Chương 202: Moonhand

We didn't get lunch that day. Since we already knew how to spar, Moonhand didn't have to focus so closely on the basics of spear fighting.

"This phase is not for your personalized combat training," he continued after testing our basic knowledge.

"It is, rather, for training you to fight as a unit. This may not be my area of expertise—that is on single combat—but I have experience that may be valuable to you nonetheless. For today, however, I am to help reintroduce you to fighting as a unit. Single Combat is for phase three.

"When sappers are required to fight in a pitched battle as a unit in a regular army, you will be given discretion where and how you are placed. Use it wisely. Often, you will be wiser than the commanders and thegns who are in control, and your impulses can save a battle. Your thegns may be Titaniums, but as Silvers, you should have significantly higher Focus, which lends itself to better tactical planning.

"For today, we will focus on how a spear-wielding sapper can benefit his squad, and how he can place himself in a larger army to best benefit them." Moonhand rattled off a list of terms, which I didn't understand at the moment, then snapped his fingers and pointed. Throughout the day, we practiced formations, taking turns simulating a regular army, and letting a sapper take a place in the middle of our formation, helping support it.

If we put him in the middle, he was better for pushing forward and trying to split enemy lines. If we put him on the edges, he was better to support the army against being outflanked. It wasn't the best simulation of a battle, since there were only ten of us, and our only opponent was Moonhand, but we needed the foundation. Besides, Moonhand was strong enough to simulate an enemy army on his own. I couldn't see what he did, but when he waved his spear, a wall of silver shields shimmered in the air in front of him.

A row of spears manifested out of nothing, held by invisible soldiers, creating a wall in front of us to clash against. It gave off a similar feeling to Sage's maegen. At first, I'd questioned whether this was the best form of training. I began, "Sir…" That, of course, was a guess. I had no idea if he was a thegn or not, or what the appropriate term of address for an elven lord was. Moonhand didn't correct me, so I continued on, "Sir, I've never seen orcs fighting in a formation like this.

Rarely do they have cohesive battle lines with spears and shields."

"If you can repel a cohesive formation like this, then you can repel anything the orcs throw at you," Moonhand returned.

"Do not aim for the lowest and easiest form of training, or you will never succeed. Besides…you never know when you might need to fight an army of men." I nodded.

"You, Sir Levi, had a reputation that exceeded comments like that. Do not make them again." I scowled. It was just a question. Still, I replied, "Sorry, sir," and watched my tongue more carefully throughout our training session. After that, whenever it was my turn, Moonhand attacked me far more vigorously than any of the other Dupes in our training group. It didn't miss me that, when the other soldiers simulated sappers, Moonhand only had them face artificial weapons.

His floating weapons, whatever they were, were robotic. Compared to Moonhand's movements, they were sluggish. When it was my turn to position myself in the simulated battle line, however, Moonhand faced me. He told me to attack, so I did. I tried cautious jabs with my training spear, while holding up my shield to protect myself. Every time, Moonhand swatted away my attacks with a twirl of his weapon, closed the distance, then mustered an oval shield and bashed me back with it.

Weren't we supposed to be practicing single combat later? I thought. I didn't say that out loud. In the evening, before sending us off to eat dinner, Moonhand stared at me and said, "You were supposed to be stronger, Sir Levi. The rumours about you, the thegned Atoning who managed to embed himself in the sappers, leading his squad to victory after victory? Where is he?"

"Sir, I—""You're being too cautious. Where are all the fighting styles you've learned? I see echoes of them. The Drillmaster tells me you've merged them into your main spear Skill, so they can't have disappeared. Tomorrow, I hope to see better things from you." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"Sir, the others—""Don't worry about the others. If all you care about is being better than them, you don't deserve your standing." I sighed.

"Understood, sir." ~ ~ ~ At dinner, I scarfed down as much food as I could get, trying to compensate for the lunch that Moonhand had made us miss, and trying to get his scolding out of my mind. I compensated by telling myself that I didn't like him very much. He may have been an elf, but he wasn't very graceful with his words.

"Sage," I asked between mouthfuls, "do you know why elves are immortal?"

"Hm?" she asked.

"What brings that up?"

"Is it the same thing that causes them to…I dunno. Explain nothing and be a little bit annoying all the time?"

"Had a good day at training today, did you?" Anchor asked.

"Owl also hinted at it, to be fair," I tried.

"He's gotten a hint of what it feels like when someone pushes him as hard as he pushes us," Sage teased. I sighed.

"I push myself just as hard…"

"Comparitively, then, in terms of willpower," Anchor said.

"Arguably, our wills are weaker than Levi's, so him pushing us as much as he pushes himself feels insane to us. Someone pushing him harder than his willpower can handle makes him feel the same way." I grimaced and glanced down at my plate, then tightened my grip on my cutlery. No way was I just going to run out of willpower. Nuh uh. Not happening. Moonhand wasn't going to beat me.

"I too am curious about the nature of elves, brothers," Brawl interjected.

"I don't know all their secrets," Sage said.

"But I do know that they're capable of wielding vorghul, where men aren't. They're said to possess mae and vorghul in equal measures in their flesh, staving off decay, while also making them cold and removed. It makes him, perhaps, the best teacher for Levi."

"Why? Someone cold—""Someone unflinching," Sage corrected herself.

"We'll see in time, though, dustbrain. You haven't gotten a chance to take part in single combat training yet. Something tells me you'll enjoy that far more."

"We'll see…" I muttered. ~ ~ ~ That evening, Croak arrived on my windowsill. I opened it, letting him in, and he hopped down to the floor below, carrying a rolled-up letter. I pulled it off his foot, then unfolded it and read it. Dear Levi, I will admit, addressing a letter with 'dear' is not a typical custom for a princess. But perhaps it is a custom of your world, and I must admit, I like the ring of it. It flows nicely off my pen. By the time you receive this letter, Arnulf should be arriving any time.

He requests to meet you on the thirtieth of the month—in one or two days, depending on how fast Croak has flown. Arnulf wishes to meet you in 'the alcove beside the castle's main gate' (as he put it) at sunset. When you meet him, present your very best appearance and show him that you are capable of maintaining the station of Ealdorman with your manners. He is, for all intents and purposes, a very traditional man, as though his customs came from thousands of years ago.

He does not show it well, but I know you will pass the test. Once you do, Arnulf will return and advocate for you on the Witenagemot. From my sources, I hear that there are already rumours that Hinlaw will need replacing. He has a reputation of weakness, now that his lands are dwindling. The Witenagemot is already discussing plans to choose a successor once Hinlaw is inevitably slain. That won't make your job any easier, however. You will still need to interrupt the line of succession.

Fear not; his two remaining male heirs are both adults, and they are deathly loyal to the Warlord and Hinlaw. If you slay them, then slay Hinlaw himself, you will have a clean path to ascension. Of course, assuming you win Arnulf's favour. I know you have reservations about killing them. It's admirable, but it is necessary, and you can take solace knowing they are the same sort of man as Hinlaw is.

Now, already, I can anticipate your next line of questioning: if the Warlord controls Hinlaw, will he take an interest in the replacement? If all goes according to plan, all the Warlord will know is that the Witenagemot appointed a successor to the region they thought capable of executing his plan. Arnulf will convince those who require convincing that you are on the Warlord's side. Anyone with rebellious sentiments, he will convince of your rebellious nature. He will say what he needs to get you appointed.

If the Warlord receives no warning about your plans, he will simply be under the impression that someone has succeeded Lord Hinlaw, someone that the Witenagemot trusts. He does not yet know about you. As long as none of the Subtle Men learn of you, everything will proceed smoothly. As for your last letter's comment: I'm very glad you trust in my artistic vision. As for ideas for your house's sigil? You may be partial to a raven, so I have a suggestion that stays inline with that.

When I think of you, I imagine Croak arriving at my window, carrying the flower you mailed me. Your crest should be a raven carrying a wild rose. That is all I have for now. I look forward to your response. These days, I need everything I can get to brighten my day. The Warlord has been gathering suitors, and I will eventually have to meet them. I will be required to marry one and continue the bloodline—for appearances, and little more. In your letter, would you write about your training?

Or perhaps, you could tell me more tales of your squad's Labyrinth runs. I am looking for anything to dream about to help pass the boredom. All the best, Alis I rolled up the letter, then glanced out the window. I grimaced, then decided that I'd wait until morning to send my response. I had a lot to think about, and I knew Croak could wait.