Loopbreaker

[ Trial of Training Initiated ]

[ Step 1 Completed ]

[ Step 2 Completed ]

[ Step 3 Completed ]

[ 1 Strength Gained ]

[ 2 Endurance Gained ]

[ Trial of Training Boon - Acquired ]

[ Trial of Training - While the three rings are equipped, all skill gains are tripled. Leaving a safe space with rings may result in death if Endurance is too low. ]

“I… Stats and a boon?”

A whistle came from Kels.

“Stats? Nice! Now let’s hurry up and get the rest of the items on. We don’t have all night. Some of us must fight in the morning.”

As Francis stood there, reading the notifications again, the general handed him a pair of leather bracers.

“Put these on. They will help with the healing.”

Francis slid the leather bracer over his right arm and reached for the strap to tighten it. The bracer began to shrink slightly when he touched it, becoming snug on his forearm. “What the—” he asked, eyes widening as the equipment moved.

“Magic,” Stenson said, holding out the second. “Kels is right. Hurry up. We have one more thing after this one.”

After slipping the last one on and watching it shrink as well, Francis saw a pair of green boots that appeared to be made from a type of leather he didn’t recognize.

“Last item,” the general said. “This will also help with the healing.”

“Why are we talking about so much healing? How bad am I going to get hurt?”

Grinning, Stenson tossed the boots to Francis and moved to the edge of the square, where Dawn now stood. “You’ll find out. Hurry up and get a sword and shield. You’ll need to see what I mean.”

Sitting down, Francis quickly undid the old pair of boots and slid the new ones on, watching as they seemed to conform around his feet.

These things are more comfortable than anything I have ever worn.

Pain bloomed in his shoulder as he stared at the boots. Snapping his head to the right, Francis saw the metal tip of Kels’s sword being withdrawn from the flesh of his shoulder.

“Never take your eyes off of me,” Kels said.

“What the…You stabbed me!”

“And you’re healing,” the knight replied. “Time is our enemy, and you need to train.”

Francis rose, glancing at the spot in his new shirt where blood had appeared. He stuck a finger in the hole, finding that the wound had already closed.

“I don’t suppose I can wear these outside of here?” Francis asked, motioning to the boots and bracers.

Chuckling, the knight shook his head. “No… Now grab that shield and sword. We need to train, and I want to see what you can do.”

Backing to the square's edge, Francis took the sword and shield he had located a moment earlier and prepared himself. “Now what?”

“Move to the center of the square and attack or defend. Either way, we’ll keep going until I get tired, Dawn makes me stop, or you manage to cut me.”

Nodding, Francis obeyed, staying low and remembering the techniques he had learned here the first time with Kels.

The moment Francis’ feet hit the middle of the square, the knight attacked, weapon slashing, hacking, and thrusting. Before Francis could react, the blade had pierced his stomach.

Pain came again, yet seconds after the weapon was pulled free, the pain vanished.

“Francis froze, looking at his stomach.

“You’re fine,” Kels said, a grin on his face. “Now attack and show me you’re serious about wanting to learn!”

Something inside Francis clicked. He saw that the knight looked giddy, excited about training like this.

All this time I’ve wanted to get better… Now I finally can!

Like an animal that was finally released from a cage, he attacked.

***

“Stop!” Dawn’s voice carried across the tent, and Kels backed away immediately as Francis’ hand moved to where the blade had sliced into his neck.

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He could feel blood between his fingers. His sword was a few yards away, freed from his hand by the knight’s talent with a blade.

A glow surrounded him as Dawn grumbled.

“You men are idiots… though I guess it’s not just men. I’ve had my fair share of healing women as well.”

“Vella?” Francis asked once his neck had finally returned to normal.

She nodded and frowned. “You sure you can keep going? It’s been almost four hours.”

“I’m not giving up!” Francis exclaimed. “My skill is almost thirty!”

Shaking her head, the healer rolled her eyes and moved back to where she had been standing the whole time.

Eyes locked on Kels, Francis moved to where his sword lay on the dirt, bending down while never losing sight of the man, who he knew wouldn’t have a problem taking advantage of that moment.

“I’m ready,” Francis said as his sword’s tip rose.

“Then show me.”

Attacking wasn’t his problem, and Francis was beginning to understand that now.

Each swing and thrust had value, but the longer he fought with Kels, the more he realized that the shield wasn’t helping him like he had hoped.

It had already reached a skill of twenty-six, but the knight’s sword skill was well beyond his ability to block, so all that meant was that he had an object that provided no offensive capacity.

Or does it?

He was starting to see how much he used the shield for nothing but hiding behind. All that did was allow Kels to use his legs or hands to kick Francis or pull the shield, and thus put him out of position.

Grinning, Francis went all in.

Slashing at the knight’s leg, he rotated the shield till it was flat, punching the light metal shield at Kels’s upper body the moment the blade moved to parry.

Francis could see a smile appear on his opponent's face when he had to raise an arm, accepting the blow against it.

Francis didn’t wait. He thrust his sword, kicked with his leg, and swung the shield all at the same time, going on the offensive for the first time and feeling like he could sense a shift in the fight.

Each attack forced the knight to move, accept a kick, or deflect the shield with his arm.

A pattern came, and knowing the dangers of patterns, Francis repeated it a third time, setting a trap he hoped might work. Knowing there would be an opening when the fourth repeat started, selling the feint as best as possible.

Sure enough, his leg was extended, ready to kick, yet instead of doing so, Francis tossed the shield at Kels’s face.

The knight ducked, arm rising as his sword aimed for the leg, but Francis attacked with his fist this time. He hoped it would work, and for a single second he believed his hand was going to connect with Kels’s jaw.

Like a predator that had toyed with its meal, the blond-haired warrior’s body moved with a speed that came from stats far beyond Francis’s. Kels’s body twisted, neck and head moving just a half inch away from the fist before coming forward and slamming into the sage’s face.

A crunching sound filled Francis’s ears and stars appeared, followed by more pain in his stomach.

“Stop!” Dawn shouted.

Blinking and coughing, he tried to focus on what had happened, feeling the overwhelming amount of agony in his body everywhere.

[ Swordsmanship Skill Increased - 30 Proficient ]

“Oh hell no,” Kels said as Dawn drew close. “My father isn’t going to let me live this down.”

Francis couldn’t see what Kels was talking about; tears had formed on their own, something one's eyes did upon getting a broken nose.

“Hold still,” the healer said as she held Francis’ head—all the pain vanished again. “What are you talking about?”

“Look,” the knight replied, pointing to his left leg. “Francis nicked me.”

Finally able to see after wiping away the wetness, Francis realized there was the slightest cut on the man’s leather pants and a tiny trickle of blood.

“I’m pretty sure you won’t die from that. I mean, you probably cut yourself worse while shaving,” Dawn said.

Laughing, Kels nodded and shrugged. “My father won’t care either way.”

“Nehemiah loves you, you know that?” Francis asked.

The smile and jovial expression on the knight vanished, and he stood there, jaw slightly open and with a perplexed look.

“How…”

“My Sage skill. Just know he’s proud of you, even if he doesn’t say it. If you don’t believe me, ask those who know him. It’s plain to see.”

A snort came from Dawn, and both men turned to see her nodding. “Oh, that look is priceless, but the young sage is right. Nehemiah is very proud of you, Knight Kels. Even if he doesn’t have a clue how to tell you, that man loves you.”

Rubbing his chin, the blond-haired warrior nodded. “Thanks… for that. More than you know.”

“Trust me, as a ninth son, I can only imagine what it might feel like to wonder how my father really feels about me. I know he doesn’t act like I exist, or maybe he even wishes I didn’t. Still… I did reach a level thirty in my Swordsmanship.”

Grinning, Kels moved to where Francis stood and held out his hand. “Good work. Now listen. You must remove the rings in the same order you put them on. I’ll help you put them away, and then we’ll remove the other items. From there, Dawn and I will help you to a tent to rest because… you’re going to crash. Hard.”

“Is it that bad?”

“You have no idea,” the healer replied after snapping her fingers, and one of them came forward with the first box. “Those rings… they… are beyond dangerous. Had you two not stopped now, I would have forced you to quit soon. The demand they have on one’s body is…”

Francis waited for her to finish, but Dawn just stood there, frowning with her head cocked sideways.

“She is saying you can’t use them for a while. Perhaps once a month at the most.”

“Once a month?! How the hell am I supposed to keep growing in swordsmanship skill?” Francis asked as he stared down at the knight.

“If we’re still alive in a month, you can go again,” Kels replied. “Trust me, getting a higher-level skill isn’t going to matter from where we are right now. Battle is usually the only way one gets stronger. The system knows that the growth comes much slower if you aren’t risking or pushing the boundaries.”

His jaw moved, yet no words came out as Francis dealt with the knowledge that he couldn’t train with these rings regularly.

This was supposed to be easy! I should continue to improve and enhance my skills, but if I’m unable to do so…

“Francis?” Kels’s voice made him stop the line of thinking he was going through and he turned to see the man studying him. “Why do you look like you're not happy with gaining four points in a skill? I mean, you increased your skill as well as your stats, yet…”

“It’s not enough.”

“It’s never enough,” Dawn said with a groan. “You sound like one of those fools who give up living a real life, all to pursue stats and skills.”

“We call those people dedicated,” the knight answered. “Sometimes, one forgets that we don’t all grow by simply healing those of us stupid enough to choose such a path.

The middle-aged woman shook her head and then displayed a middle finger at Kels.

“You forget, I wouldn’t need to have this kind of power if men like you didn’t keep rushing into situations like this.”

“And we would all be dead,” Kels replied, “if men like me didn’t have the skills I possess.”

Both of them locked eyes, frowned, and almost snarled, seeming as if this discussion had occurred multiple times.

“You two need to either stop fighting or admit you like each other,” Francis stated. “Either way, I need to take all this shit off.”

As one, the pair coughed and glared at Francis, who grinned and held out the red ring.

“It’s a good thing you’re a sage; otherwise, I’d challenge you to a duel,” Kels stated.

“You could do that, but somehow, I doubt killing me would have the impact you’re hoping for.”

“Idiots,” Dawn mumbled as she placed the ring into the box. “Not even afraid of death.”