“Sir Sapphire, would you perhaps take a look at my swordsmanship soon?”
It had already been two months since he began adapting to his changed body. Faust had decided that it was about time he picked up a sword in earnest.
“My… swordsmanship?”
“To be precise, I would like to ask you for an instructional spar.”
It wasn’t as though he had gone the entire last two months without touching a sword. In order to finish getting a grasp on his body and rid himself of its unfamiliarity, he had practiced simple movements such as vertical and horizontal cuts until he was sick of them. During that process, he had occasionally received various corrections as well.
“You mean… me?”
“Yes.”
But such exercises were truly no more than the most basic of basics. Once actual combat began, habits beyond those basics were bound to surface.
Faust wanted to correct them as soon as possible. He had already been told that even during basic movements his posture occasionally became slightly crooked, or that he put excessive strength into only one particular part of his body, which made that desire all the stronger.
“Ah… if what bothers you is that I haven’t even graduated from the Knight Academy—”
“That is absolutely not it.”
Sensing a trace of reluctance in Sir Sapphire’s discomfort, Faust had come up with what he thought was the reason and spoken. Sir Sapphire simply cut in urgently before he could finish.
“I was merely taken aback. I absolutely did not…