Vilgefortz slowly rolled up a few vegetables with a fork, took small bites, and asked at the same time, "What are your plans for the afternoon?"
"Nothing special," Yavi put down the water glass, "Maybe I can practice magic."
Vilgefortz nodded and continued his elegant eating movements. After swallowing the food, he spoke again, "You should know that Teacher Sicco Jett originally planned to let me instruct you." He paused and said in a calm tone, "I just got kicked in by Francesca."
Yavi was chewing bread and nodded when he heard this. "Yeah, I know."
"Although it's not my turn to be the magic guide," Vilgefortz wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and raised his eyes to look at Yavi with a calm gaze, "But as a demon hunter, there is no harm in teaching you swordsmanship. What do you think?"
Yavi was a little surprised and stopped. "Brother Vilgo is willing to teach me swordsmanship?" This proposal was indeed unexpected. After all, in the original work, Vilgefortz was able to defeat Geralt in close combat, so I would definitely benefit a lot from accepting his guidance.
Vilgefortz didn't even raise his eyelids, as if he was stating an ordinary thing. "After all, Teacher Sicco Jett personally came to ask me for help. Due to circumstances, I should do my best." He put down his napkin, "If you really don't have any plans for this afternoon, after dinner later, we will start in the training room on the ground floor of the college."
After the two had lunch, they went to the training room located underground in the academy. Although it was buried deep in the stone wall, the magic stone embedded in the room emitted a steady and dazzling light, illuminating the entire space as bright as day.
In the center of the training ground, two people stood facing each other, each holding a heavy wooden sword. Vilgefortz glanced at Yavi's standing posture, and nodded slightly. "The posture is very standard. Who taught you?"
"Master Kharkov." Yavi replied.
"Kharkov?" Vilgefortz thought briefly, "I remember this name. Although I have not been taught by him personally, he is still a pillar of the old school of demon hunters." He raised his eyes and looked at Yavi, "How is he now?"
Yavi was silent for a moment, avoiding the other party's probing gaze, and whispered, "We have lost contact for a long time... Maybe he died outside."
"Really..." Vilgefortz's voice didn't show much emotion, "That's really a big loss for the sect." He flicked his wrist, and the wooden sword drew a short arc in the air, "Okay, start now. Use all the moves you know and attack with all your strength."
Yavi took a deep breath, lowered his center of gravity, and instantly assumed the classic offensive and defensive stance of a demon hunter. The next moment, he moved! The wooden sword tore the air, and stabbed Vilgefortz directly under the ribs with rapid force.
However, Vilgefortz simply took a half-step sideways, flipped his wrist, and Yavi's wooden sword seemed to hit an invisible wall, and was blocked with a "pop" sound. Yavi did not stop, spinning, slashing, thrusting, and flying sword shadows, fully displaying School of the Wolf's swift and ruthless sword skills.
But no matter how cunning and fast his attack was, Vilgefortz's footsteps only moved within a small area. The seemingly random wooden sword in his hand could always use the smallest amplitude and the most precise angle to neutralize all Yavi's attacks invisibly. The crisp sound of the wooden swords' clashes echoed between the stone walls, as dense as rain.
The crisp sound of the collision of wooden swords was continuous, weaving a dense network in the stone chamber. Yavi pushed School of the Wolf's sword skills to the extreme, and the offensive was like a tide, but it was still unable to shake Vilgefortz. At the moment when a swift thrust was blocked, Yavi's rhythm showed a tiny stagnation.
Vilgefortz's eyes flashed. His wrist turned over at an incredible angle, and the wooden sword was raised upwards like lightning!
With a crisp sound of "clang", Yavi felt a powerful force coming down the sword body, and the tiger's mouth shook violently, and he could no longer hold it. The wooden sword flew out of his hand, spinning in the air, and landed on the stone ground in the distance with a "clack" sound.
The cold sword tip was firmly pressed against Yavi's throat at almost the same moment.
Yavi froze in place, his chest heaving violently, and sweat sliding down his forehead. He looked at his empty hands in disbelief - he tried his best, but he couldn't even support himself for a moment under the opponent's hands.
Vilgefortz slowly retracted the wooden sword, his movements as calm as if he were brushing off the dust on his sleeves. "'The best defense is offense', this is true.
"His calm voice sounded particularly clear in the empty training room, "But every attack means that you are opening up your weaknesses to your opponent. The stronger the attack, the more gaps there are for the enemy to peek."
He raised his chin slightly and signaled Yavi: "Pick it up."
Yavi took a deep breath, suppressed the surging blood, walked over and silently picked up the wooden sword. The two re-arranged their postures, and the dense sound of wooden swords clashing sounded again in the stone chamber, as well as Yavi's increasingly heavy breathing.
Practice, block, attack, be neutralized, and attack again... Time passed quietly in the focused confrontation. Until the light of the magic stone embedded in the training room was gradually saturated with a deep blue, indicating that it was getting late outside.
Yavi finally couldn't hold on any longer and knelt down on one knee with a wooden sword in his hand. Sweat had already soaked through his warlock's robe and clung to his back. Every breath pulled his sore muscles. He was soaked all over, as if he had just been fished out of the water. He was breathing heavily, and his arms were shaking slightly uncontrollably.
Vilgefortz, on the other hand, still stood with his sword in hand, breathing steadily and long. Except for a few drops of sweat seeping from his forehead, he looked almost the same as when he started training. His calmness and calmness were in sharp contrast to the embarrassment of Yavi.
Vilgefortz's eyes fell on Yavi, who was kneeling on one knee in a state of embarrassment. He nodded almost imperceptibly, with a rare look of approval on his face.
"Your performance," he said slowly, his voice very clear in the empty training room, "Has far exceeded my expectations." He took a step forward and looked down at Yavi, "At least among the demon hunters who received training at the same time, you are considered the best one."
Yavi forced a smile, mixed with exhaustion and a hint of stubbornness, and sweat was still dripping down his chin.
Vilgefortz seemed to have read through his thoughts and continued calmly, "In terms of swordsmanship and understanding alone, the gap between you and me is actually not as huge as you feel."
Yavi gasped and raised his head, with questions in his eyes.
"The key is," Vilgefortz gently held the sword in his arms, and the wooden sword was like a living thing in his hand, "I am a warlock. I can guide and penetrate the magic into every inch of the bones, blood, and muscles, making them transcend the limits of the world." He paused and looked at Yavi sharply, "This is a gap that cannot be crossed by pure swordsmanship. And you, now, can't do this yet."
He flicked his wrist, and the wooden sword accurately inserted into the weapon rack on the wall.
"Starting tomorrow," Vilgefortz turned around with an unmistakable tone, "I will teach you how to integrate magic into every block, every slash, and every step you take when fighting. Let magic become a part of your body's strength, not just the flames or frost emitting from your palms."
He walked to the door of the training room and stopped sideways. "That's it for today. You have spent a lot, go back and eat well and rest well. The body is a container that carries strength, don't wear it down." After saying that, the figure disappeared at the end of the dim corridor, leaving Yavi alone in the blue light of the magic stone, feeling the soreness of the muscles all over his body and the violent heartbeat.