"I misjudged you before." Windsor's face showed embarrassment, and then she frankly admitted that she had underestimated her opponent.
"The way you wielded the sword was very... very casual, even somewhat amateurish. Your footwork and grip were not standard. I thought you were just... an ordinary guest who came to experience it."
Windsor was really embarrassed to use the word "newbie".
I feel like a complete novice in front of them.
Would you believe me if I said I just learned it?
"Just learned it?" Windsor shook her head. "Sir, you must be joking. I'm not stupid. A beginner who just learned it could never produce an attack, defense, and prediction at your level."
"If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do," Draco said helplessly, spreading out his sword. "Anyway, I won't be sleeping on the sofa tonight."
Windsor smiled.
"Sir, I was rude before. I can't understand your swordsmanship, but it is indeed far superior to mine. Please give me some pointers, as there are still two points left!" She took the initiative to humble herself and ask for guidance.
Draco raised an eyebrow, noticing the genuine thirst for knowledge in Isabella's eyes. He wasn't one to hold grudges, and seeing her sincere attitude, he said, "Attack with your strongest move, and I'll defend while showing you where your weaknesses lie."
"Alright, then you can take the initiative and go all out." Draco agreed, saying he wouldn't mind offering some pointers. He picked up his sword again and casually struck a pose.
"Alright!" Windsor adopted the most rigorous offensive stance, her movements agile, attacking Draco from various tricky angles.
While defending, Draco pointed out the problem:
"The pace was too hasty, the center of gravity too low, and the rapid advance resulted in insufficient cushioning during the retreat, making it difficult to recover from the change of direction and defend."
"The range of your arm movement when blocking is too large; unnecessary movements will expose gaps in your body. Defense requires precise positioning."
"If you just rush forward in a straight line, your rhythm will be too monotonous. Once your opponent figures out your patterns, they can easily predict all your movements."
Draco's insights are often incisive, pointing out subtle flaws and habits that Windsor himself may not have been fully aware of.
As Windsor fought, she became increasingly alarmed and excited. She could feel that every block and tip from her opponent made her understanding of fencing clearer.
Although Windsor quickly adjusted her movements as instructed, curbed her impetuous pace, stabilized her center of gravity, and tried to change her offensive methods, no matter how she adjusted, she could not break through Draco's defensive barrier. After several rounds, Draco prepared to end the battle.
Seizing the opportunity presented by Windsor's overexertion and delayed sword retraction, he suddenly rotated his wrist, and his sword drew a smooth, full arc in the air as he thrust out—a circular thrust!
The sword tip accelerated abruptly at the end of its arc, as if the arc had gathered power, and struck Windsor's ribcage.
"A circle is not just for blocking, but also the starting point for an attack."
Before Windsor could even marvel at the exquisite strike, Draco's attack followed. He feinted a cross step to the left, causing Isabella to instinctively shift her weight to the right to block, but his sword struck the instant the cross step was completed.
The sword moved to another line of attack with a speed too fast for the naked eye to detect, thrusting out from a completely unexpected angle, crossing and transferring, neatly ending this instruction.
"Did you see that? A feint is meant to shift your opponent's balance, not deceive their eyes." Draco sheathed his sword perfectly.
Windsor sheathed her sword and stepped back, removing her face shield. Her face was slightly sweaty, and her breathing was slightly rapid. With the most solemn salute of a fencer, she held her sword upright before her and bowed.
"Sir! No, sir! Please accept my utmost respect! This isn't a competition, it's you giving me a lesson!"
As she spoke, her gaze was intense, and her tone was full of admiration. "I know this may be presumptuous, but I sincerely want to learn from you! Please take me as your apprentice! I'm willing to pay any tuition fee!"
Sure enough, Hermione's lips twitched. She rubbed her forehead, sighing inwardly: Merlin... what a mess this is.
Trillian glanced at Hermione, who was rubbing her forehead, and thought to herself: Hermione's worries were indeed not unfounded; here it comes.
After her initial reaction, Hermione stepped forward and quickly intervened, "Wait, there's no need to exaggerate. It's just a friendly spar. There's no need for an apprenticeship. We're about to disembark."
"It's no exaggeration, Miss. Your husband's fencing skills far surpass mine. It's a rare opportunity to learn from a master like him, and I'm genuinely seeking his guidance." Windsor's eyes were exceptionally earnest.
" Windsor, don't mind," Trillian said with a smile, stepping forward. " Hermione's just worried that if you're with the young master every day, you might develop feelings for him and fall in love with her husband! Just like with the tennis and the gamblers before..."
"What nonsense are you talking about! Who's afraid of this! I... I'm doing this for his own good!" Hermione blushed, glared at Trillian, and raised her voice in denial.
The plot seems to be heading towards a twisted, womanizing god of war who's always attracting women. Draco was practically bursting with laughter inside, but on the surface, he had to maintain a calm and collected demeanor.
Draco was secretly enjoying his wife's jealousy, when Windsor, realizing Hermione's concerns, quickly explained, "Don't worry, Madam."
"I simply admire your husband's swordsmanship, nothing more!" Windsor added, trying to make her point.
"Besides, I have a boyfriend, and we're very much in love! I'm just a sword fanatic; I can't tear myself away from impressive swordsmanship. I promise I'll only learn fencing from Mr. [the instructor], and I'll never overstep any boundaries!"
Hearing Windsor say she had a boyfriend, Hermione finally felt relieved, and the wariness on her face disappeared.
Hermione's expression softened, and she nodded. "Well... alright, but it's just an exchange of skills, not a formal master-disciple relationship."
Hey, did you even ask for my opinion?
These women made decisions for me without my consent, really... Draco felt helpless, but he couldn't be bothered to argue, since it was just a matter of passing the last day anyway.
And so, the matter was decided "pleasantly".
With the storm settled, Windsor, Trillian, and Hermione all looked at Draco in the arena, having already tacitly accepted the arrangement to learn fencing from him, and quietly awaited his instructions.
"Alright, since we're going to learn, let's start with the basics." Draco removed his fencing mask, casually smoothed his slightly messy hair, and instructed, "For the basic stance and sword handling, just learn from Windsor; she's very professional."
"Are you trying to slack off again?" Hermione looked at him suspiciously.
"You really want me to teach you step by step? Like last time on the tennis court?" Draco grinned mischievously at Hermione.
Seeing his mischievous expression, Hermione's mind instantly flashed back to the ambiguous scene of their "close coaching" on the tennis court. Her face flushed red to the roots of her ears, and she took a step back, stammering, "Th-never mind! It's alright!"
"Young master! Young master! I need your personal guidance." Judging from Hermione's expression, Trillian guessed almost exactly what she wanted.