Sarey was walking through the organized mess that her father made for Allan. Everything within the boxes, and stuff around what merchants left outside, had to be managed by her, for the most part. Scheme and the whole forge had to have a place and name for each ore curved into the wooden boxes, which were also customized at Zigmund's request.

 

It was an idea he came up with himself, so Allan would have better times recognizing materials with only a touch of his hand.

 

Inside the house, Zigmund was standing in his office beside his table with documents in hand. It was everything he included with this transaction. He used some jewelry that, after appraising, were only regular items of mortal value. Still very expensive, but nowhere near dangerous after the rest of the treasurers, he decided to forget.

 

The entire process was at first, rather questionable to him since he did not know if the appraisers would find something about the jewels. Zigmund did not notice anything either when he had seen the jewels for the first time. At last, they found nothing, but that could also mean that it could be also beyond their knowledge. Zigmund simply shrugged it off, since he wanted to buy the materials alone, while not buying it from his money at all.

 

“Maybe I went a little overboard, but it could be said, that it is Allan's wealth. I doubt he would ever need to know about this.” Zigmund mumbled to himself in self-assurance.

 

Knock. Knock.

 

Sarey walked inside before Zigmund even had a chance to respond to her knocking on the door.

 

“I support you. You don't have to be so kind to him after all, but teach him well, pretty please.” Sarey said, with fake tears in her eyes to her father.

 

Zigmund was stunned by her demeanor.

 

“You don't have to act like possessed. I can be understanding, sometimes...”

 

“I talked to Allan. He is free after some stretching what he does every day.” Sarey said with a normal expression this time as if nothing happened.

 

“Good. Good. I will beat some sense to him.”

 

“Don't go overboard!”

 

“What? You bought him plenty of medicinal means. Isn't it exactly for this?”

 

“N-no? I don't know. Don't be too kind or hasty, alright?” Sarey asked after some thoughts. There was no point in arguing about his teaching methods since she knew about them. She left to do her own things and ideas.

 

“36 was right. Allan needs to push himself beyond his limit. This is no energy, but I assume it's very close to being one. From the stories, users of energy are sometimes inhuman, other times just regular-looking people. There are countless ways into these pathways.”

 

“From 36's words, Allan can be successful within a few years of being with him. He could also one day, return his eyes. I guess body forging is some lesser form of training from ancient times. That book could be something similar, since some stories that teacher Terg said sounded quite unbelievable. As I see it myself, they could be a regular thing within 36's worlds. Maybe each body technique is related to others.”

“Could I also improve myself by knowing this?” Sarey wondered silently, as she rested outside in the courtyard.

 

Allan was finishing his stretches, and everything that he could come up with to get a better feel of movements, and his own body. He finished his sets, so without Sarey noticing, he went back to his forge. His training would remain like this for a long time since the lack of sight had to be taken into account for every interaction that he previously assumed to be normal.

 

In about an hour, Zigmund appeared with a nice-looking uniform on himself. He had a sword with a handle in his hand and in another was a pair of wooden swords.

 

“Wow. I've never seen you wear this.” Sarey glanced at his appearance, which she had never seen before.

 

“You did. Although you were little.” Zigmund told while getting to the middle of the backyard.

 

“Is it that special for you to suddenly wear this?”

 

“Not really. I felt like it.” He said honestly.

 

“So, where is he? My hands are getting itchy.”

 

“In his new place. I will get him.”

 

Sarey had some worries about him, but there was nothing more she could regret. Allan would figure something out. She got up and walked into the stable. It was somewhat more organized this time.

 

In a little bit of time, Allan moved the wooden boxes on top of each other, right around the furnace. With this, he had everything on hand. All he needed was to get familiar with it.

 

“You are quite fast, for a blind boy.” Sarey said as she appeared behind him.

 

“I would still prefer to be slow, but with my eyes.”

 

“You will have to work hard for that. That is not for a slow turtle.”

 

“Turtle? What is that?”

 

“You don't know? Little or bigger creatures, slow with thick shield-like armor around their body and back. They can even pull their heads into their shell.”

 

“Never heard of that. Sounds like something hard to hunt. Nature is truly a magical creature, isn't it?”

 

“I guess. There is someone to meet you.”

 

“Meet me? I doubt that. What is this about?” Allan asked cautiously.

 

“Follow me. Take your pole with you.”

 

Allan's curiosity was set in motion. He followed her to the courtyard.

 

“Here you are! Are you ready?” A familiar loud voice shouted not so far away.

 

Sarey couldn't help but find it, stranger and stranger. For him to be so enthusiastic about sparring with a blind boy was more concerning than anything else.

 

“Mister Zigmund? What is going on?” “I told you. You need someone more experienced. Little practice will be beneficial in the long term.” Sarey muttered in his ear.

 

“What? You never told him? You should have told him earlier. An unprepared man is a dead man.” Zigmund said sternly.

 

“Do you mean my spars with you? I mean... I found it stimulating enough. Did you ask your father to beat me up? How generous.” Allan unsurprised by the scheming of Sarey, said,

 

“Then try him. I dare you.”

 

Allan stood there, speechless. He did not expect this. His practice which was overseeing Sarey was something completely different from this idea of her.

 

Zigmund stood there as well. Frown on his face.

 

He tossed one wooden sword in a direction of Allan, who caught it with his face.

 

“You see? I am somewhat of a teacher myself. My daughter went with some similar training methods, so I guess it would not hurt you to do the same to you. Do you think you are prepared?” He said.

 

“Then I hope you will be patient with me, mister Zigmund.”

 

Seeing that there was a weird tension in the air. Sarey kept her distance away. She still moved in a sight of their spar.

 

“Well, boy. What are you going to do now?”

 

“Try my best,” Allan answered calmly.

 

“Best? Do you have any idea how many people I met who said that are alive or well?”

 

“Majority?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then I don't know how many careless people have you met, so far.”

 

“It seems the cleverness of my daughter got to you as well. What are you expecting? To become a fighter? Come back home?”

 

“Yes. I decided on that.”

 

“You did? You seem more like a rabbit, cornered into a hopeless situation.”

 

“You are exaggerating things, mister Zigmund. I want to become stronger and come back home. War took it away and I am not strong enough to even defend it. I hate myself for it.”

 

“War... Do you have some idea of it?” Zigmund kept asking him. It was quite a stretch to call this a spar. He was testing Allan for his conviction but was lost in a line of questions about what he was curious about.

 

“Not exactly. There are some glimpses of it I've seen.”

 

“Still, you survived it. I bet it was not that easy.”

 

“I had help.”

 

“Helpless boy who has got a lot of helpers, while himself is a mouse, ready to be caught.”

 

“Your words hit a sour spot in my heart, mister Zigmund. I thought about it a lot. While I did not expect Sarey to care so much about any of this. I shared some ideas and worries with her.”

 

“It is not about her. I am concerned about you, mainly.”

 

“Really? I wonder why... You are speaking a bit too much, don't you think, mister Zigmund?”

 

“Heheheh. I guess. Here it goes then. If you defeat me, you can drop the honorifics. I hate them since I left the military.” Zigmund jumped at Allan. He unsheathed his actual sword. Allan kept his defensive stance. Focusing on his hearing.

 

Swoosh!

 

Zigmund cleaved the surrounding air. A gust of wind punched Allan's face. He swung the wooden sword in a direction he thought Zigmund was in. Unfortunately, he hit the empty air that was forced upon him. Zigmund was still a few meters in front of him, in the middle of the second swing.

 

Allan had a hard time reacting to this. There were so many senses around him, which made it hard. He realistically realized that the sight was way too important to lose. Without it, there is a very steep confusion around the movements of everything around him. Wind, birds, rivers, people, and animals of all sorts. It was never quiet when it came to fights.

 

It was safe to say that, when fighting somebody, advantage and disadvantage, were deciding factors towards the victory.

 

And Allan had a deadly flaw that could be weaponized against him at any point in time. A fatal one, at that.

 

Zigmund was aware of it all too well. He wanted to test him but was secretly surprised by his composure. He held the sword in the right stance and posture. His swing was not the least bit strong, but that was what he went for.

 

“Again.”

 

Swoosh!

 

Another cleave moved to the left side of Allan. It intentionally missed him on purpose. Zigmund did not want to hurt him. He had never fought the blind man for real before. It would be plain bullying, so he had to come up with a method to get this right.

 

“What the... This feels surreal and completely different from the time I spent with my father.” Allan fell to the ground, as he missed his second swing as well.

 

What he felt was different from what he expected. Zigmund seems to be a much stronger fighter than just a regular soldier or even a mercenary of what he assumed to be his past profession. Sarey had some occasions where she told him a little bit about her father.

 

Meanwhile, Sarey was contemplating the sight she was looking at. Two swings with his sword pushed the wind forward. It cleaved through the ground around Allen.

 

“He is a terrible father.” She thought.

 

You are completely helpless, aren't you? Zigmund calmly said.

 

Allan got up to his feet with no trouble.

 

“What was that wind before? Are you actually using a sword?” Allan asked as he heard the clink of a drawn sword when the spar began.

 

“Yes. I am quite strong.” Zigmund smugly said.

 

“My turn,” Allan said in return, as he crouched down to adjust his next strategy.