The Dove of The Lost Lands | English Version | Slow Update

Chapter 2

Invitation

"Rise now!"

Lady Varrella's command was firm. My eyes were heavy, my arms and hands trembled, and my entire body was on the verge of collapse.

I shook my head. Despite my frailty, I managed to utter a few words.

"Lady, I can't go on..."

I couldn't fully comprehend the reason behind all this. I had no clue where it stemmed from or how it began. All I recall is that everything transpired abruptly.

I anticipated Lady Varrella to raise her voice again and persist with our training, but instead, she simply walked past me and returned to her house.

Before disappearing inside, Lady Varrella spoke.

"We will resume our unfinished training tomorrow," she declared, continuing her ascent indoors.

A weight seemed to lift from my body. I barely noticed the ground beneath me, as all my energy had been drained by our exertions. Despite my weary eyes, I couldn't ignore the sight of the long wooden object resembling a sword.

Everything began with the councilman's visit. Because weeks later, Lady Varrella gradually started assigning me unusual tasks.

In the first week, she had me draw water from the well near the stable. She filled my tall container to the top.

She had me repeat this task daily. Initially, it was incredibly challenging for me until my body adapted.

But just when I thought it was over, I realized it was merely the beginning. The next week arrived, and she crafted a wooden sword for me. I was clueless about its purpose until the third week rolled around.

I accomplished everything she asked of me. Running errands from town to her house, and other physically demanding tasks.

At first, I assumed Lady Varrella simply wanted to torment me. I questioned myself if I had failed to meet her standards in some way.

It was only when I felt the first strike from the wooden sword she wielded that I understood. Lady Varrella's gaze was intense as she observed me. The sharpness and determination to make me learn from what she entrusted was palpable.

"Stand up, Yonahara. Your weakness is unsuitable for this world. If you continue to wallow in self-pity, and if you choose to be as naive as the rest of the commoners, you don't deserve to stay here."

I bit my lower lip. I tightened my grip on the wooden sword in my hand. Every word Lady Varrella spoke resonated with truth and significance.

"Suppress your tears! I don't tolerate weakness in my home!"

I shut my eyes, holding back what needed to be restrained. Upon opening them, I met Lady Varrella's gaze. Just like me, she returned the direct stare. Eye to eye.

Exhausted from the day's training, I retreated to my sleeping quarters in the stable. Our activities remained a mystery to me. It was only recently that I discovered Lady Varrella's proficiency with a sword.

As she instructed me in sword handling, she first demonstrated her technique. Watching the grace of her movements, I was captivated. Her fluidity and precision were akin to a dancer's performance on stage.

There was elegance, yet agility and sharpness were paramount. It was as if she was dancing in artistry, but beneath it lurked a lethal potency.

"Freshen up and dress; we have a place to be," she instructed before retreating to her room.