It was already the third day since he was discharged from the hospital.
“Keep going!” Mary von Bayern, his new instructor, shouted from behind. “You’re doing well, Fritz!”
Fritz, on the other hand, felt the strain of his armor, which consisted only of the standard Orellian infantry gear: a steel cuirass, gauntlets, bracers, and greaves. Considering his weakened state, Fritz struggled even with the basic weight of these items.
It was already his third lap, and he felt winded. His muscles screamed and ached as he circled the path on the palace’s lawn. The heat from the noon sun didn’t help, further heating his overworked body.
Behind him, Mary caught up to him. Unlike him, she jogged at a light pace, barely even affected by the physical demands of this training, even if she had been running with him from the start.
“You look like you’re about to die,” Mary pointed out.
“Nope. I’m good,” Fritz said, barely able to breathe. “I can still go two or three more laps.”
He picked up his pace, finishing this lap when he crossed the markings on the ground. That raised his spirit further, pushing Fritz to go onwards. He forced himself into two more laps, before promptly collapsing on his knees at the finish line.
He breathed in and out, his body slightly shaking.
“Five laps,” Mary said, standing beside him. She barely even broke a sweat, even right now, only further indicating the gap between him and her. That somewhat irritated Fritz. It only made him want to run further if it meant he wouldn’t be this weakling on his knees.
“Not enough,” Fritz said, attempting to stand up. “I need to go further.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Mary said. “We’re only just warming you up, anyway. We haven’t started yet. Besides, you shouldn’t rush yourself, only to hurt yourself. The path to growth shouldn’t be reckless bursts, it’s calculated steadiness.”
“Not in my case when I have a job to do,” Fritz said, readying himself. “I’ll be running now.”
He immediately jogged away, leaving behind Mary, who simply crossed her arms. Fritz circled the fields four more times, each lap further degrading his remaining stamina.
By the end of it, he finally gave up and went to a pavilion nearby. The two passed through the gardens, before entering, where the Queen and his older brother, Hermann Rolentz, were waiting, both of them drinking tea.
Hermann stared at Fritz briefly, his face empty and neutral as he observed him with his green eyes.
Ever since he was informed of what had happened to Fritz yesterday, he seemed to have gone from a brief phase of shock before settling into this…neutrality. He found it quite disconcerting whenever he met people who were ‘close’ to him, or ‘family’.
I guess…to them, I am disconcerting. Fritz breathed in and out, trying to regain air in his lungs. Having the old Fritz changed to someone like me, I wouldn’t react positively either if I were them.
He tried to smile.
“I just finished—”
“He did fairly well again,” Mary praised behind him. The knight however remained equally neutral, though her voice still had that hint of pity and concern. “Regardless, he’s far from the old Fritz. I think I can test his magic by tomorrow, and see if things are still out there, but I doubt it…”
“Would he need a special elixir to boost himself?” Cecilia asked, calmly grabbing a piece of sweet biscuit on the plate in front of her. “Because if he needs one, I think I can procure it.”
“Perhaps, yes. His body is practically on the lowest end of Tier I. I estimate that it’ll take a year or two before he can be even somewhere close to me,” Mary sighed. “And that’s assuming he works himself to the bone.”
“I am already planning to do that,” Fritz said, once again. “Besides, I am equally pissed at being this weak anyway. It’s in my interest to build back up.”
Hermann finally frowned.
“Fritz, you should reconsider this job,” Hermann said. “Father needs help at running our business anyway. I already talked to Her Majesty in great detail. You’ll be endangering yourself choosing this path at this state.”
“I said I can do it,” Fritz replied, straightening himself. “I did my job well before, didn’t I? It’s no different now, and this time, I’ve learned from that incident. I’ll get myself back on track—”
“Tell me, when is your birthday, Fritz?”
Fritz stopped, his mind coming up empty. He tried to pull out a number from his head, but he failed. He had only been reading history books and his mission records…not his actual personal details, and his memories still hadn’t returned.
He had no answer.
Hermann shook his head.
“My little brother needs to recover, Your Majesty,” Hermann said to Cecilia. “He’s not in the right mental state anymore. You should recognize that.”
“He chose this, Mr. Rolentz,” Cecilia calmly replied. “If he chooses to continue leading the Decree Bureau, and as you can see he is working to live up to his former name, then what right do you have to deny him of that?”
Hermann frowned. He stood up, clearly disappointed.
“This job already bought you enough trouble,” Hermann said to Fritz. “Even now, with your memories gone, you’re still digging your grave. I don’t know what I can do to you.”
He stepped away from the table, before bowing to Cecilia.
“Thank you for receiving me as your audience, Your Majesty,” Hermann said.
“No worries. It was a pleasing talk, Mr. Rolentz.”A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“I greatly appreciate your constant help,” he turned back to Fritz. “Hopefully, a visit with our father will change your mind, but I don’t know anymore. Thank you all for having me here.”
Cecilia sipped her tea as Hermann left.
“You don’t remember him either, do you?” Cecilia asked.
“No,” Fritz answered, frank and honest. “I can understand why he’s…a bit unstable, since yesterday.”
“Indeed,” Cecilia nodded. “Anyhow, I have meetings to attend. Mary, don’t you push him too hard. Fritz, just try your best, but again, there is no rush. I’m holding well on my end. As long as you’re making decent progress, the Decree Bureau can temporarily stand down.”
“I still haven’t met the rest of the bureau,” Fritz said. “I have to talk to them if I’m going to be their leader.”
“It’s only a four-person team including you anyway,” Mary said. “So it’s not like you’ll be leading an army of officials.”
“So three other people are in the Decree Bureau?” Fritz asked, frowning a bit. “That means they’re my close friends?”
“Indeed,” Mary said. “One of them is from the military. One is a noble knight from the Order of St. Frederick. The last one is a priest, and you of course. They’ve been back to their old jobs ever since the incident, but you can recall them once you are ready.”
“I don’t want to disappoint them then,” Fritz said. He went to the table, grabbed the cup that contained his water, and drank it all. He turned back to Mary. “All right, I’m ready. Can I please hold an actual sword and try it out now?”
Mary frowned.
“You are rushing things too much. Cecilia here just said that you shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”
“I’ll fight you,” Fritz challenged. “I’ll see which skills I still remember. I’ll use them all to fight you. That’ll help you assess what I need to learn.”
On the side, Cecilia turned to Fritz, somewhat surprised by the conviction in his voice. A subtle smile grew on her face, impressed.
“Give him his rapier back, Mary,” Cecilia ordered.
“But, Cecilia—” Mary protested.
“Just do it. He wants it, and he seems to have set his soul to that idea. Besides, I too am curious to see what he has in store.”
+++
Alright…time to prove myself once and for all, and in front of Her Majesty no less.
Fritz steadied himself. The rapier that Cecilia personally handed to him was the same rapier that the old Fritz once held. He inspected it briefly, holding it with his right hand. It felt somewhat heavier than the blade he had used back then as an assassin. It was longer too, as he estimated it to be forty-six inches in length, above his forty-two-inch rapier.
He wasn’t the best at swordsmanship. That wasn’t exactly where his expertise lay. If an assassin was already forced into a silly, melee brawl, he had already failed at his job. Ranged attacks had always been Fritz’s forte, and if it wasn’t that, it was other underhanded methods.
A sword to him had always been a secondary weapon. But now…
It’s what I need to master. He breathed in deeply. Let’s do this.
“I have one request,” Fritz said, as Mary readied her broader longsword. It seemed significantly heavier than what Fritz held, which was a cause of concern for him. Still, he wanted this. “I want the use of magic to be allowed.”
That raised Mary’s eyebrows, once again bewildered.
“What? Are you serious? What if I injure you?”
“I want to see his magic though,” Cecilia blurted out, as she watched from the sidelines on the green field. “...I meant, let him have his request. You are free to use magic, Mary, as long as you don’t kill him.”
“I am a Tier VII soul arts user,” Mary protested. “What even is the point of a magical sword fight, when he has nothing? He’ll be left crushed like an ant.”
“Then crush me like an ant,” Fritz challenged. “That’s exactly what I want. If I can’t see what I need to achieve, and if I can’t see the reality of my limitations and capabilities, then you’re not setting me up for success.”
“He has a point,” Cecilia nodded. “Besides…Mary…I think you can understand anyway.”
“He’s not the old—”
“Just do it.”
Mary stopped, sighing to herself. Fritz was a bit confused about what the two women were arguing about until Mary turned to Fritz.
“Don’t hold back,” Fritz said. “Do your best.”
“That’s supposed to be my line, but whatever,” her eyes glowed blue, as she channeled her sword arts. The longsword she held also glowed a light blue, as the temperature around her began dropping rapidly. “I guess I’ll relish in beating the Royal Messenger at last.”
Fritz charged in on her when they finally started. He had already prepared this, the weapon he envisioned as his trump card when a superior mage had him in their sight—‘Arcane Suppression’.
A pulse of purplish light counteracted the knight’s attack, her magic momentarily ceasing. She frowned, realizing what Fritz just did, before blocking the first thrust that came from Fritz.
“So you’ve already started using your skills?” Mary asked, striking his sword’s thrust away from her with a quick parry. “You’re now reminding me of your old self.”
The two battled for supremacy, as Mary placed her strength against him, each slash so heavy that Fritz struggled to parry it off. But he had already calculated this phase of his tactical plans. Activating his skill ‘Great Silence’ with a snap of his left finger, a dark cloud descended around them.
Mary began missing her attacks, which seemed to trigger her. The disruption effect of his first skill already began to taper off, and her sword started to swing in dangerous, almost lethal ways. With her vision and hearing reduced, a single mistake from her could end him.
But Fritz audaciously charged in, exploiting her weakness by parrying her confused strikes carefully, trying to stop her sword from striking him while he searched for an opening.
It was difficult, as her strength greatly exceeded him, that his bones felt like it was cracking from each strike that he blocked. The only hope he had was that his parries were flexible, allowing the energy of her strikes to be expended somewhat uselessly.
Then, with a carefully coordinated thrust, Fritz completed his counterattack, his sword stopping just close to her neck as the shroud of darkness around them dissipated.
Mary stared at his rapier in shock, disbelieving the results.
“Got you,” Fritz declared with ragged breaths as sweat trickled down his hair. “Unfortunately, it’s too disappointing. You’re nowhere near using a fraction of your real power, Dame Mary.”
“You said I should use my magic,” Mary replied, frowning. “Not that I should use my full potential.”
“I wouldn’t have gotten this close if you used your full potential, and I said ‘don’t hold back’ quite clearly.”
“What would the point of that be? Aren’t we assessing your skill here instead of your strength?” Mary smiled, impressed. “Based on this fight, you still are a swordsman, Fritz, even if weakened.”
“Bravo!” Cecilia clapped from the sidelines. “That was exhilarating. It seems that Fritz still understands the fundamentals of using a sword at least.”
Fritz pulled his rapier away from Mary, planting it on the ground with a heavy breath. His bones already felt wrong, like some of them were badly cracked after resisting Mary’s attacks. Still, Fritz steeled himself.
“I want round two,” Fritz demanded, once again gaining the attention of the two. “Immediately.”
“No rest?” Mary asked.
“No rest, yes,” Fritz pulled his rapier back up again. Cecilia, noticing that they were readying once more, walked away. “I want you to try to knock me down, Dame Mary.”
A flash of wounded pride appeared on Mary’s eyes, as she readied her longsword.
“All right,” Mary said, readying herself. “Let’s see how you play defense again.”
Come at me then.
His rapier met her longsword again.