Chapter 18: Sparring (II)
Two days had passed since Dante knocked out Calton. It wasn't intentional; he made that clear to the guy. He knew Calton had been bedridden for an entire day, and when asked, Calton said he was sick and needed rest. Clearly, no one wanted to admit they'd been pummeled by an old man, especially as a Recruit. Dante understood that feeling well. He hated losing, but had dealt with defeat almost his entire life. He had never beaten his father—every time he blocked a strike, another one came, then another.
Each day brought a new lesson and a new loss.
The taste of defeat still lingered on his tongue.
"Sir Dante," Calton called from across the ring. "Can we start slower this time? I spoke with my Sergeant. He doesn't want me to end up like last time."
Dante agreed. Calton laughed and moved closer again, the two bumping fists before stepping apart. Dante waited for the guy to come at him again—if he did the same, it meant he hadn't learned from his past mistake.
However, Calton didn't come. He kept the right distance and raised his stance. He was locked inside his own defense, analyzing. That was the right move when he knew the speed and strength of his opponent. Dante took a step forward, and Calton immediately stepped back.
He's afraid.
"Stop." Dante lowered his arms. "Come here."
No one around understood what the old man did. Calton approached, and Dante pushed his chin up, then landed two quick punches to his chest.
"Why are you scared?"
"To be honest?" Calton's hand went to his ribs. "The difference in strength made me realize I couldn't beat you. But I know… if I don't train more, I'll stay the same. There's a guy with over five supports helping in training, and I don't have anyone who takes me seriously."
"Right, you've been honest with me. Here's what we'll do: I won't attack you for five minutes, so do what you can to land a hit. Or would you prefer I attack you and you dodge for five minutes?"
"I think my defense is still weak. My rhythm's been denser than usual, and my footwork still sucks."
Dante agreed and gently pushed him to the other side.
"Let's do it this way, then." Dante raised his right hand. "I'll use just this arm, only dodge it."
Sergeant Endrik got alarmed and angrily waved his arm at Dante.
"What do you think you're doing, Recruit? He's not a soldier. You need to treat him with more respect."
"Ah, shut up. Do you want him to improve or not? I've been beaten my whole life, I know what I'm talking about. Come on, Calton, defend yourself and dodge as much as you can. I won't use my skill so I don't hurt you."
The Corporal raised his hand to Endrik, asking him to stop.
"Mr. Dante is someone who will help me. Leave it to me." And he raised his hands to Calton, getting back into position. "Come at me."
"Just to remind you, you can't attack me."
Dante's stance made Calton feel a chill. It wasn't just the way his arms positioned; it was the angle of his entire body. From his sharp eyes watching his prey, to his feet inching forward, closing in.
And still, he wasn't using his skill. This was different, much different from anyone else who had offered to help him train.
When Calton's breath was running out, Dante moved. The Corporal panicked. He had to breathe heavily, throwing his body to the side, feeling the punch tear through his ribs. He didn't have time—then a kick came. He had to duck and retreat, his fists near his face, trying to breathe, create some space, but Dante closed in, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it to the side.
The whole ring turned upside down. When Calton realized, he was lying on his back, staring at the lantern above. He was panting, not from pain—Dante hadn't hit him anywhere—but his chest burned.
"Dante," Dimitri raised his voice. "Take it easy. He needs training, not to be beaten up."
"I'm not even hitting him, and you want me to do less than this?"
The Recruit appeared in Dante's vision, putting a cigar in his mouth.
"Are you alright, kid?"
He really is powerful.
"I'm… yeah."
"Good, good." Dante crouched beside him. "Did you notice where you're going wrong? Even if you dodge, your defense is still open. You need to use your arms and legs. Where did you learn to fight?"
"At home. My dad was a Captain. Well, he still is." The pain in his chest faded. The pressure the old man created earlier, too. "Can I know how you learned to fight like that?"
"My father taught me. Since I was young." Dante gave Calton's chest two pats and pulled him up. The two stood, and Dante raised his hand. "One more time, until you can dodge for five minutes."
They separated. Calton went to his corner, and Sergeant Endrik climbed the stairs, touching his face and noticing a bruise. Calton turned his face and walked away, breathing deeply. He watched Dante return and chat casually with Dimitri. I'm nothing to him.
It was as if he was a child again. How many times had he seen his father do the same? Once a month, he could have a training session with him, but he always lost before a minute was up.
"Stop wasting my time, Calton." The words of Captain Hermes, his father, still hurt whenever he remembered how much he had sacrificed. The hours of punching trees, thorn corridors, the Corporals and Sergeants who always helped him in training. In the end, the wasted time was the same for everyone.
The faces rushing away, just wanting to leave.
"Are you lost, Calton?"
Again, Dante's fists raised in the middle.
"Come on, you don't need to train?"
Dante lowered his arms when he saw Calton crumble, his head down, swallowing what might have been the last of his saliva. Sweat ran through his hair, touching his cheek and dripping down to his chin. His clothes were soaked after the last four hours of constant beating.
To be honest, Dante looked at Dimitri.
"I thought he'd give up after falling five times. The kid's tough."
"I told you." Dimitri laughed, climbing the steps outside and leaning on the ropes of the ring. "He's good, but you gave him a lesson on what an attack looks like. I bet he won't be able to fight again today."
Calton threw himself on the bench Endrik placed outside. The young man threw his arms on the canvas, breathing deeply and controlling his heartbeat. Dante recognized that expression, resilience, determination. The kid's eyes didn't waver, even with the fear of the fight, he knew what he wanted.
"He'll overcome it." Dante passed through the ropes and left the ring, heading down with Dimitri. He grabbed some water and drank, but didn't sweat.
Soldiers and Corporals entered through the side door. Uniformed in battle gear, they chatted while waiting for Calton to come down, helped by the Sergeant and another soldier. Soon after, a tall guy entered. He carried both gloves in his hand, clapping them together, sparking a flare. Dante paid close attention to that move.
Dimitri tapped his shoulder.
"This is Rubbem."
The guy who replaced Dimitri for the Command. So, this was the guy many called a fighting machine. Dante clenched his hand and opened it, curious. Should I test him?
"Don't do anything." Dimitri seemed to read his mind. "He's not someone we should mess with. His base increased, and he's got two Lieutenants backing him. If we hurt him and he can't fight, we might get hunted down."
Dante sighed heavily. He wanted a chance to hit the little arms thief.
"Alright, I'll talk to Calton."
He crossed the side and approached Endrik, who turned when Dante tapped him on the shoulder. The Sergeant opened up, and Dante crouched to see Calton sitting, still recovering.
"Your base is weak." The words might hurt more than a few hits, Dante knew what that meant. "I'm not saying this to offend you, kid. You've got good coordination, but you need to improve your agility and defensive base. Start with that and learn how to exploit the enemy's flaws. Before using your skill, learn to use your body."
"And how am I supposed to train… all of this?" Calton was still out of breath. "I need help with this too."
Endrik crouched and clenched his fist.
"I'll help you with that. It won't be hard since Officer Arnako will be out for a few months because of the Ferry."
Dante stood up and extended his fist to him. Calton took some time, maybe gathering energy to raise his arm and bump their knuckles.
"When you need someone to warm up before fights, call me."
"Yes, Mr. Dante."
The kid looked about to collapse from exhaustion but kept himself awake and used his comrades around him to stand up.
Dante crossed the outside of the ring again but felt a gaze from above. When he turned his head, it was Robbem staring at him. Raising an eyebrow, Dante gave a mocking laugh and walked over to Dimitri.
"These kids today." He grabbed his uniform. "Less and less respectful, don't you think?"
Dimitri was still watching Robbem but nodded in agreement.
"Always proud."
Dante slapped him lightly on the arm.
"Let's go. You've got to arrange a fight with me tomorrow. I'm tired of waiting."
Dimitri stepped back but still stared at the kid in the ring. His face a mix of concern and disgust. He turned his back and left through the front door. Dante and he remained silent until they left, passing other soldiers and recruits.
"Don't worry, you alright?"
Dante lit the cigar and put it in his mouth.
"Think I'd worry about you? Not a chance."
The two laughed.
"His time will come, Dimitri." Dante clenched his hand and opened it, releasing the energy built up in his body. "It always does, that's for sure."