Chapter 142: Fight, spar, and injuries

Spar didn't stop, and Sarey would not stop as well.

In less than a moment, she held her sword tightly, moving it upward, coming to the right side of Zigmund's face. Unfortunately so, or by the lack of Sarey's surprise, he wasn't one bit bothered by it. He caught the blade in mid-air with a few fingers of his free palm.

Twisting the blade around with his wrist, he caused the blade to fly to the near tree so damn fast that Sarey didn't even recognize she lost her sword. Instead, she remained in the swing with her hand, losing posture for the second swing that she already planned for.

The second swing, which happened as Sarey lost her blade, stopped a few centimeters from Zigmund's bare neck. He looked at her with a smug expression. He didn't stop it, since this was a spar, and he did what he wanted. This was a simple play for him, so the reason it stopped was because Sarey stopped it herself.

Sighting, she unhappily said. “I am your daughter. So stubborn. I swear… this is getting on my nerves, but you were always like this. I hope it will change one day, but you are stubborn as well, so there goes nothing.” She withdrew her blade to her waist and walked away, in no mood to continue.

She knew plenty of reasons to stop this, since she knew he would not stop with just this. Endless suffering was not her forte in the hands of spars against him, and she calmed down a little. Allan was much better subject to this than her since the very beginning, and she already got some ideas of punishing him in her own way.

“Oh, is it the end?” Zigmund asked as she watched Sarey leave with no further drama. That was kind of surprising, since she was pissed off, and he could tell that.

“Yes.” She answered as she took a seat right beside Allan, no longer upset as before, but whispered something to his ears.

“Fine. Alright. How about you, Allan?” Zigmund asked, pointing his sword to him, which was kind of useless.

“I can go whenever,” Allan answered, and pushed himself up with a flick of his staff.

“That staff of yours again?”

“What? Do you want me to try other weapons? We had this conversation a few times already.”

“I know, and I have no troubles with others, but this weapon of yours is always getting to my nerves. It is quite a crafty way of fighting what you recently went with.” Zigmund said meaningfully.

“Really? I am still learning, so I don't know much about it. I never thought you considered it this way, but it is not a bad thing, right? Since it is a spar, I thought there was not much to this. Do you think of this as something different then a spar?” Allan asked.

“I am just saying… that. Fighting like this for the past many days left me in a rather strange course of mind. It's getting me fed up. Today was just a further wood put onto the firepit and Sarey doesn't help with that either, you know?!” Zigmund said, pointing her last sentence to frowning Sarey, who sneered in response.

“I can tell that, so will the fire rage more in this manner? Having a calm mind is something of great value. Isn't it learned in the military? That being agitated in the fight is a bad thing?”

“Depends, Allan. I won't tell you much about it, but how you perceive it is none of my concern. There will come a day, perhaps not so long from now that will make you understand it a little bit better.”

“Future is always uncertain? Tell me more about it.” Allan said as he took a stance with his staff. Facing the tip, Zigmund frowned at the cause of the action, and not at the topic of the conversation.

This was not so pleasant to him at all, since he had to add a lot of effort into completely disregarding his technique. Allan once told him that he had no technique in mind. He used his common sense and general wielding of the long weapon that was a staff. It was a way to wield the weapon comfortably, and it was a key to the current situation, where Allan was making things rather difficult for him.

In fact, it was a matter of time before Allan will be quite strong. He was increasing his proficiency in the art of wielding this sort of weapon in a more than steady manner. Walking with it, using it in part, and so on. This staff never once left his side.

Pointing the sword forward, Zigmund was the first to make a familiar move that Allan noticed right away.

It was the same old technique where Zigmund swung the sword in a vertical slash, and the wind rose and pushed forward a series of windy slashes.

Allan faced this strike head-on. Taking a stance with a tight posture, he had his left leg back and the right front facing directly at the upcoming attack. He put the staff vertically too, minimizing the gust of wind.

Sturdy was the term most correct in describing this stance, and Zigmund was familiar with it as well since he was the one who taught him that.

Although, he never knew how fast Allan got comfortable with that. Yet, it was one of the many surprised, although it was not something that anyone could do. It needed experience and a sturdy body. Both had to be strong since Zigmund was the one who was going against his stance.

Allan stood there, feeling the wind push to his body as the stiffness of his body tried to betray him.

“This attack once again? I went against these dozens of times already.” He thought, frowning at this steady defense, which was quite effective going against the incoming attack of Zigmund.

And it came, not once, but Zigmund used the continuous barrage for the first time ever.

Allan heard the gust of wind forming in front of him, causing his staff to waver. He had to push it to the ground and used death as the base against the strikes that flew like a storm. Allan momentarily lost his balance, but slipped on the ground.

Zigmund continued with the slashes and saw the clear effectiveness of his clever idea. Well, it wasn't clever. He was simply using more brute strength than usual, and that was about it. He looked at the pushed staff and before giving him a change of pace, charged forwards. It was a simple twist of his hips before a flying kick struck Allan in his chest.

Allan was flung away for about 4 meters before he stopped himself with his staff. Zigmund frowned, surprised by the stability even in such a position. Allan didn't fall to his back, since he knew it was a recipe to get sat on and be defeated like a child. It wouldn't be the first time Zigmund did this to him, and he didn't want to repeat that.

Alas, Allan wasn't ready to even defend himself before another push of wind went to his unprepared body.

“Not giving me a chance to breathe? What is this? A spar for me or you?” he growled and took his staff to both hands across his chest, and kneeled to the ground.

“Maybe, go on. Defend. It's nothing strange.” Zigmund continued as another powerful slash flew forward. It was like the previous one, making another storm.

It pushed forth, and like before, it left Allan in a quiet position. In hopelessness, Allan forced himself and cleaved the air with a vertical strike of his staff to force the wind away. With a thud, the part of the staff hit the ground, cracking the earth a little as his power left the power to disperse the wind. Allan did not fly away this time, nor did Zigmund force himself to wide open Allan.

Zigmund watched in silence, understanding quite a bit of Allan's strengths and weaknesses. This was a redundant part of his arsenal, with no proper name or technique. These wind strikes could be learned even by mortals, and Zigmund was one such example, even though it's more complicated than that.

The wind strikes pushed the blade and wielder into a cohesive form, using the core of the power, to push the wind forward with a quick and powerful slash. One had to have power, flexibility, and speed to unleash such a strike, and the more power one had, the more deadly it was.

One had to experience cleaving the air with their swords tens of thousands of times. Years of training could result in something like this.

Defending against such a swing of wind wasn't as hard as it seemed. At least, in Allan's case, he had enough physical strength to go toe to toe with it, even though the more he endured, the harder it would be. It would be best to dodge it, but Allan had no power to do so since the strength that Zigmund used wasn't a little.

It was enough to force Allan's stance to be more ineffective, making this spar a learning experience more than anything else.

Zigmund changed his grip on the sword to a more leisurely manner. His palm was at the lower end, to make quick slashes with not a lot of power.

Leaping forward, he arrived in front of Allan in a few leaps, quickly slashing at Allan's staff.

Allan noticed that no more wind was coming, but the steps he did. Zigmund appeared in his direction so fast it left him in shocking wonder.

“Spar? You are just playing with me, same as always.” Allan mumbled and gripped his staff like a sword. With it still resting on the ground, he swung it like a one as well, from the bottom, straight to Zigmund in a vertical slice. Quick strikes followed, and Zigmund hit the staff dozens of times, making the power behind Allan's staff obsolete.

Zigmund, whose sword was accessing high-velocity thanks to his grip, used his expertise in many horizontal slashes which pushed Allan's staff away. But while he did so, he was left wide open from the many motions he had to do.

“Huh!” Zigmund furrowed his brows and watched the quick change, as well as an attack so damn fast he wasn't able to defend in time.

It was too late.

Allan swung in a single hand, making a circle with the other, and pushed used the motion of his attack against him. With the staff's tip, his strike aimed precisely

where he wanted to. Right into the side of Zigmund's torso, the power let him fly instead of Allan this time.

It hit him from the bottom, all the way to his chest and stomach, and not even the guard of his sword was effective. Sword bent and fell from his hands, shattering into many pieces afterward.

Zigmund grunted, stepped far away in the air, and landed on his feet. Just now, he was careless. Allan hit him well. The numb side of his chest left him a little apprehensive of this unexpected attack, and not one bit of his defense helped.

“This was unexpected. You know you can strike if you want to.” Zigmund said calmly.

“Do I? I am coming up with ways to react and come up with better ideas for this, "spar". Is it a wrong approach to doing so, or do you want to stop being so crazy about it?” Allan talked back.

“No. No. This is fine. I am helping you. That's all that is to it. I am surprised you are all managing and learning so fast. Without sight, yet with quite precise movements, you are more than good in many ways. I must say you make it look quite easy.” Zigmund said, massaging his side of the chest in return. Even his praise was rare to hear, but Allan thought very little of it since he can't be satisfied with this much.

Aside, Sarey snorted from hearing Zigmund talk like this.

“Oh? I am unsure what I can say about that.” Allan dismissed him in the same manner as usual. “Let's continue a little slower. How about it?” Allan pushed his staff to the ground, appearing ready to continue with whatever had to come.

Zigmund chuckled in helplessness and let go of his hand.

The next course of action could all be summarized in a sense of hitting and beatings. Both sparring partners ended in bruises and Zigmund ended this spar as always. In quickness and wickedness, he forced Allan to face the consequences, which left Allan helpless.

Watching Allan from above, Zigmund patted his shoulder and helped him get up from the ground, where he made sure to give him some beating.

“Good spar.” He said as he watched Allan under quite unfortunate circumstances. The defeat wasn't something that Zigmund would forgive himself, and Allan was a kid. A strong one, but a kid nonetheless. Although, he also thought of a good side to this. Having good sparring was something that was already routine to him in this short amount of time, and he always looked forward to sparring with Allan, to some extent. It left him with satisfaction for himself, and Allan, who was improving in a blink of an eye.

What surprised Zigmund the most was his ability to get back to his feet and continue forth the next day. He was always making sure to do the spars, while whatever Allan and Sarey did in their spare time was none of his concern.

He wasn't willing to give him any victory. It was a form of untold training in the military that he went through when he was young, so he does the same to Allan. Taking the form of defeat as a learning experience was better than some victory. It went without saying, even though he most likely knew that Allan could defeat him if he was careless enough. So, he let some praises slip by, which was what Allan heard today.

However it may seem, the flow of defeats wasn't something Allan cared for. It was true that one could be left disappointed by continuous unfavorable results, but not him. Zigmund nodded in affirmations, sure to whom, but he let himself be a winner just to push Allan more towards whatever he wanted.

“G-good spar, I guess,” Allan mumbled as he got back to his feet. Still grabbing his staff in stiffness, he was quite tired and haggard.

At this little time, Zigmund backed away as he noted a hit to his back.

Seeing Sarey flustered and angry looking behind his back, he was unsure what to though.

“It is just a spar.”

“You call it a spar?” She asked, pissed about Allan's injuries.

“Same as everything, every time. Anyway, I will take a bath for now, so deal with him how you see fit.” Zigmund said, with no opportunity to retort from Sarey's side.

Watching Zigmund walk inside, she was left alone with Allan, who had more than enough for today.

“Are you even trying, Allan? I thought I whispered to you to smack his head off his shoulders!” She said, pinching his shoulder while checking his wounds.

“Well, it's fine, isn't it? I did my best and whatever the deal with the Tricloud Alliance is, it shouldn't be too crazy. in fact, I think your father is much more mysterious than you think and it's well outside of the Tricloud Alliance or whatnot.”

“Mysterious? He is tricky as a lizard. That's all.”

“And I am not that angry, nor should I be angry about it, Sary. I am trying to figure out the method to fight and he is helping me quite a bit. Although in the price of some injuries, which are not even half that bad as they seem.”

“I know because I am the one who had to take care of them! So calm down and stop spouting nonsense. I already had enough with father like this.” Sarey said back, shutting whatever argument Allan had.

Noticing the slow creeping tiredness, she wanted to rest for the day as well, but some things had to be taken care of. It was her promise to Allan, 36, and herself. It left no room for taking her own words back to her throat.

She treated Allan the same as before. First, she made sure the injuries were fine and waited until Zigmund was out of the bath. Then, it was time to clean up Allan with some bathing and end the day in a bed with stabbed needles in his back.

30 minutes were gone, which she spent like some kind of caretaker.

Sarey stood before the already sleeping Allan, who was left in this state every time she performed any kind of acupoint treatment. She was unsure if this was normal, but her discussions with 36 said otherwise.

36 wasn't one to care about every other thing, so it wasn't any surprise he said so. All kinds of fatigue can build up in the body, and the Acupoint treatment can help the body relax, release stress, and improve the structure of the internals. He even taught Sarey a thing or two about acupoints in the last few weeks and even gave her a book about them. She remained hiding it from Allan and Zigmund since it was her tiny little secret. She wasn't willing to fall behind, so she researched the methods that would, otherwise, be unavailable to mortal realms. Sarey was taking the knowledge step by step because the human anatomy and things around acupoints sounded very complicated.

To her shock, talk about energy was included in the material 36 gave her, indicating massive power spikes and complexities. It seemed there are a lot of interconnected methods when it comes to the auxiliary techniques of the Immortal realms. For example, pills which 36 made a few examples of. They could directly evolve the body, soul, mind, and corresponding techniques they could be used for. Improving the insight into the comprehension of the techniques and energy of the one who takes the pill.

Materials that she knew held very little meaning with such pills and morals did not need to know about them. 36 let her have this knowledge to let her eat it up. It shut her up for a long time, so that was the biggest benefit of that. Otherwise, he let her imagination run wild, apart from the effects of acupoints which he had to tell her about. It went to the book she had in her room and any kind of effect was responsible for Allan's future.

A few pages a night was enough for her mind to process the information and learn a little every time.