Emperors War 110 Teach Me How To Use A Sword

Aker contemplated defeating Finley in a couple of quick moves but he thought back to Vance's words all those years ago. Vance had once told him that he needed to practice against the weaker opponents because his opponents would only become stronger as he continued on in his path.

This opponent was a former member of the King Killers and would represent the weakest opponent he would face from this Division. From here on out the opponents that Aker would face would only be stronger than Finley, why would anyone weaker try and take up the mantle after hearing about or seeing Finley lose?

Aker had only ever fought against beast and only ever practiced with Vance and Cap. He had fought and killed the pirates but at that time he was solely focused on annihilating the enemy in front of him.

Since Finley was coming from the King Killers, he had probably been systematically taught his fighting skills and by dragging out his fight with Finley he might be able to glean a few details about how they fight. These were the skills that made the King Killers the top regular fighting force in the entire Underground Empire, despite Aker's superior skill and strength he wouldn't be so arrogant as to a.s.sume there was nothing he could learn.

As Finley's attack reached Aker, another "clank" sounded out as metal clashed against metal.

The sound of "clank's" permeated the stage as sword and saber met repeatedly. No matter how slow or fast Finley moved, no matter which angle he attacked from, whether feinting or attacking Aker's sword was perfectly in place to counter.

'What the h.e.l.l is up with this kid? How is it possible for him to keep up with my speed and to be so freaking precise in his counters? It's as if he is reading my mind or knows exactly where my saber is going to attack from.'

Finley could barely contain his thoughts; his killing intent began to wane as his mind was pondering over how Aker was able to so perfectly match his strikes.

In reality Aker could essentially predict exactly where Finley's attacks were coming from, and from Aker's perspective it was relatively easy. After fighting against a mult.i.tude of different magic beast as well as practicing against Vance and his never-ending tricks, Aker had become very adept at picking up on subtle movements.

With Aker's superior comprehension capabilities and with Finley's much weaker strength, Aker could close his eyes and still block all of Finley's attacks.

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What had Aker enthralled was Finley's methodology of attack as well as his unique movements. Observing Finely reminded Aker of Vance in that they both seemed to have a sense of killing in their every move. Subconsciously Finely would add subtle moves such as dropping a shoulder, moving a hip, sliding a foot to give the impression he was going to go one way while his saber was going another.

This trickery and sleight of hand was born of the battle field and something that naturally evolved as fighter fought fighter in a bid to stay alive.

Aker who had fought countless beast never had to learn the subtlety of misdirection as magic beast were straightforward in their attacks and intentions.

Aker had learned a lot fighting against Vance and Cap over the last year on the Ship and now fighting against Finley he was getting a different type of feel. Whereas Vance and Cap seemed to overemphasize individual strength and all of their moves reflected that, Finley's fighting style seemed to exalt the concept of group fighting.

Aker could feel that as Finley attacked that openings were appearing in his form, if there was another fighter supporting Finley if they were at the same fighting strength Aker would be in a world of trouble.

'Every attack of Finley aims to incapacitate me but also serves a secondary objective of creating openings that can be exploited by someone of his side. This type of two-p.r.o.nged approach to fighting, does everyone in the military learn this?'

Aker was flabbergasted by the many openings he was being forced to show. If this was his first time fighting in a battle and he was facing two or three of them, even he wouldn't be able to survive.

What Aker didn't know was that this type of fighting style was unique to the King Killers. The Division Commander had personally trained and taught the first batch of fighters these techniques and inst.i.tuted them into their normal fighting style.

This fighting style allowed for each genius member to be strong independently and invincible as a group, this is exactly the reason that the King Killers had become an unstoppable force. This was why genius fighters from all over the Underground Empire wanted to join the King Killers.

As Aker fought, his understanding of how Finley's attacks were forcing him to expose vulnerabilities went from perplexing to insightful. With each swing of Finley's saber Aker's understanding of the attack grew exponentially.

Initially Aker didn't understand how it was possible for the seemingly straightforward attacks to cause him to expose himself, but Aker was someone who had read countless books on formations.

It didn't take long for him to realize that the person who had created this fighting style had taken the concept of formations and broken it up into multiple easy to understand parts.

Each fighter was taught specific angles of attacks utilizing different speeds and combinations. As the fighters grouped up, they would be attacking from different angles with different speeds and combinations creating almost limitless variations.

The worst aspect of this battle style if you're its opponent is that adding more fighters would make it increasingly harder to fight against. More fighters represented more variations that were focused on creating openings which in turn significantly increased the probability of defeat. From the perspective of the commander there was no risk in the fighters not being able to cooperate as the method of fighting literally forced the fighters to become a cohesive fighting unit.

Aker was utterly amazed at the ingenuity and brilliance of its developer. Aker who had a deep appreciation for skills had also tinkered with formations and found that theoretical knowledge did not equate to practical use. While Aker had read up plenty on formations and it was this reading that allowed him to quickly break Alex's Five Element Dominator Formation, it didn't mean he was capable of deploying and utilizing them himself.

Within a few minutes of Finley's first swing of his saber Aker had completely adjusted the way he combated Finley's attacks, thus eliminating the openings that were being created.

'What the h.e.l.l is up with this kid!? Why does it seem that he is getting stronger while were fighting? Just a few swings ago I could force him to drop his guard in several locations, but now I can't force a single opening. Has he already figured out how to counter my attacks? Isn't this the same fighting style that has allowed the King Killers to run wild and claim unparalleled battle honors?'

Finely was in complete and total awe. It wasn't just Finely, the entire crowds' eyes were locked on the battle, no one could believe what they were seeing.

A high and mighty King Killer was fighting against some unknown kid and from what they could tell was at a disadvantage. Sure, it appeared that they were evenly matched as each "clank" represented an attack and a block, but most of the people here weren't idiots when it came to these types of fights.

Because of Finley's diminishing battle prowess due to losing his edge the speed that Aker and Finley fought at slowed down to a visible rate.

Just the look on Finley's face let everyone know that he was giving it his full strength, even that overwhelming killing intent had disappeared and was replaced with the soft purr of a kitten. It was evident that he was swinging his sword now as to not lose face, but everyone realized there was no chance of Finley defeating Aker.

"Hey, who is this kid?"

"He seems to be from the Frail Fighters, but when did they get such a strong fighter?"

"I haven't seen him before either, but doesn't he seem too young to be a fighter?"

"What are you talking about, of course he's a fighter, are you blind, didn't the Frail Fighters send him up there to represent them? If he wasn't a fighter then why would they send him?"

"What do you guys know.....earlier one of the fighters from the Frail Fighters called him their errand boy, doesn't that mean he's only a puer nuntius?"

This left the crowd holding their breath. The kid on the stage who was holding Finley in check was an errand boy? He wasn't even a fighter for the Frail Fighters, the undisputed weakest company on the planet if not the whole Underground Empire....

As the crowd of fighters watched Aker's sword, they couldn't remove their eyes from his every move, they were mesmerized and attracted like a moth to a flame. Aker's movements were akin to a dance, there was a certain grace and majesty to his every action. He seemed to perfectly time every motion of his sword, his feet, his hips.....every part of his body seemed to flow perfectly.

Many of these fighters were uncultured and lived for battle, as Sampson would call them, they were brutes through and through. However, for the first time in the lives of some of these so-called brutes they felt an appreciation for the arts, Aker's movements were wild and free, graceful and elegant, fast and slow.

Even Finley who had been so upset only moments ago found himself appreciating Aker. While the others were appreciating Akers movements, Finley was appreciating the entire process.

Finely had experienced how Aker had initially struggled with not his direct attack but the clear openings his attack created. It was obvious to Finley that Aker was easily able to block even his most ferocious attack, but that level of ease didn't stop him from exposing weakness after weakness. Initially Finley was comforting himself thinking that while Aker clearly had some skill, he would easily be trampled if Finley had just one other person.

However, within a few dozen exchanges of sword and saber Aker was able to compensate for the inadequacies of his fighting form and eliminate those weaknesses. Witnessing this first hand left the little bit of fighting spirit that Finley had by the way side.

After each swing of his saber Finley's intensity and desire for combat waned, until finally he just stood across from Aker heaving heavily, his chest bouncing up and down completely fixated on Aker.

'Throughout the entire exchange he didn't attack a single time, he only blocked. Not only that but he never left a one-meter radius no matter how many times a swung my saber. Doesn't that mean he could have defeated me handily if he wanted too? Doesn't that mean I was never any compet.i.tion to him in the first place?'

Finley had come to the realization that it was instead him who didn't deserve to be in front of this kid. He had lambasted Aker for not understanding the situation, for over estimating himself and for talking down to him, but at the end Aker hadn't had to put in any effort in defeating him. Not only that, the weakness that he would have been able to exploit had been resolved, overall Finley was left without being able to utter a word. What could he possibly say at this moment?

After taking a deep breath Finely turned and hopped down off of the fighting stage without looking at anyone. Confusion oozed from him as his steps led him further and further away from the shocked crowd.

"Did Finley...just concede?" Fish eyes called out, doubt could be heard in his voice, his emotions wavered at the thought.

After a few seconds pause as everyone present took in the situation and silence enveloped the atmosphere a brave and heroic voice called out "Isn't it clear, he conceded and ran off. Based on how he looked and his unsteady footsteps not even he knew what the h.e.l.l happened!"

As if they didn't know how to, a slow spat of cheers started from the Frail Fighters. Initially it was weak, but as the seconds ticked off the sound of cheering, the sounds of laughter grew stronger and stronger. This group of people who had found solace in even the smallest victory was suddenly presented with a resounding slap to the entire C Company, even Leader Nathan Kula was not exempt. The slow cheers that started with the Frail Fighters grew louder and spread to those fighters who had nothing to do with the Frail Fighters or C Company. Even if they despised the Frail Fighters, even if they had just jeered Aker for not understanding his place, they couldn't help but appreciate what they witnessed with their own eyes.

As the sounds of cheering began to take on a life of their own the faces of the fighters from C Company grew long, some of the fighters turned their heads, they didn't want anyone to see how discouraged and slightly ashamed they felt.

"clank, clank, clank"

Leader Nathan Kula tossed the sword onto the ground and as it bounced the sound reverberated out causing everyone to stop their cheering. Following in Finley's footsteps Leader Nathan Kula turned and walked away. Seeing their leader leave all the fighters from C Company followed, none uttered even the slightest noise. Most of the fighters had their heads down but there were still a couple of stubborn fighters who kept their heads up high, perhaps it was in defiance to the situation or perhaps it was because they were simply haughty people to begin with.

Muscles who had been silent stepped forward and just as he was about to call out, that heroic figure from D Company put his hand on his shoulder "Let this one go" he whispered out, he wanted as few people as possible to hear their conversation.

Muscles who was agitated fired back "Why should I let this go, didn't that d.a.m.n leader tell us he would apologize if he lost? Shouldn't he stay true to his word? Was it us that started the fight with them? Was it us who picked on them first? Now that we have gained the upper hand, we should just let him off just like that?"

"It's impossible for him to apologize even if he said he would. Can we make him? It was good enough that he gave the sword back at all, if we press our luck our victory right now would become a tragedy. That Leader Nathan Kula has a hundred different ways he can oppress our D Company." That debonair and heroic figure said the words that needed to be said.

Muscles watched Leader Nathan Kula walk away, his indignation consuming him to the point that he was shaking ever so lightly. Muscles had been humiliated, he had been beat, he had been told to admit the entire situation was his fault and be appreciative that he was being robbed.

Muscles took his eyes off of Leader Nathan Kula and put them on the kid still standing on the stage. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming level of respect for Aker at this time. When he had sent Brendon back to D Company to find Aker, he had only held the slightest hope. He had seen Aker's ability; well he had felt Aker's ability more accurately. When he practiced with Aker, he hadn't even seen how Aker was able to move behind him. Muscles had seen every regular fighter in the company and none of them came close to the movement that Aker displayed. Only the Leaders, the Vice Commander or the Commander would be able to compete with Aker but the regular fighters had no chance.

Since that was the case, when this situation reared its ugly head his first and only thought was of Aker. While he hadn't actually seen Aker exchange sword blows his thoughts were 'anyone who can move that fast must be able to fight right?'. With this thought he didn't hesitate to call on Aker.

During the fight Muscles never blinked, never turned his head, his focus remained on that young kid. By the end of the fight he had made up his mind as to what he needed to do next.

Since he had made up his mind there was no sense in prolonging it.

"Hey, can you teach me how to use a sword like that?" Muscles didn't try and hide his question and frankly he didn't feel the need to as he asked Aker. Most people Muscles age, in their very early twenties would find themselves beyond embarra.s.sed voicing out that question to a thirteen-year-old kid. Muscles who had pondered over asking the question finally concluded that learning from Aker far outweighed any perceived shame or embarra.s.sment. Everyone here had seen his skills; everyone had seen how he had handled Finley. Before that everyone had seen his strength when dealing with Brendon, in the universe where strength dictated everything, Aker could be considered the defacto king in the Frail Fighters.

It would never have occurred to Muscles that Aker had lied about his age and he wasn't even thirteen yet. In order to join the military in the first place even as puer nuntius the minimum age was thirteen. Despite Aker's tall stature his young face made him appear younger than thirteen but no one would believe that.

Who cared that he wasn't even technically a fighter, what did that t.i.tle matter anyway? Hadn't he stood on that stage and defeated a genius? What does his t.i.tle matter, no one would dare mock or make fun of him, and even if they did, so what? Could they defeat Finley? Would they even have the courage to stand on that stage to find out if they could?

In fact, not a single person had a mocking face after hearing Muscles question. The truth was the members from the D Company were listening intently, after hearing Muscles ask the question they wanted to know as well. Weren't they equally impressed by the skills this kid displayed?

"Sure thing, that was my intention anyway now that you have a sword. Let's start tomorrow morning before I make breakfast."

Aker's words were like an explosion in their ears. Not because he agreed to teach Muscles but because he said he was going to still make everyone breakfast. Why would someone as strong as Aker work in the kitchen? If he was that strong and still doing menial task such as that, where did that leave the rest of them?

"Uh.....you really don't have to make breakfast tomorrow..." Finally, one of the D Company fighters voiced out, resignation and regret could be felt. Anyone who had a meal made by Aker would feel that the world had lost a little bit of color and liveliness if they weren't allowed to eat his cooking any longer.

While everyone in D Company felt that regret as well there wasn't a single fighter who voiced an objection. To expect someone that strong to cook and wait on them, wasn't that too much?

"Do you not want me to cook anymore?" Aker was startled by this fighter. He was left wondering if they didn't like his cooking.

"No, it's not that, it's just that with your fighting ability, how should I say this.....isn't it too much for us to expect you to continue cooking?" This fighter struggled with the right words. How could he say "Someone as strong as you shouldn't be in the kitchen" without sounding offensive?

"Did my fighting ability change since I made the last meal? My fighting strength is the same as before I made the last meal as it is now. Besides, I rather enjoy cooking so I don't see a problem."

Hearing Aker's words everyone was left without the ability to say another word in regards to the matter. Perhaps it was time that the fighters should reconsider how they viewed the so-called menial task.

"I'd like to learn too!"

"Me too, can you teach me too?"

"Count me in, as long as you are training with one, what's another?"

Voice after voice from D Company echoed out calling for Aker to teach them how to use the sword. There wasn't a single fighter who wasn't impressed by his skill, how could they pa.s.s up this opportunity.

"Sure, there's no problem, as many who want to train can train but you have to bring your own weapon." Aker didn't have any problems, in fact the more there were the better his training would be as well. Not to mention that Finley's fighting style had given Aker dozens of ideas on how he could implement a similar battle style formation as well.

"Hey that reminds me, where did you get that sword? Isn't it to amazing?" Fish eyes who had caught a glimpse of Muscles sword turned to him and asked.

Everyone present turned their attention to Muscles, they all had seen the sword and were shocked at its quality. Since when could the fighters from the Frail Fighters get their hands on a sword that amazing.

Muscles looked to Aker with a sense of pleading, he didn't know what to do. With so many fighters from D Company pressing him for an answer how could he keep his mouth shut. Aker seeing Muscles eyes begging for him to do something answered their question without any fanfare or pride "I made it for him."

Every eye blinked, every mouth opened and once again silence prevailed.

Aker who saw the entire crowd's dumbfounded face couldn't help but wonder 'is it really something all that amazing that you all have to look like that?'