”

  Two strikes landed on Tucker’s chest as he felt the air get knocked out of his lungs. He stumbled back several feet and vomited on the ground.

  “Ah, sorry about that.” Charles chuckled and stroked his beard. “It’s been a while since I used aura, so I couldn’t completely control my strength.”

  “You—you said you couldn’t use aura.” Tucker forced the words out and wiped the vomit from his lips. The smell of bile made him sick as his eyes trailed upwards onto Charles’ triumphant figure.

  “Ah, I lied. It’s all mind games, Tucker; just because I said I couldn’t use aura during a fight doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”

  The rookie’s gaze lingered on the old man. A bitter feeling of loss fell over him. He knew what Charles was getting at but found it hard to cope with. “But how will this help me fight a demon? Those things don’t even understand us, so how will words trick it? And to make it worse, those things are insanely durable and can regenerate.”

  “My dear Tucker, just because something can regenerate doesn't mean you can't kill it. You just need to make it burn through its regenerative abilities until it can no longer sustain itself. If the demon lacks intelligence and relies solely on instinct, I wouldn’t be concerned.” Charles picked up the blades and discarded them in a nearby trash bin. “Since they would fall for the blandest of tricks. Instead, I would be concerned with demons that could think. Those are the ones that are truly frightening.”

  Tucker hunched over and slowly rose. “I get what you mean, but would these mind games even be enough?”

  “It may not, but it gives you an opportunity. An opening that you normally wouldn’t have. For example, if I had increased my strength just now. You would have had a hole blown through your chest,” Charles replied.

  Thinking back, Tucker held onto his stomach and nodded. Even the lowered guard from earlier was just something Charles had used to provoke him into attacking. He didn’t have the time or luxury to train and get stronger. There was no telling when they would be sent out again, and as he thought this. The sound of footsteps entered his ears. He shifted his gaze towards the entrance of the training area, and soon Charles did the same.

  A figure walked down the hall, their footsteps reverberating against the walls. Tucker kept focused as Alex entered the area with his arms behind his back. He raised a brow at the sight and frowned at the god-awful smell.

  “I see you’re training the rookie Charles,” Alex said.

  “Indeed! Just teaching him a few things about mind games in combat.” Charles held the bin in the air for Alex to see and then lowered it.

  “Ah... fools guard?” Alex asked.

  “Fools guard,” Charles replied.

  “And I’m guessing Tucker was the fool?”

  “Indeed!” Charles pushed his glasses up, watching as Alex adjusted his triangular hat. “So I take it you have some spare time now?”

  “Afraid not, I came to get the rookie.” Alex glanced at Tucker and gestured for him to follow. “We have our orders. We’re being sent out again.”

  “Wait, already? But we just got back,” Tucker protested.

  “That’s just how it is, and we’re the only ones available.” Alex shrugged his shoulders and nodded at Charles. “We don’t know when we’ll be back, but it’s good seeing you, Charles.”

  “Same to you, old friend.” Charles walked up to Alex and patted him on the shoulder. He then watched as Tucker walked towards them. “You’ll be fine. Just take some time to absorb what I said.”

  “I will. Thanks for the help. Alex, what—” Tucker glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Alex quickly walking away. “I swear... he does this every time.”

  “Haha, he’s never been one to wait.” Charles pitifully stared at Alex and patted Tucker on the back, urging the young man to go.

  As Tucker left the training area and followed Alex back to the stone halls. Charles’ words lingered in his mind. He knew that even if he had spent the past few moments trying to train his aura and form his next star, it would be futile. He had yet to master the ability of his third star, which was to hone his weapon. Yet he wanted to do more. He wanted to reach the next stage, where he could imbue a property into his soul.