The Do-Over System:My Beloved is the Villain! - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Training Arc 2

Over the following months, Aeliana committed herself to training with Kael. The once-clumsy stances and awkward sword grips began to smooth out as she gained strength and confidence. Her footwork improved, and she began to anticipate Kael’s movements more effectively. Kael, for his part, was patient yet firm, pushing her to her limits but never too far. He encouraged her victories and constructively critiqued her missteps.

Lucian watched from the sidelines during their sessions whenever his duties allowed.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the training grounds in hues of gold and amber, Lucian stepped onto the sparring field. Kael had just called for a break, handing Aeliana a flask of water as she wiped her brow.

Aeliana beamed, still catching her breath. “Thank you.”

Kael chuckled, leaning on his training sword. “She’s a quick learner. A bit too eager sometimes, but her magic compensates when her physical strength wavers.”

Lucian’s expression darkened slightly at Kael’s words. He stepped closer, folding his arms as he addressed Aeliana directly. “You’re improving, no doubt about it. But there’s something you need to understand.”

Aeliana tilted her head, her smile faltering. “Whatever do you mean, Lucian?”

“Aeliana, in a real fight, your opponent won’t go easy on you. They won’t pull their punches or give you time to recover. They’ll exploit your weaknesses without hesitation,” Lucian said, his voice firm. “Kael’s training is valuable, but it’s forgiving. The battlefield isn’t.”

Kael straightened, his brow furrowing. “Are you saying I’m not preparing her well enough?”

Lucian shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean. You’ve done an excellent job teaching her the basics and helping her build a foundation. But she needs to experience what it’s like to face someone who won’t hold back.”

Aeliana’s stomach churned at Lucian’s words. She knew he wasn’t trying to belittle her progress, but the gravity of his tone made her nervous. “So, what do you suggest?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Lucian unsheathed his sword—a sleek, obsidian blade etched with crimson runes that seemed to pulse faintly in the fading light. “You’ll spar with me,” he said simply.

Aeliana’s eyes widened. “What? Now?”

He nodded. “Now. No magic, no holding back. I need to see how you handle yourself when the stakes are higher.”

Kael frowned, stepping between them. “Lucian, she’s not ready for that. You could seriously hurt her.”

“I won’t,” Lucian assured him, his eyes never leaving Aeliana. “But she needs to know what it feels like to be pushed to her limits. It’s the only way she’ll grow stronger.”

She glanced at Kael, who looked ready to argue further, but she held up a hand to stop him. “It’s fine, Kael. I’ll do it.”

Kael hesitated before stepping back, his jaw tight. “Just don’t break her, Lucian.”

Lucian smirked faintly, lowering into a ready stance. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Aeliana took a deep breath, steadying herself. The weight of her sword felt heavier than usual in her hands as she faced Lucian. His presence was imposing, his movements calculated and fluid. She knew this wouldn’t be like sparring with Kael—it would be a test of everything she’d learned, and then some.

“Whenever you’re ready, Princess,” Lucian said, his voice calm but challenging.

Aeliana lunged, her sword slicing through the air as she aimed for his side. But Lucian sidestepped effortlessly, his blade coming up to tap her shoulder lightly—a gesture that said I could’ve hit you if I wanted to.

“Too slow,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

Gritting her teeth, Aeliana adjusted her stance and tried again, aiming for his legs this time. Lucian parried with ease, his movements so smooth it was as if he were dancing. She tried to anticipate his next move, but his speed and precision left her scrambling to keep up.

Within minutes, her breaths were ragged, her arms trembling from the effort of holding her sword. Lucian, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, his movements as sharp and controlled as they were at the start.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Also, mind your footing,”

Aeliana growled in frustration, channeling all her strength into one final strike. But Lucian disarmed her with a swift motion, his blade coming to rest lightly against her collarbone.

“Dead,” he said simply, lowering his sword.

Aeliana slumped to her knees, gasping for air. Her pride stung, but more than that, she felt the weight of his words. He was right—she wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Lucian offered her a hand, his expression softening. “You’ve improved a lot, Aeliana. But there’s still a long way to go. Don’t let any of this discourage you—it’s all part of the process.”

She took his hand reluctantly, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “I’ll get there,” she said, her voice determined despite her exhaustion.

The next morning, Kael woke with a pale complexion and feverish eyes. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, it was clear he was unwell. Aeliana frowned, concern etched across her face as she placed a hand on his forehead.

“Kael, you’re burning up,” she said. “You can’t train like this.”

Kael tried to protest, but Lucian intervened. “She’s right. Rest and recover. We’ll resume when you’re better.”

Kael reluctantly agreed, retreating to his quarters under the watchful eye of a servant. Aeliana sighed, glancing at Lucian. “What now? Do we pause everything until Kael is better?”

Lucian smirked, the glint in his crimson eyes both reassuring and unnerving. “Not quite, Princess. I’ll take over your training for the time being. But be warned, my methods are… less forgiving.”

Aeliana arched a brow, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flitting across her face. “How ‘less forgiving’ are we talking?”

“You’ll see,” Lucian said, motioning for her to follow him to the training grounds.

The training grounds felt colder than usual under the overcast sky, the atmosphere heavier with Lucian’s presence. He handed Aeliana a new training sword—a slimmer, sharper replica of a real blade, far different from the dulled weapons she had been practicing with.

“Today’s lesson isn’t just about strength or form,” Lucian said, stepping back and drawing his own sword. His weapon gleamed ominously, its edges as sharp as his gaze. “It’s about adapting to real combat. The stakes will be higher, and so will the consequences of your mistakes.”

Aeliana swallowed hard but nodded, gripping the hilt of her sword tightly. “I’m ready.”

“We’ll see.” Lucian took his stance, his movements fluid and precise. “Defend yourself.”

Before she could fully process his words, Lucian lunged. His attack was swift and unrelenting, the clash of their swords echoing through the grounds. Aeliana struggled to keep up, her arms straining under the weight of her blade. Lucian wasn’t holding back—not entirely, at least.

Her footwork faltered as she stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding a strike that would have left her unarmed. Lucian pressed forward, his attacks relentless but controlled, forcing her to think quickly and move faster.

“You’re hesitating,” he said, his voice cutting through the sound of clashing metal. “In a real fight, hesitation gets you killed.”

She countered his next attack. She managed to parry his blade, but the force of his strike sent a jolt through her arms, nearly making her drop her sword.

Lucian’s expression remained unreadable as he adjusted his stance. “You’re relying too much on your instincts and not enough on strategy. Anticipate my next move, don’t just react to it.”

She nodded, trying to focus, but her fatigue was beginning to show. Sweat dripped down her brow, and her muscles ached with every movement. She swung her blade, aiming for his side, but he sidestepped effortlessly.

Before she could recover, Lucian countered with a swift strike that grazed her shoulder. The sharp pain made her gasp, and she stumbled back, clutching the wound as blood seeped through her sleeve.

Lucian immediately lowered his weapon, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. “Aeliana, are you—”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted, though her voice wavered. She straightened, wincing as she adjusted her grip on her sword. “Keep going.”

Lucian frowned, clearly debating whether to continue, but her determination seemed to sway him. “You’re bleeding.”

“And I’ll bleed more if I’m not ready for a real fight,” she said firmly. “I can handle this.”

A flicker of pride crossed Lucian’s face, though his tone remained stern. “Very well. But if it gets worse, we stop. Understood?”

“Understood,” she said, tightening her grip on her sword despite the throbbing pain in her shoulder.

Aeliana fought through the pain, focusing on her movements and trying to anticipate his next attack as he had instructed. She began to notice patterns in his strikes, subtle tells that hinted at his next move.

By the time they finished, Aeliana was battered and exhausted but still standing. Lucian sheathed his sword, a rare smile gracing his lips as he approached her.

“You did well,” he said, his tone softer now. “Better than I expected.”

Aeliana managed a weak smile, her legs trembling beneath her. “You’re not exactly the easiest teacher.”

Lucian chuckled, placing a hand on her uninjured shoulder. “You wouldn’t learn anything if I were.”

As they walked back to the manor, Aeliana glanced at him, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten.