The sobering realisation lead me to intently watch his movements. At some point, i became curious.
Ramiel also had the Swordsman Job classification, and by extension i did as well. But i had absolutely no idea or experience when it came to wielding a weapon, much less a sword. So how was i expected to use one in the future?
Could Ramiel even really be called a Swordsman with his stats?
Ramiel Se'Mortaniel De' Montclairre and Arthur Baratheon D. Vermont were both Awakened; a specific group of people who aroused their dormant capacity to use the natural and worldly energy of Mana and Arts. They were also called Practitioners as a more formal term.
But Ramiel was so pathetically weak and untalented that it was a mystery how he was even Awakened. To the point even his Awakened rank started below Tier 1, at Tier 0. Tier 0 was practically no different than an average, regular human.
Yet, Ramiel was seen as an Awakened. At least in name, since he could control Mana even just barely. A truly regular person and a non-practitioner couldn't even feel Mana passively, much less have a single Affinity.
Somehow, staring intently at Arthur's figure from under the shade, my thoughts wandered as my eyes remained focus as if trying to commit every minute details of his movements to memory.
Arthur wasn't executing any particular flashy or exorbitant moves and his swings and foot work consisted of neatly aligned arrangements and fluid forms. Despite not being entirely certain about what i was looking at it, i couldn't help but think each execution was flawless. Like each swing and shift went where it was exactly meant to be.
To my 21st century Earth untrained eye, it just looked like Arthur was swinging around a long wooden stick, and maybe the flawless part was just how slender muscles rolled underneath his skin and sweat glistened over his limbs.
But there was something causing me to lean into his every action. It was like a faint and vague knack of intuition... Like something was about to and bound to click if i just kept staring long enough.
"You've been staring strangely for a while now." Arthur's words rang out, snapping me out of my trance like state.
My eyes snapped at his face, blinking, as i regarded his words. Arthur had paused his training for a second and was now looking directly at me from under the sun. His broad chest and wide, capped shoulders rose and fell slowly with each breath.
He stared at my state curiously.
"You've been spacing out a lot lately since you recovered. I've noticed. Is everything alright, Ramiel?" He said, voice laced with mild concern.
I kept a straight face under Arthur's scrutiny using this body's ability to appear composed and reserved under almost any pressure. But in truth, Arthur's words did manage to stir up some panic deep inside my mind.
"Yes, of course, young master. Everything is quite alright," i said in a measured and cool tone, devoid of no trace of my full thoughts.
Arthur was painfully perceptive and too intuitive for his own good. Any careless slip-up around him could arouse suspicion against me. And the worst part is, i'd have almost no way of knowing unless he himself let me.
Arthur calmly gazed at my face as if regarding my words. The short second he did so almost made my throat clench at the back, but i kept my back firm and my face straight regardless.
Then his lips parted in small smile, almost a grin. "It's been a while since you and i both spared against each other. You've been down for two weeks, in fact i daresay you've become more rusty," he said with a playful taunting kind of smile, then added the next set of dreadful words that made me squeeze down saliva in a gulp.
"How about a spar for the sake of the good old days. Well...if you're up for it, of course."
No, I'm good... Is what i would say. In fact, i did — inside my head.
I deadpanned at Arthur like i was staring at a golden chicken with two heads. Am i crazy? I had seen the way he swung that wooden sword. Now for what stupid reason would i actually accept to—
"Very well, Young Master."
'...'
The words came out of my lips before i could fully realise what happened. Contrary to my will, Ramiel — this body — had reacted surprisingly aggressively towards Arthur's playful teasing.
With how high this guy's pride was, even such an obviously childish taunt like that made him feel mocked. Even while my thoughts were calm and composed, i could feel a smouldering disdain and irritation stir in my heart from insecurity at Arthur's words. It didn't help that it came from Arthur, Ramiel's lord and master who he quietly held with contempt. A slight heat burned in my chest.
I could only squeeze a burning curse deep from the bottom of my heart.
I stepped out of the comfort of the shade, boldly accepting Arthur's challenge like it almost wasn't a stupid death wish. Even Arthur seemed a little surprised, then amused but lightly.
I couldn't blame him. I'd also shake my head in embarrassment if I could, but obviously Ramiel's twisted sense of dignity and will wouldn't even let me feel shame or think about such.
If anything, i could feel a hot, burning passion to put Arthur in his place.
Was the original of this body delusional? Just how far did his twisted pride and hate go to cloud his basic sense of reasoning and logic?
Shifting through Ramiel's memories, there had never been a single time he won against Arthur in anything. Nothing. Especially a sword fight. All of it ended in a flawless and shamefully domination and victory from Arthur. I knew because those pieces of memories were tainted in the hateful red and curses of the original Ramiel's passion.
And this was even before they both Awakened. But Ramiel could barely even be called an Awakened with stats like his.
And Arthur...i had no idea what his stats were exactly. But i knew he was by far more stronger than i currently was.
"Don't worry. I know you only just recovered, so it's going to be a light spar. No Magic or Affinity. I won't even use my Trait. Just a few light swings and exchanges, eh?" Arthur said, casually getting into position after i picked a training sword from nearby.
I said nothing and did the same, filing away the small detail that Arthur had a Trait to the back of my mind. It triggered a part of Ramiel's discordant memories a bit, but nothing specific about it came up for now.
Plus i couldn't be distracted. I currently had more immediate things racing through my mind as Arthur and i slowly circled eachother, training swords in hand.
How the hell was i supposed to get out of this?
***
Ramiel was also a Swordsman, the Job classification on the status screen said so. Now whether or not he was a good or particularly talented Swordsman was a whole other different thing.
But what this meant was—
'I still have hope.'
Quietly, swallowing down my dread and hoping i didn't look as panicky and sweaty as i felt, i shot my eyes under the sunlight and pulled deep into the countless discordant fragments of Ramiel's memories — his intuition and thought — anything at all that covered with the experience of wielding a sword, no matter how basic and fundamental.
It wasn't easy. I had spent the last two weeks sifting and safely separating Ramiel's thoughts and memories from my own to avoid something like a collision of personality or corruption from the other.
But when i actively tried to dive deep into the subconsciousness myself, it was like plunging myself into an entire ocean to find a needle while hoping i don't drown or get crushed by the pressure.
Ramiel's memories and feelings were so twisted and aggressive, i could feel countless negative emotions trying to stir from the deepest darkest corners of my heart, trying to burst out if i was so much as careless. All this just because i was trying to recall any memories where he used a sword.
"Are you ready?" Arthur said.
Sweat beaded against my forehead as my brows crumpled. "...Yes."
I suppressed the strange urge to growl and pulled myself out of the boiling cauldron of the original Ramiel's twisted passion and stared forward with an intense gaze.
It was fleeting, but i managed to get something.
Arthur, leisurely pacing around me, looked amused.
"You look fired up."
"Is that so, young master?"
Arthur dragged the tip of his wooden sword through the ground just behind his feet, drawing a shallow line.
"It's good," he nodded, "you can take the first move. I'll defend. Try to land a single blow on me, or push me beyond this boundary."
A handicap.
'Seems easy enough.'
It wasn't.
Before i could properly regret those words my body lunged forward almost on its own. Ramiel's impulsive nature couldn't stomach it any longer, and to him, Arthur's handicap was just another facet of shame and mockery against his stupid pride.
"Fierce on the get-go as always!" Arthur exclaimed without even taking a stance. He seemed to be really enjoying this, his body glistenined under sweat and sunlight.
I gripped the wooden long sword with two hands and drew a rising diagonal swing for his head. That annoyingly handsome face had been irking for a while now; Ramiel and i felt the unified urge to scar it.
Even with my lack of experience, i could at least manage a simple swing, right?
Not so much.
Arthur leisurely side stepped like he was dodging the wind, and tripped my left leg with the tip of his wooden sword.
"And as always, your stance is full of holes," he laughed, watching me stumble forward and over the line.
"Your swing was too wide. You still have the habit of loosely widening your stance, especially your back foot," he pointed the tip of his sword against my left leg. "You're always bold with your advances, often going in fiercely with a surge from the start. But that has made you too expressive and easy to predict."
I tried to seriously regard Arthur's words by committing them to mind, but honestly it was almost hard to take any of this seriously while i was easily tripped over like that.
Plus, something about Arthur's cheeky know-it-all nagging voice made me feel mildly irritated thanks to Ramiel.
Still, i controlled my expression and balanced straight back up on my feet and nodded.
Arthur and i took our positions back again, with him back to standing just before the line. I gripped the wooden sword tightly in my grasp, taking a deep breath and summoning enough courage for what was about to happen.
Fortunately, some of the habits Ramiel had were still left in the body, including slme basic swordsmanship skills to say the least. That meant, even if it all felt awkward and strange to my 21st century mind, i wasn't entirely a beginner with the sword.
My new body could balance slightly more better, and react a fraction more faster than a completely untrained one, even on reflex. That was how i was barely able to avoid smashing face first into the ground when Arthur tripped me the first time.
The second time? Not so much.
"Oof— ugh!" A muffled groan pressed out of my lips as my world literally did a flip and the next thing i knew, i was gracelessly sprawled against my back, staring at the drifting white clouds in the blue sky.
'What the hell was that?'
I couldn't explain what just happened. The last two seconds were like a lag in reality to me. One moment, i was on the offensive, exchanging blows and trying to force Arthur over the line, the next everything spun and my back hurt.
My chest was heaving heavily and my forehead was soaked with sweat.
"You still need to improve your stamina. But since you've been under the weather for the last two weeks, let's chalk it up to your recovery," Arthur pointed out standing over me. I couldn't see his face, but hear his voice.
"With that said, let's stop here. I think I've gotten a good enough workout session for today, and i don't want to push you any harder than this while you're still recovering."
"... Right."
And that was it. That was the end of my and Arthur's spar. A pathetically short display. Even Arthur called it 'A workout'. If it wasn't all that clear before, this exchange put in perspective the disparity between the Young Vermont and I.
In particular, how much work i had to do, going forward.