After hearing Sibelle's explanation, Bastion accepted his new reality, took a bath, and changed into a heavy leather combat outfit. The gear was designed to absorb blunt strikes while weighing enough to force him to exert extra effort just to move properly, a form of resistance training in itself.
He was then escorted to an open training ground, where a young Apprentice Knight was already waiting. The knight looked young, likely in his late teens, and was of average height. Still, the difference was significant; he looked like a giant compared to Bastion, who was barely four feet tall (1.2 ters). And his armor and sword were made of solid tal and didn’t look like training equipnt at all.
The training ground was a wide expanse of dirt with a circle marked at the center. To the sides were racks of weapons, also made of tal. Again, these did not look like training equipnt, although they were smaller in size to fit his current height as a five-year-old. They looked closer to being heavy tal toy weapons if he had to be honest.
"This will be your opponent for today, Young Master," Sibelle announced.
The knight said nothing, offering only a respectful bow before drawing his sword and settling into a ready stance. He stood in the circle at the far end, waiting for the spar to begin.
"We'll be assessing your aptitude for close combat. Choose any weapon from the rack and fight as you see fit," Sibelle continued. "Don't overthink your choice, you'll be expected to try them all eventually."
Bastion gave a small nod and reached for a longsword, the rightmost weapon on the rack. He figured he might as well go through them in order.
He swung it a few tis and noted that it weighed like a standard longsword, its weight comfortable in his hand despite him being only five years old. It seed they had a perfect grasp of how strong children of the Diamondhart lineage should be at this age. It ant he wasn’t special in any way despite spending years exercising. He was just perfectly normal as far as their bloodline was concerned.
Once Bastion took his position in the circle opposite the knight, his opponent charged. With a sudden dash ending in a powerful swing, he disard Bastion, sending his sword flying across the training ground.
A punch followed, knocking him to the dirt, and before he could make sense of what was happening, he was kicked and struck rcilessly as the knight beat him all over the training ground. It was a continuous, rciless beating that didn’t allow him to regain his bearings.
Panic flared. Bastion hadn't been taught how to hold the sword, how to position his feet, how to distribute his weight, nothing. He'd simply been thrown into the fight with a silent, unrelenting assailant.
After five brutal minutes, the knight calmly returned to his spot, standing ready and waiting for another round.
Sibelle stepped forward, knelt, and dripped a drop of a potion into Bastion's mouth. Then she stood back, voice cold but composed.
"You may continue with the sa weapon or choose another. All weapons must be tested by day's end, so make haste."
Warmth flooded Bastion's limbs as the potion took effect. Bones realigned. Bruises faded. Swelling vanished. The healing was nothing short of miraculous.
'So that's how it's going to be,' Bastion thought bitterly. 'Trial by pain. Well, fine. If they have potions like this, I'll take the beatings and learn the hard way.'
He gave up on learning anything useful today and decided to fight like a brawler. If nothing else, maybe he could at least get a few punches in.
Rising to his feet, he picked up the discarded sword, this ti with both hands, and got into position.
As expected, the knight charged. Bastion leveled the sword forward, hoping to restrict his opponent's movent.
The knight batted the blade aside with a powerful swing, but Bastion spun with the montum, bringing the sword around in a wide arc for a follow-up strike.
The knight moved to kick him down but quickly stepped back, blocked the attack, and expertly absorbed the montum rather than deflecting it outright. Then, he switched tactics, closing in and pumling Bastion with gauntleted fists.
Bastion took the hits to the face like a champ and even managed to land a few punches of his own, though they seed to do nothing. The difference in strength was obvious. Even with the strength of a normal adult, he was outclassed.
Another five minutes of being tossed around the training ground passed before the knight finally backed off and returned to his position, silent and disciplined.
Sibelle approached, administered another drop of healing potion, and spoke in the sa cold tone.
"Choose your next weapon. Continue."
'So the goal isn't to win… it's to endure,' Bastion thought grimly. 'Alright then. Let's see if I can last longer than five minutes.'
Still opting for the sword, Bastion got into position once more, only to break into a sprint around the training grounds the mont the knight charged.
Predictably, the knight dashed and quickly closed the gap. With a casual swat of his gloved hand, he knocked the sword from Bastion's grip and followed it up with a rciless beating, striking Bastion with the flat of the blade across his body.
Five minutes later, the knight returned to his original position, calm as ever.
'I give up,' Bastion thought bitterly as he lay on the ground, his limbs spread wide, uncaring for his dignity. 'There's no point trying to make sense of anything when your opponent treats you like a toddler. Let's just call this training to resist torture and pray it ends soday.'
Bastion returned the sword to the rack and moved on to the other weapons. Spears and halberds were decent at first, but the knight easily yanked them from his grip and followed up with a brutal beating.
Short swords and daggers were completely ignored, the knight simply kept his distance and swatted Bastion around like a golf ball.
Bows proved useless. The knight took the arrow to his armor without flinching and charged straight through.
The shield, however, quickly beca his new best friend. It managed to blunt the worst of the blows, reducing the damage he took during each five-minute session of punishnt.
In the end, he settled on a combination of dagger and shield. It gave him the best fighting chance against his overwhelming opponent. He even managed to wound the knight once, when the armored figure tried to grab the shield and got stabbed in the hand for his trouble. After that, the knight never attempted to grab the shield again.
Still, he had no trouble tossing Bastion all over the training grounds with massive swings, too fast to dodge and strong enough to launch him off his feet. By now, Bastion had learned to land as gracefully as possible.
Co afternoon, he was forced to cycle through the rest of the weapons again. Predictably, he got beaten into the dirt.
He tried axes, maces, whips, clubs, staves, everything available. None worked as well as the humble dagger and shield combo when it ca to surviving the knight's relentless assault.
Bastion couldn't help but think it was a bit unfair to judge his performance based on his fight with the knight, soone clearly far stronger, especially since he had never been properly taught how to wield weapons, position his body, or maneuver in battle. Then again, against a much stronger opponent, this knowledge would still be useless. He was still a child, after all. Given the circumstances, it was obvious the dagger and shield were his only realistic options.
Still, he made it through the day and held onto the hope that, by tomorrow, he'd finally receive so proper instruction.
Unfortunately, his training continued in the sa grueling manner every single day. Day after day, week after week, month after month, until an entire year had passed, with only the occasional change in his opponent.
He endured daily tornt on the training grounds for a full year, forced to cycle through different weapons every single day. Bastion had long since given up on mastering any of them.
If nothing else, he learned how to take a beating. He learned to deflect blows, roll with impacts, disperse montum with precise footwork, land safely, and recover quickly. Beyond that, he gained little of note, only how to survive, and for as long as possible.
-----
A year into Bastion's training, Sibelle ca to Darius with a report.
"How is he, Sibelle?"
"He's proving quite talented with a shield and has learned to take blows well. He defaults to daggers in most cases, but he also shows so promise with the longsword, though his skill there is slightly below average. Interestingly, he's shown equal aptitude with whips. He manages to disarm every new knight at least once before they wise up to his tricks."
"Longsword and whips? What do you think, Es?"
"He takes after more than you, my love. Give him my old whip sword. Let's see how he handles it. By now, he should have enough mana to wield it, if only for a few seconds to disarm his opponent."
"See to it, Sibelle."
"Yes, Master."
-----
Bastion braced himself for another grueling day of torture, only to find Sibelle adding a new weapon to the pile.
Unlike the others, this one took him a while to figure out. It was, in essence, a fantasy-style whip sword. Longer than the dagger he usually favored, it was just short enough to stab at any hands that managed to grab his treasured shield.
When he channeled mana into the hilt, as Sibelle instructed, the weapon unfurled, its tension releasing as the blade extended well beyond five ters. Segnted blades were spaced roughly a foot apart, and while feeding it mana, Bastion found he could control the whip with impressive precision. However, it drained his mana rapidly, limiting his usage to only a few seconds.
Releasing the mana caused the blade to retract, reverting the weapon back into a rigid sword. Even without magic, it remained functional as a standard sword.
"You've shown clear talent with the sword and shield," Sibelle said, watching him test the weapon. "Your aptitude with longswords and whips is lesser, but present. Your mother has given you her training whip sword to see if you possess any special affinity for it."
She stepped back and continued.
"From now on, you won't need to cycle through every weapon. You may choose the ones you prefer for training. Tomorrow, your close combat training begins in earnest."
"I knew this wasn't real training. I was just being tortured this past year," Bastion blurted out without thinking.
Sibelle smiled gently before calling Bastion’s attention.
“Young Master, over the next decade, you will learn many things from ,” Sibelle began. “But the most important lesson I can teach you isn’t how to act like a noble, fight like a knight, or think like a scholar. It’s how to learn.”
She paused, letting the words settle before continuing.
“I can teach you many things, including how to raise your skills to level 5. But beyond that, your progress will depend entirely on your own ability to grow and adapt. If I simply hand you the answers, you’ll never develop the insight needed to reach higher levels in your arts and skills. That would leave you reliant on Skill Points instead of true mastery.”
Her tone softened. “For the sake of your future, I can only guide you toward learning these things on your own. I hope you take this lesson to heart, even if you forget everything else I teach you.”
Bastion easily accepted Sibelle’s reasoning. He had to admit he might not have been the most graceful fighter, but he managed to develop a fighting style on his own. It didn’t take a genius to know where to hold a sword and how to swing it. It did, however, take a genius to know how to do it best with the talents they were given.
“Thank you, Sibelle. I will take your words to heart.”
"Very good, Young Master," Sibelle said with a smile. "Also, torture training doesn't begin until a few months before you turn 18."
"Wut?"
-----
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