As the sun rose, marking the beginning of a new day, I rose with excitement as today marked the commencement of my sword training. After three months of solely pushing my physical limits, I feel fit and much more energetic than before.

After having breakfast with my family, I headed straight to the training ground; I had to be there by 10 AM every day. My sister had her training in the afternoon, unlike me, who trained all day. Upon reaching the designated spot, Sir Miguel was already waiting for me; with a simple nod, he welcomed me, to which I reciprocated.

"From now on, your new training begins; you already know the basic sword foundations, but you'll still practice them regularly for a solid foundation."

What he said was right; in my childhood, I recall always practicing, and that's why my sword skills were at a beginner level, not novice as one typically starts. I went to choose a wooden sword, and under Miguel's guidance, I began to wield my sword, making repetitions to perfect my movements.

The first two weeks were only basic handling, especially to get accustomed, which didn't take much time. Afterward, I began my training with duels against Sir Miguel; it was another ordeal as the swords were not made of ordinary wood. Under the evening sun, sounds of pain could be heard; there's no need to say who was suffering.

Every time I swung my sword or tried to find a blind spot, I was struck in sensitive areas mercilessly.

"Aaaarhg"

I felt a blow to the side where my ribs were. I felt an unbearable sharp pain, but I didn't stop counterattacking. After the duels, I always return to my room with bruises all over my body, with no energy to do anything else but rest.

Unlike mine, my sister's duels are more ferocious and ruthless; They move too fast and I can barely see her movements. My sister moves with incredible grace and elegance; it's as if she's dancing on the battlefield. Her hair tied up in a bun and her tight training clothes highlight her curves very well. The truth is, my sister is in very good shape; training undoubtedly yields many results.

Miguel led me to a secluded area, where practice dummies could be seen, and a thought of what would happen next crossed my mind.

"Do you see that dummy over there?" Miguel asks. "From now on, it will become your best friend."

Looking at the dummy he points to, it's a training dummy with the same appearance as the ones protagonists use for sword practice, made of metal and doesn't seem soft at all.

"Next, you will only hit that dummy with vertical movements all day long. At night, you will switch to horizontal movements. There will be no pause whatsoever. If I catch you resting, you don't want to know what will happen to you," Miguel says with an extremely I would be.

Looking around, I can't see any child advocates; this could undoubtedly be considered physical and mental abuse. Putting my hand on my chin, the thought of ending my suffering and misery crosses my mind.

"Move!" Miguel shouts.

"Yes, sir!" Well, nothing in this world is pleasant, I suppose... wiping away my invisible tears, I begin to train.