The Training from Hell

I had exactly two days to learn how to fight.

Which, in my opinion, was a completely reasonable amount of time to become an unstoppable warrior. I mean, sure, most people trained for years, but I was working with divine desperation.

And also, I had Orion Aetos, heir of Zeus, best swordsman in the Academy, and walking storm cloud as my trainer.

What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, right.

Everything.

Day One: Orion's Revenge (I Mean, Training Evaluation)

The moment I walked into the private training hall, Orion tossed me a wooden training sword.

Not gently.

I barely caught it, nearly dropping it twice before gripping it properly. My arms already ached just from the weight of the thing. That was a good sign, right?

Orion sighed, looking me up and down like a blacksmith inspecting a defective blade. "Yeah. This is going to be worse than I thought."

"Excuse you," I said, adjusting my grip. "I'll have you know I—"

"Attack me."

I blinked. "Wait. Just like that?"

"Yes."

"…Physically?"

Orion rubbed his face. "What else would I mean?"

"I dunno, maybe some kind of elaborate mental game? A chess match to the death?" I shrugged. "I'm great at deception."

"Kael."

"Yes, dear mentor?"

Orion smirked.

Not a good sign.

"Attack. Me."

That smirk sent alarm bells in my head.

See, normally, Orion was either serious, irritated, or completely done with my existence.

But right now?

He was enjoying this.

I sighed. "I'm about to regret this, aren't I?"

Orion smiled. "Yes."

I shrugged. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."

I lunged.

And then I was on the ground.

Day One: The Breaking Point

I blinked at the ceiling, very confused.

"…Huh."

I hadn't even seen Orion move.

One second, I was attacking. The next, I was on my back, staring up at the rafters.

Orion peered down at me, looking unbearably smug.

"Oh, my mistake," he said. "Were you attacking just now?"

I groaned, rolling to my feet. "Okay. That was a fluke."

"Sure."

I attacked again.

Same result.

Then I tried again.

Also the same result.

After the eighth time hitting the ground, I just lay there, groaning.

"You know," I huffed, panting. "I'm starting to think this training session is just an elaborate revenge scheme."

Orion smirked. "Maybe."

I gasped in betrayal. "You are enjoying this!"

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Well, considering you've spent the past five days harassing me at all hours of the day and night…"

Okay, fair.

I sighed, dragging myself to my feet. "Fine. What now?"

Orion grinned. "Now? We actually start."

Footwork, Positioning, and Pain

For the next four hours, Orion drilled every single mistake out of me.

"Your stance is wrong. If you keep standing like that, a stiff breeze could knock you over."

"Plant your feet. No, wider. NO, NOT THAT WIDE! Do you want to do the splits?"

"You're not holding a baseball bat, Kael, it's a sword. Grip it properly."

At first, I thought he was exaggerating.

Then, I learned that sword fighting is pain.

My arms burned from gripping the hilt too tightly. My thighs screamed as I tried to keep my stance steady. Every muscle in my back ached from the endless repetition of movements I barely understood.

Sweat dripped down my face, making my vision blur. My breath came in short, ragged bursts.

And the worst part?

I wasn't even fighting yet.

By the time Orion called it for the day, my arms were jelly, my legs barely functioned, and my shoulders had been replaced with pain gremlins.

I collapsed onto the ground. "I think… I'm dying."

Orion, completely fine, wiped his face with a towel. "You're not dying."

"I see the light."

"That's the torchlight, Kael."

"…Tell my mother I love her."

Orion exhaled, throwing the towel at my face. "Get up. We're doing this again tomorrow."

Day Two: The Final Lesson

I showed up early.

Orion didn't comment on it.

But I swore I saw the tiniest smirk when I picked up my training sword.

"Alright," Orion said, rolling his shoulders. "Today, you learn to actually fight."

I grinned. "Finally."

"Your optimism is going to die fast," Orion muttered.

The Sparring Match (Or, How I Almost Died)

At first, I tried to fight normally.

I blocked. I parried. I used the techniques Orion taught me.

And it did not work.

At all.

Orion was faster, stronger, and infinitely more skilled. No matter what I did, he was always three steps ahead.

My body screamed at me to stop. My arms trembled under the weight of my own sword. Every impact against Orion's blade sent shocks of pain through my wrists.

I gritted my teeth. This wasn't working.

Which meant…

I needed to improvise.

So, naturally, I threw dust in his eyes.

Orion stumbled back, coughing. "Are you kidding me?!"

"No rules in a real fight!" I shouted, lunging at him.

Orion blocked, still half-blind. "That is the dirtiest—"

"Oh, you know, Selene was telling me how impressive you are," I said.

Orion froze mid-block.

His expression shifted—just for a second.

I grinned.

"Oh yeah," I continued. "She kept going on about how you're the best swordsman in the Academy. That you're so focused and disciplined. That you're, like, a total warrior prince."

Orion's ears turned red.

And that's when I attacked.

For five glorious seconds, I actually had the advantage.

Then, Orion snapped out of it, dodged, and slammed the flat of his blade against my ribs.

I crashed to the ground.

"Dirty," Orion muttered. "But clever."

I wheezed. "So… it worked?"

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "You're impossible."

Before leaving, Orion turned back to me.

"Oh, by the way," he said casually.

Then—he raised his hand.

Lightning crackled to life around his sword, golden arcs of energy dancing up the blade.

I stared.

"What," I croaked, "the actual hell."

Orion smirked. "Enchantment."

"That's not fair."

"Welcome to real combat," he said. "If you're going to win, you need to adapt."

I groaned into the floor. "I take back everything. This training is rigged."

"Good night, Kael," Orion said.

"This is a scam!"

The door shut behind him.

I was so screwed.