Roy spent the remainder of the month training in the way of the sword, practicing his shooting skills, undergoing hormonal treatments, and taking all sorts of potions. He didn’t get much EXP in the process, but he managed to gain more control over his body, and he was also getting used to the hormones. The effects on his temper and personality were already weakening. In fact, he was starting to enjoy the feeling of unending strength.

He had the feeling something was growing within him. Something like a cocoon, or new strength. But Roy would have to finish the whole regime for that strength to finally show itself.

***

Letho upped the training intensity by a notch after a month.

As usual, Roy was in the yard, training. His posture was straight, and he stood with his legs apart.

“Same thing you’ve always done. Practice your form, footwork, slashes, thrusts, and cuts.”

Roy lunged ahead with his left leg, while his right foot pointed outward. It was a simple stance, but one that took Roy a while to master. His torso was upright, while his center of gravity was grounded between his legs. The lunge made sure he could stay balanced, while bending his knees made it easier for him to move around. His body was relaxed to prevent his shoulders from going stiff, or he’d miss his target.

He held his sword by his right thigh, the tip pointing at Letho’s throat. It was a basic close stance. Roy stared ahead coldly, then he slashed down diagonally before changing his leg for another lunge. He switched hands too, holding the sword at his left. 

***

Roy switched between forms and practiced his basics as he went. After a month of grueling training, he finally managed to nail the basics.

“Good. You’ve been working hard.” Letho nodded approvingly, then he asked, “Remember what I told you? Know why I only taught you the basics and left out the advanced techniques?”

“Because witchers are nimbler than humans. The basics would be enough to take them down,” Roy answered clearly. If the gap between two individuals was too wide, even a simple swipe would be enough to end them. Even Roy knew that much. “And those techniques wouldn’t work on monsters. The factors that decide the outcome are the fighter’s speed, strength, experience, and reflexes.”

The five forms, footwork, and basic skills were important for the witcher to tap into their strengths more, since they didn’t have to think about the more complex skills. And since they were mostly hunting monsters anyway, said complex skills wouldn’t come into play.

Letho tested his theoretical knowledge. “What is the core of swordsmanship?”

“Never just block the enemy’s attacks,” Roy answered. “Always counter the attack or defeat them with their own strength.” He paused for a moment. “And don’t even try to block any attacks from a stronger monster.”

He was reminded of Letho’s message. No matter how powerful a person is, it is impossible for them to block a dracolizard’s tail, a griffin’s claws, or a scorpion’s pincers.

“One should always evade those attacks.”

***

“Face me. Observe my movements, my stance, and how my muscles move. Think of me as a graveir.” Letho stood on all fours, imitating the monster.

Roy, as if on cue, described how the monster looked as he circled Letho, his legs crisscrossing. 

“Graveirs are a species of necrophage and a cousin of ghouls. Unlike their smaller cousins, graveirs can be distinguished by the three comb crowns on their head. They’re strong and nimble. Running away from them means certain death, but its fangs can cut through steel easily, so facing them head on is ill-advised. Their weakness is…” Roy suddenly stopped. He pointed his feet outward and raised his sword over his head, assuming the ox stance, the back of his leg pointing at Letho.

Then Letho pounced at Roy with a roar. The fallen leaves were blown into the air by the gale created by the jump. Letho charged ahead like a bull, his muscular arms outstretched. Roy’s hair was billowing from the wind, but he stood steadfast. He poked at Letho with the wooden sword before turning away, putting his weight on his left leg. He managed to dodge the attack by a hair’s breadth, then he put his right leg down.

Now! Roy thrusted his sword at Letho’s back, aiming for the artery of his neck, but Letho was faster. The witcher blocked the sword with his arm guard and held it. Roy wanted to let go of the sword, but before he could do that, Letho had already slammed against him. Then he was beaten up again.

The ground trembled slightly as Roy fell backward, his face pale. He clutched his chest in pain, feeling as if his insides had been rearranged. “Ow, that hurts. Be softer!”

“Pain is how you learn.” Letho wouldn’t let him go. Instead, he went closer and whispered, “I’m not Coral. I won’t show mercy just because you beg for it. And this makes your one hundred and fifty fourth death.”

“Enough. I’m telling Coral about this.” Roy finally found a way to shut Letho up. “I wonder if she’ll flush you down the sewers if she gets mad.”

Letho’s eyelid twitched. He let go of Roy and dusted his hands off. “This is for your own good. Get beaten up a few more times and you’ll have more of a chance to survive.” Letho had been pretending to be drowners, nekkers, kikimores, and foglers in their practice matches. Whenever Roy would win, Letho would suddenly raise his strength and beat Roy down.

“But you’ve been cheating in the battles.” Roy stood up and checked his armor. For some reason, it was torn. “You keep pulling all these surprises and beat me up in the end. Aren’t you worried I might just give up?”

“You aren’t that weak. Now don’t waste my time and keep practicing.”

The session went on for a few more hours. Naturally, Roy lost every battle. In the end, Roy couldn’t even stand up. He lay on the ground, staring up at the sky, breathing heavily.

For some reason, Letho didn’t ask him to stand up. Instead, he looked at Roy with interest before sitting down beside him. A short while of silence later, he said, “I remember that thing you did in Smiack, boy. You came back from the dead, and all your wounds were healed. Can you do that again?”

Letho was excited, but also worried. If Roy could use that skill in the trial, it would increase the chances of his survival. Of course, that meant he would pass the trial without a hitch.

Oh damn. Roy was put in a difficult spot. His days were packed with training and checkups, so there was barely any time for him to hunt in the forest. He was no professional hunter, and the beasts were trickier than he thought, so he only managed to glean a dozen EXP or so in a day. Right now, Roy was seven hundred EXP away from leveling up.

It would be nigh impossible to get enough EXP for his level up before the trial. He was also worried about that. If worse came to worst, he would ask Lytta to delay the trial for as long as possible. Can I tell him about that? Oh wait. He knows I have my own secrets. I guess there’s no need to hide this from him.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do it. Everything comes with a price, especially miracles. I paid a steep one to pull myself back from the dead.” He made it as vague as possible.

“What did you do?”

“There’s only one thing that can save me from death — blood. I must kill as many beasts and monsters as possible to use that skill again.” Roy didn’t tell him human lives would work too, since that’d make him seem evil.

Letho was still as inscrutable as ever, but the corner of his eyes were trembling. That alone was enough to say that he was shocked. “I see.” His eyes gleamed subtly with excitement. “That’s it for today’s training. You should see Coral now.”

Roy turned around, and he came eye to eye with Coral, who was at the yard’s entrance. The sorceress was waving at him, smiling elegantly.