The sword I was holding was made for kids. He told me it was left over from his dead students. While it had clearly seen use in the past, it was still well-maintained. They clearly meant a lot to him. I felt like a mere wooden sword would break after a few blows, but he assured me it was sturdy enough as long as he didn’t spar with someone of his own caliber. I felt really excited—I hadn’t fought anything but monsters in a long time, so being able to fight a strong human made me happy. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, and clearly missed the thrill of the fight.
“If you hit me even once, you win. Don’t worry, I won’t go too hard on you.”
“Thank you. You’ll end up regretting holding back, though.”
“Hmph. Stop bragging and show me what you’ve got, brat.”
It was time to teach him a
