𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 [𝚐.𝚒 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝚐𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

IX

"Oh my God I'm fucking exhausted."

"You wouldn't be if you didn't overexert yourself everyday."

"Listen smartass," you turned towards Diluc who was leaning against his claymore very unimpressed. "For whatever reason, the knights are not expanding themselves too far outside the wall." You waved your hands frustratingly. "Which means Springvale ain't gettin' shit and I've been helping them with Stormterror's damages!"

Yeah, two months ago, you predicted that Springvale was gonna get fucked and You. Were. Right! The damages were terrible over there despite Dvalin mainly staying around the city. Food carts and roofs were torn apart, trees had fallen over (one time on a house), and the windmill had been broken. Besides those living in the small village, you were the only one helping them out, the rest of the Knights focusing their efforts in the city. That wasn't a bad thing, as the city did get terribly ripped up sometimes, the bad thing was the complete neglect of the other major town in Mondstadt, the country.

It was annoying but you understood why.

He raised his eyebrow. "How bad are the damages?"

You huffed as you pushed yourself off the ground, dirt sticking to elbows and legs. You swung your claymore, an old one of Diluc's that he lended to you until he thought you could get a custom one of your own, and groaned at the strain in your body. "Bad. Luckily no one's been critically injured but there had been some major scraps, infections, and I think someone broke their arm after getting hit by a falling tree."

"And the knight's truly haven't done anything?" Diluc was frowning and you knew the exact thought going through his mind.

You chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, but I get why. Stormterror's really doing his job of being a menace over there, and they've been focusing on the hilichurl groups getting closer to the city."

"Have they been getting closer to Springvale as well?"

"Yup." You said. "But the groups aren't as big as the ones closer to the city, pretty easy to take out."

"What a brightside."

"Don't get sarcastic with me." You heaved yourself into a fighting position, one that Diluc took a quick look over to confirm was acceptable, preparing for another round of sparing.

Diluc matched you, getting into his own stance that had obviously perfected over the years. Your amatuer skills were so glaringly obvious when standing next to him, but you didn't care, you had improved. At least you could now pick the dn thing up.

Claymore training has been the hardest for you. Both the bow and the sword were fairly light and the motions were picked up easily by you, but the weight of the claymore and the wide swings, contrary to the swift movements of the sword, were difficult to get a hang of. You had been training with Diluc for over six months and you still didn't trust yourself to use it on the harder commissions.

You had taken the first swing in this spar, Diluc dodging expertly, weaving around you in a way that looked far too graceful for his chosen weapon.

Dodging. Blocking. Striking.

Over and over you went through the motions focusing on your feet, the way you squeeze your muscles, your form; all very important things when waving around something of such great weight.

You were no match for Diluc and after keeping the spar going until he could tell you were about to collapse, he knocked the claymore from your hands with a resounding clang.

Not even bothering to pick it up, you dropped to the ground again, uncaring of the dirt that stuck to your skin.

Diluc settled his claymore on the ground, walking over to your form and pulling you up by your arms into a sitting position. You looked up at him with exhausted eyes and heaving breath and he had to stop himself from staring at your flushed face.