Loopbreaker

Francis cracked his neck before the fight began. He pressed his boot against the stone beneath, glad it didn’t feel slick.

Captain Lucan looked relaxed, thumb idly rubbing the guard on his sword. His padded armor looked well-worn, yet there wasn’t a single fray or mark on it.

Francis moved first, knowing this was what his instructor was hoping for. Kels had done the same, letting Francis show what he had before the real training could begin.

His shield punched forward, an obvious feint as he tried to draw the Captain’s guard left, while his sword swung down in a low diagonal attack at the man’s thigh. Metal rang out as Lucan angled his shield, stopping the blade completely.

Even as his attack failed, Francis moved to the side — Lucan’s sword traveled over the top, the flat of the blade coming at Francis’s head.

He wanted to shout and protest that just moments ago, the man had clearly stated he wouldn’t go for the head, but didn’t bother. Two could play at that game.

Setting his feet again, Francis slid back just a bit, using the momentum of his movement and his hips to press the attack.

No wasted energy… don’t show off…

Lessons drilled into him by Kels and moments on the battlefield.

His shield slammed into Lucan’s, and he brought his foot down at the man’s feet, watching the Captain slide backward, never losing his balance or position as Francis attacked..

Francis moved to his right, trying to get around the older man, but even with his stats, he couldn’t get a free attack on Lucan’s back or side.

The Captain’s blade thrust forward multiple times, vibrations coming through Francis’ shield; each strike grew in power, another obvious test to see what Francis could handle and deflect.

A slight noise tickled his ears as those gathered around cheered and shouted, but there was no time to focus on that. Like the fights with the beastkins, he had to keep his attention on the man who was now unleashing a combination of sword strikes.

Francis used combos, slicing down and across. His blade then turned into a sideways slice that stopped mid-swing and thrust forward. Each attack was parried or deflected as Lucan used the space they had to shift his position.

“Come at me! Stop dancing!” the older man called out.

Knowing that if he continued to play on the defensive, Lucan would easily take him down at some point, Francis obeyed the command and went on the attack.

He worked through every combination he knew, as well as some that came to him in the moment. At the time of his choosing, Francis found the chance he’d been hoping for and took it.

[ Power Strike ]

The sound of his sword striking the Captain’s shield rang out, and he could see a smile form on the older man’s lips. It provided just enough room for him to shove his shield into the Captain and swing again. Francis played his trump card again, having only learned in the last few loops that he had the physical strength and endurance to use it twice in a minute.

[ Power Strike ]

[ Power Strike Increased – 10 Basic ]

The drain of the skill, used in rapid succession, was overwhelming.

The older man’s sword moved to parry, but the force behind his attack forced Lucan’s blade downward. Francis’ blade struck the Captain’s thigh.

A small cut appeared on the armor, and red began to appear.

Before Francis could celebrate, Lucan’s blade moved so quickly he couldn’t track it—pain came from both thighs as the tip of the blade pierced each in succession.

“STOP!” his instructor roared.

A gong sounded, and each man stepped back, blood on their armor and a smile on both of their faces.

“Impressive!” the Captain roared. “Healers!” Lucan stepped forward, smiling. “You not only have the Power Strike ability but also can use it back-to-back. Most cannot imagine the toll it takes to do that.”

“What… what was that?” Francis asked, catching his breath, “What did you use on me?”

“Ahh, Quick Attack. It’s a valuable skill that can evade someone's defense. While it won’t do as much damage as Power Strike, sometimes you just need to make them bleed. Had I wanted to make you suffer, I would have used it in conjunction with Power Strike. That combination is one that can end lives.”

Francis felt a hand grab his arm and saw an older woman smile. “Let me heal you, and then you two can talk fighting once that is done.”

“But I’m older!” Lucan teased. “Fine… heal him. The rest of you take five minutes and consider what you saw. Think about the skills you witnessed. When you fight, think about overpowering your enemy with a strong attack or being quick and sacrificing damage for speed. If you focus on one of those for long enough and practice, you might just acquire the needed skill!”

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When the sensation was gone and the woman patted him on his arm, Francis waited for the Captain to be healed.

Think… focus. I wonder if all the skills are like that.

“So, the General sends me a student with abilities and skills who says he shouldn’t be in this class but the one after it,” Lucan said. “It makes me wonder why he has you here instead of in the battle, but I can also guess why.”

“What do you think his reason is?” Francis asked.

“He sees potential and would rather not waste the talent. I haven’t seen him do something like this since a blond-haired and blue-eyed boy came through.”

“Knight Kels?”

Lucan chuckled and nodded. “He wasn’t a Knight then, and that title is a bit… overdramatic. We don’t actually use that term often for many reasons. Still, know that the General sees something in you worth growing. Now, don’t come to this class again. Talk to Dorian and tell him I want you in the intermediate version of this class.”

“Yes, sir!” Francis exclaimed.

The older man patted Francis on the shoulder before turning and yelling again.

“Two minutes and then prepare to go again!”

Standing there, Francis wondered just what the other class might bring.

Still, I did get a point in Power Strike, which is always nice.

Content with that moment, he turned to see his previous sparring partner frowning.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hit you like that,” Francis said.

***

“Where did you learn to fight?”

“How long have you been training?”

“Do you have any other skills?”

Francis did his best to smile and ignore most of the questions asked. The group of students gathered around him seemed not to care that what they asked was considered rude.

“I just go all out every time,” Francis said. “No secret except that. Every fight is a fight to the death in my mind.”

A few grunts and groans came from the ones gathered at his table, but some nodded, giving thoughtful looks to his advice.

From behind the group came a cough, and then the young men parted upon whatever figure was behind them.

Francis froze, seeing a trio of women in robes standing there, the one in front someone he hadn’t been sure would ever show up.

“Trina,” he said with a slight nod of his head. “You look well.”

She frowned and then looked at the boys standing around. “Go.”

Like animals before a predator, they took off, a few losing plates or trays, but not stopping to pick them up.

His sister moved toward him and did something with her fingers, the tips glowing for a moment as she sat across from him. “Why are you here, Francis?” she asked.

“Nice to see you too. For a moment, I thought at least one of my siblings would be happy to see me.”

Her frown deepened as her lips pressed together, and she sighed. “You do realize that Aiden has already told Father you are here.”

“I don’t give a crap. I don’t care if Father knows. This has nothing to do with him.”

She cocked her head sideways and shook it slightly. “You… always fought against the norm. So many accept it, but not you.”

“He tried to kill Michael.”

“But Michael’s not his son,” Trina stated.

“And yet Michael saved my life. That should have been enough.”

“That is the only reason why Father let him live as long as he did,” Trina replied.

He was always amazed at her lack of emotion. She could understand things from multiple perspectives, but in the end, she always went with whatever was most logical.

“How is Michael?” she asked.

“He is well. Do you really care?”

“Only because you do,” she replied.

Groaning, Francis picked up a piece of meat with his fork and pointed it at her. “So I hear you’re good with magic. Rumor is, you’ve progressed to the advanced level in something.”

She blinked a few times as he deposited the food in his mouth and chewed.

“I have grown stronger, and the family is enjoying the perks of my growth. Still, there is much for me to learn. But thank you for telling me that word of my success has spread.”

Swallowing his food, Francis pointed the empty fork at her. “You’re still the same. You can’t even smile when something would make most people grin like a fool. I don’t think you even cried the one time you got hurt.”

“I’ve been hurt many times, but no I’ve never cried. What is the point? I was healed, and the pain taught me to prepare for life and how to overcome what others quit at. It is one of the reasons I’ve come to understand the path I am on.”

“So does this mean you’re soon going to go help with the war?”

“That is not a wise choice,” Trina said. “Please stop talking about the war while you are here, or things will get… harder for you.”

“Harder? Is it worse than being across the hall from Derrek? Or having Aiden come and threaten me in public? How much worse can this get?”

“You could die if you're lucky. Worse, you could get maimed in a way you cannot be healed from.”

He sat there, stunned, watching his sister keep a blank face through the description as if she were reading off a shopping list. “You’re serious?”

“When am I not?” Trina asked.

“Like… I mean…” He paused, rubbing his forehead. “Why? Why does no one talk about the war?”

“Do you know about the Concord of Staves?”

“That’s the second time someone’s mentioned it, but no, I know nothing about it.”

“I assumed as much. You won’t receive any real knowledge about it for a few years. The lectures they give at your level are basically filtered history. Just know a charter was signed and the mages are not required to fight even when summoned by the King. Yes, there are some consequences for those actions, but none of them are worse than fighting in a battle where one might die.

“Besides,” Trina continued, “most of the sect of all mages agree to limit their obedience, thus diminishing any potential punishment lest all stop assisting.”

Her silver eyes seemed lifeless, yet they held a wealth of knowledge behind them.

A thought rose—so with nothing to lose, Francis went for it. “Pricilla Obst… Obstou…”

“Obsterano. Yes, what about her?”

“She’s bound to the king in some way, and it sometimes feels like she resents it. Does that have anything to do with the Concord thing?”

The slightest lip movement appeared, which made Francis nearly laugh, knowing that was the closest she had ever come to a smile.

“You’re smarter than I expected,” Trina stated. “Yes. She is bound by something signed in that charter. While I cannot say if she is resentful, I can imagine if I were forced to do the bidding of a King and not be allowed to pursue my own path, I too might be resentful after two hundred or more years.”

Francis coughed, clearing his throat a few times.

“She’s over two hundred years old?” Francis gasped.

“It is for this reason I cast a silence spell around us. You were always so… loud. But yes, she is. While I cannot be certain, I think I remember…” His sister closed her eyes, and he could see them moving behind her lids. Seconds passed before she opened them.

“Yes, I remember reading a book I don’t believe I was supposed to have when I was in a section of the library where most are not allowed. She was there at the charter's signing, which means she is well over three hundred years old, actually.”

“Holy shi--wow.”

“Thank you for that attempt. You haven't forgotten how much I dislike that kind of vulgar language. Derrek never stops himself, and it is a chore to endure his childish behavior.”

Francis leaned forward and smiled. “You know, out of all my siblings--not counting Michael--I probably liked you the most.”

“I know. It’s because you always knew where I stood. Besides, you told me those exact words eight years ago.”