I need to grow, here I could be, Don't have to do this perfectly
An old sci-fi novel from his homeworld echoed the sentiments that the General demonstrated today. There is no teacher but the enemy. No one but the enemy will tell you what the enemy is going to do. No one but the enemy will ever teach you how to destroy and conquer. Only the enemy shows you where you are weak. Only the enemy tells you where he is strong. And the rules of the game are what you can do to him and what you can stop him from doing to you.
Try as he might, his enemy this day was far better than he - it would come down to luck as to whether he remained standing at the end of today.
He was seemingly lucky, his stance a true copy of the one Deimos had shown him earlier, his muscles already clinging to the memory of it, already knowing the motion he was asking of them. It would take more than that to 'defeat' the General, he knew, but he was pleased with his attempt at striking the man, acknowledging the words he shot back with a grunt (it was all he could manage in his current state of focussed workout), flinching (grimacing from the flinch as it tugged and pulled at his raw skin), jumping to the side and bring his sword down to attempt to deflect the blade coming towards him.
Deimos might've been holding back, but Chulane still had to work to defend himself, his swordhand ringing from the effort of deflecting, the sheer strength the General wielded something he admired and aspired to achieve himself someday - certainly not today though, he thought with wry amusement as he reflected on the aches and shakes his muscles were sending him.
"I don't think I should push my luck much more today," words were uttered between deep breaths, but he wore a broad grin on his face nonetheless. "I'll be back for more soon though," maybe after I've gotten over this cursed sunburn, he added silently.
Try as he might, his enemy this day was far better than he - it would come down to luck as to whether he remained standing at the end of today.
He was seemingly lucky, his stance a true copy of the one Deimos had shown him earlier, his muscles already clinging to the memory of it, already knowing the motion he was asking of them. It would take more than that to 'defeat' the General, he knew, but he was pleased with his attempt at striking the man, acknowledging the words he shot back with a grunt (it was all he could manage in his current state of focussed workout), flinching (grimacing from the flinch as it tugged and pulled at his raw skin), jumping to the side and bring his sword down to attempt to deflect the blade coming towards him.
Deimos might've been holding back, but Chulane still had to work to defend himself, his swordhand ringing from the effort of deflecting, the sheer strength the General wielded something he admired and aspired to achieve himself someday - certainly not today though, he thought with wry amusement as he reflected on the aches and shakes his muscles were sending him.
"I don't think I should push my luck much more today," words were uttered between deep breaths, but he wore a broad grin on his face nonetheless. "I'll be back for more soon though," maybe after I've gotten over this cursed sunburn, he added silently.
CHULANE
