I watched her for a moment, impressed by her quiet determination. Despite the teasing from her friends, Yuna was serious about becoming stronger. And somehow, that made her presence here more significant to me than just an ordinary visit.
As Yuna practiced, I resumed my own training, but now, a part of my focus shifted toward her. The familiar sound of her dagger cutting through the air seemed to blend with the rhythm of my own movements, creating an odd sense of harmony between us.
For a while, we trained together in silence, each of us pushing ourselves a little harder than before. Neither of us said much, but there was an unspoken understanding between us, the kind that comes from shared moments of quiet, personal growth.
And deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that this, too, was something to cherish.
The sound of Yuna's dagger slicing through the air echoed through the training grounds as she practiced her technique. I watched her for a moment, noting the determination in her movements and the way her eyes were focused on the target. She had come a long way since our first encounter. The sharpness and precision with which she wielded the dagger were impressive, but there was still room for improvement.
"You're doing well," I said, my voice calm but thoughtful. I watched as Yuna made another swift strike at the dummy, a look of concentration on her face.
Yuna glanced over her shoulder, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead.
"Thanks, but I know I still need to improve. I'll get there."
I nodded, my gaze shifting toward one of the nearby weapons racks. A wooden practice sword rested there, looking sturdy and well-used. I paused for a moment before speaking again, my voice taking on a more thoughtful tone.
"You know, Yuna, I think you might want to try something else," I said, the suggestion clear in my words.
"You're good with daggers, but maybe you'd be even better with a sword."
She raised an eyebrow, her grip tightening slightly around her dagger.
"A sword? Why would I switch? I'm focusing on the daggers."
I took a slow step toward the weapon rack, my gaze never leaving her. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the hesitation. She was determined to master the dagger, but there was something more to it, something deeper that I wanted to bring out.
"Daggers are quick, and they require finesse. But they're limited in certain situations. The sword, on the other hand, is a versatile weapon. It can be used for both offense and defense," I explained, my voice taking on a mature, almost philosophical quality.
"In the future, you never know what kind of opponents or situations you might face. Mastering a variety of weapons, not just one, will make you more adaptable. It'll give you an edge when you least expect it."
I paused, running my fingers along the handle of the wooden sword as memories flickered in my mind. In my past life, I had trained with every weapon that existed, swords, axes, bows, even whips and war fans. There was no weapon I hadn't at least learned the fundamentals of. But among them all, polearms were where my true mastery lay. The reach, the control, the devastating power they could unleash; no other weapon felt as natural in my hands as a spear, halberd, or, most of all, my scythe.
Nocturnis.
That weapon had become an extension of my soul. No matter how skilled I became with anything else, my scythe had always been the strongest, the deadliest weapon in my arsenal. But even with that truth, I had never allowed myself to be limited to just one style. I had learned, adapted, and mastered countless techniques across all forms of combat, and it had saved me and my team more times than I could count.
And now, looking at Yuna, I knew she had that same potential.
"I'm not saying you have to give up the dagger," I continued, my voice steady.
"But learning the sword could make you stronger, strong enough to stand your ground no matter what happens."
Yuna blinked, the weight of my words settling in her mind. She had always focused on the daggers because they felt natural to her, but I could see the doubt creeping in. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.
"But why the sword?" she asked, her voice hesitant but curious.
"Why not just stick with what I know?"
I took a step closer to the weapon rack, my fingers lightly grazing the hilt of the wooden sword. I looked over my shoulder, meeting her gaze.
"Because, in the end, you don't know what the future holds. Learning something new and stepping outside your comfort zone might be exactly what you need. A sword is a weapon of balance, strength, and reach. It could complement your skill with daggers."
Yuna stayed silent for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered my words. My voice had a way of making everything sound so simple, so clear. My mature outlook on things always seemed to make her think deeper, to see beyond her immediate goals.
"Alright, I'll give it a try," she finally said, her voice soft but resolute.
"But only because you think I should."
I smiled, my usual calm demeanor returning.
"I'm not saying it'll be easy, but it's worth exploring. The more you know, the more you can handle. Trust me on this one."
Yuna nodded, walking over to the practice sword with a mix of uncertainty and excitement. As she gripped the hilt, I could see her feeling its weight in her hands, the unfamiliar balance of it, and for the first time, the possibility of a new challenge.
I stood by, watching her closely, my expression softening as I saw her take the first steps toward something new. There was a quiet pride in me as I observed her, but I said nothing, allowing her to find her own rhythm.
As Yuna began her first attempts at wielding the sword, I stood at a distance, offering gentle advice when needed. There was something almost natural about the way she adjusted, as if her previous experience with the dagger had given her a solid foundation for learning this new weapon. Each time the sword swung through the air, it felt a little more fluid, a little more instinctive.
After a few moments, Yuna paused and looked back at me, a smile forming on her face.
"I think I'm starting to get the hang of it. It's… different, but I see what you mean."
I nodded, my expression serious but approving.
"It'll take time. Don't rush it. Mastery comes with patience."
Yuna grinned, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.
"Well, looks like I have a lot to learn, huh?"
My lips curved slightly upward.
"That's the way it is for all of us."
****
The training continued, and I could feel myself growing alongside Tatsuo, united by a shared sense of purpose. Though our paths were different, the bond we were forming was unmistakable, one built on trust, understanding, and the quiet strength that came from facing challenges together.
I gripped the practice sword tightly, my knuckles whitening as I adjusted my stance. The weight and balance of the weapon were still foreign to me, but there was something about it that I found myself strangely drawn to. I took a deep breath, letting the rhythm of my breathing calm my nerves. The morning breeze brushed against my face, and the chirping of distant birds filled the silence around us.
Tatsuo stood nearby, his arms crossed as he watched me. I could feel his eyes on me as I made small adjustments, my foot placement becoming steadier, my grip a little more natural. It was almost like I wasn't just adjusting to the sword, but syncing with it in some way.
"Alright," I muttered to myself, my voice quiet but resolute.
"Let's see how this feels."
I stepped forward, swinging the wooden blade in a smooth arc. The motion felt awkward at first, but then it began to flow with an elegance that startled even me. The weight of the sword no longer felt like a hindrance. Instead, it seemed to guide me, like it was an extension of my body.
I caught a glimpse of Tatsuo from the corner of my eye. His gaze sharpened, a flicker of curiosity passing through him. I could sense it, he saw something different in me now. My strikes became faster, more deliberate. I twirled the sword in my hands, testing its balance, and then performed a downward slash followed by a spinning side strike. The sound of the wooden blade cutting through the air was sharp and precise.
"Not bad," Tatsuo commented, his voice calm, but I could hear the surprise in it.
"You're picking this up faster than I expected."
I glanced at him briefly, a bead of sweat rolling down my temple.
"I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice tinged with confusion.
"It's weird. It feels… familiar. Like I've done this before."
Tatsuo's expression shifted, and for a brief moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes, like he understood something I didn't.
Could it be? I thought to myself.
Is this my latent talent awakening?
I had heard stories before from Sister Mari of warriors who seemed destined for their weapons, wielding them with unnatural ease despite little training. But this? This felt different. It wasn't just natural talent; it was like something deep within me had been stirred awake.
"Go with it," Tatsuo urged, his voice steady.
"Don't overthink it. Let the sword guide you."
I nodded, my grip tightening on the hilt. I shifted into a stance that I hadn't consciously learned, but somehow felt instinctual, one that mirrored the techniques of master swordsmen I had seen in the past. I lunged forward, delivering a series of fluid strikes that transitioned seamlessly into defensive parries. The movements felt too advanced for someone who had never even held a sword before.
I heard Tatsuo's sharp intake of breath as he watched me, and for a moment, I thought my heart might stop. He was silent, but his gaze was intense, almost like he was watching something unfold that he hadn't expected. My movements were no longer tentative. Each strike felt more sure, more powerful, more in tune with the sword. It was like I knew exactly what I was doing.
As I finished with a sweeping strike, the sword's edge came to rest mere inches from the training dummy's neck. I stood frozen, my chest rising and falling as I caught my breath. The intensity in my eyes slowly faded, replaced by a mixture of awe and confusion.
"I…" I started, looking down at the wooden blade in my hands.
"How did I…? That felt so natural."
Tatsuo approached me, his expression calm but thoughtful.
"It's like I said before," he began, his voice low.
"Sometimes, we don't know our full potential until we step out of our comfort zones. The sword… it might be calling to you."
I blinked, my cheeks flushing slightly as I glanced up at him.
"Calling to me? That sounds… kind of dramatic, don't you think?"
Tatsuo chuckled softly, and the sound made something warm spread through me.
"Maybe. But there's no denying it, what you just did wasn't normal. You've got something special, Yuna. Don't ignore it."
I looked down at the sword again, my fingers brushing along its surface. There was something about holding it that felt right. It was different from the daggers, less about precision and speed, more about strength and balance. But it resonated with me in a way I couldn't explain. It felt like it was mine, like we were meant to be together.
"Do you really think I could be good at this?" I asked softly, my voice laced with uncertainty.
Tatsuo nodded firmly.
"You're not just good, you've got potential to be great. But potential is only the first step. The rest is up to you."
I tightened my grip on the sword, a surge of determination flooding back into me.
"Alright, then. If you think I can do it, I'll give it everything I've got."
Tatsuo smiled, a rare warmth in his expression.
"That's the spirit."
****
For the next hour, Yuna and I continued training, and I could see her pushing herself harder with each swing of the sword. Though she stumbled at times, her progress was undeniable. I guided her with gentle corrections and encouragement, and I couldn't help but feel a growing admiration for her with every moment.
As the sun climbed higher into the sky, casting its golden light across the training grounds, I felt a deep sense of pride. Yuna wasn't just my childhood friend, she was becoming a warrior in her own right. And in that moment, I knew she would play a vital role in the battles to come.
But I also knew that this was just the beginning. Whatever had awakened within her today was only the tip of the iceberg. There was more to her than either of us could understand yet, and I couldn't wait to see how far she would go.
As the warm morning transitioned into mid-morning, Yuna and I stood side by side in the training grounds, our breathing heavy from the intense session. Yuna wiped the sweat from her brow, her cheeks slightly flushed, not just from the exercise, but from a sense of pride in her progress.
"That was a good session," I said, breaking the quiet.
"You're improving faster than I expected."
She smiled, a glint of determination in her eyes.
"I have a good teacher," she replied, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"We should head back," I said, gesturing toward the orphanage in the distance.
"Class will start soon. And if we're late, Sister Mari will definitely notice."
Yuna sighed, a hint of reluctance in her voice as she glanced at the sword still in her hand.
"Alright. But… can we train again later?"
I gave a small nod.
"Of course. We'll keep at it."
With that, we began our walk back to the orphanage. The village around us was alive with activity, children playing in the fields, merchants setting up stalls in the market, and the gentle hum of chatter filling the air. The peaceful atmosphere was a stark contrast to the chaos and danger I'd experienced in my past life, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of gratitude for this second chance.
Yuna glanced at me as we walked, and I could sense her mind still lingering on the strange connection she felt with the sword. There was something about the way I encouraged her, how I seemed to believe in her even when she doubted herself. It was a comforting yet unfamiliar feeling for her, one that made her chest feel oddly warm, I'm sure.
By the time we reached the orphanage, most of the other children were already gathered in the classroom. The room was modest but cozy, with wooden desks lined up neatly and a large chalkboard at the front. Sister Mari stood by the board, her kind eyes surveying the room as she waited for everyone to settle.
Yuna and I slipped into the room quietly, taking our usual seats. I sat near the back, my preference for observing rather than participating evident, while Yuna joined her friends closer to the front. Her friends gave her teasing looks, no doubt ready to pounce with questions about where she had been, but Yuna quickly silenced them with a playful glare.
Once all the children were seated, Sister Mari clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"Alright, class, let's begin," she said warmly.
"Today's lesson is about the history of our world and the elements that shape it."
I sat up slightly, my interest piqued. I knew this class would serve as an opportunity to refresh my knowledge of the current timeline, comparing it to what I remembered from my past life. It was also a chance to gauge how much the children around me were taught about the world's true dangers.
Sister Mari began by drawing a simple map on the chalkboard, depicting the known lands.
"Our world is vast, filled with diverse kingdoms, magical landscapes, and countless mysteries yet to be unraveled," she said, her voice clear and steady.
"We are here, in the northern region of the Lyridia Kingdom, known for its fertile lands and peaceful villages. To the west lies the Twilight Desert, a harsh and unforgiving land. To the south, the Mystwood Forest, a realm of magic and wonder, but also great danger. And to the east, the Azure Seas, which connect us to other kingdoms and cultures."
As Sister Mari spoke, I couldn't help but recall my travels across these regions in my previous life. I had battled monsters in the Twilight Desert, uncovered ancient ruins in the Mystwood, and even sailed the Azure Seas in search of lost relics. Each location held memories, some triumphant, others haunting.
Sister Mari's lesson shifted to magic, and she turned to a chart displaying the elemental affinities.
"As you know, magic is a fundamental part of our world. It is divided into several categories: Basic magic, fire, water, earth, and wind, form the foundation of all spells. Then there are the Pillars of Society: holy, dark, cosmo, and chrono magic, which play a vital role in maintaining balance in our world."
Yuna, sitting in the front, listened intently, her hands clasped on the desk. I noticed the focused expression on her face and smiled faintly. I remembered how curious she had always been about magic, even though she hadn't fully unlocked her own potential yet.
"And then," Sister Mari continued, "there are advanced forms of magic, lightning, cryo, metal, blood, and others, that require great skill and understanding to wield. Each type of magic has its strengths and weaknesses, and mastering them takes years of dedication."
One of the younger boys raised his hand.
"What about ancient magic?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
Sister Mari's expression softened, but there was a hint of caution in her tone.
"Ah, ancient magic… It is said to be the origin of all magic, written in a runic language that few can decipher. But it has been lost to time. Very few records remain, and those who once wielded it are no longer with us."
My gaze darkened slightly at her words. I knew better. Ancient magic wasn't just a legend; it was real, and I was one of the few who still understood its secrets. I had been taught by the last remaining people of the Village of the Lost, and the power of runic magic had been a crucial weapon in my fight against the Vampire Elders. But for now, I kept that knowledge to myself.
The lesson continued, delving deeper into the history of the kingdoms, the rise and fall of great heroes, and the eternal struggle between light and darkness. I absorbed the information quietly, making mental notes about the differences between this timeline and the one I remembered. Meanwhile, Yuna occasionally glanced back at me, her curiosity evident.
As the class came to an end, Sister Mari gave us a warm smile.
"Remember, children, knowledge is as important as strength. The more you learn about the world, the better prepared you'll be for whatever lies ahead."
I leaned back in my seat, my mind racing with thoughts. The world was vast and full of danger, but I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I wasn't just living a second life; I was preparing for the battles to come, and this time, I wouldn't fail.