Heir Of The Supreme
Chapter 69: Home Tutor Bodyguard Blaine! (2)

Chapter 69: Home Tutor Bodyguard Blaine! (2)

Cecelia took a deep breath, gathering her resolve before speaking.

"I... I want you to train me. Please teach me how to fight."

The request hung in the air delicately, threatening to snap under the weight of silence.

Blaine stood motionless, his auburn hair catching the dim torchlight, casting faint shadows across his sharp features.

Blaine emotionlessly blinked his aquamarine eyes several times, and just when it looked like he was about to move his head to nod... He shook it instead.

Cecelia’s heart plummeted.

After all her mental preparation and mustering every ounce of courage, she was met with rejection.

Her fingers clenched into tight fists as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Why?" she questioned, her face laden with confusion. "Is there a reason you won’t train me?"

Blaine gave a simple nod.

Cecelia bit her lip as her chest tightened.

"You’re already so injured. If I could at least fend for myself, it’d be easier for you to fight," Cecelia pleaded, voice trembling slightly. "You wouldn’t have to watch over me all the time."

A shadow passed over Blaine’s face, but his expression remained unreadable.

The wounds from their last battle had marred his body, a painful reminder of her helplessness.

If not for her, he would’ve killed the Unknown with far greater ease.

Both of them clearly knew this fact, so why did the boy refuse? Cecelia couldn’t understand.

"Is it because I’m not talented enough?" she pressed. "Whatever I lack, I’ll make up for by working twice—no, three times as hard!"

Blaine shook his head again, as emotionless as ever.

Cecelia huffed in frustration. "If it’s not because of my talent... Then why?"

A long silence stretched between them.

Realizing that he couldn’t get out of this with a simple nod or shake of his head, Blaine finally spoke. His melodious voice was quiet yet firm.

"I’ve... Never taught anyone before."

Cecelia blinked in disbelief.

"...That’s your reason?"

Blaine gave a slight nod in affirmation.

For a moment, Cecelia just stared at him.

"Seriously?"

Seriously, this boy was too hard for Cecelia to understand. From the way he responded, she assumed something was far worse.

Instead, it was just... that?

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she lifted the dagger in her hand and passed it to him.

"Then just show me the motions," she insisted. "I’ll copy you. Simple enough, right?"

Blaine’s eyes narrowed slightly.

While he disliked talking, he hated inefficiency just as much. Explaining things to her would be far faster if he just forced himself to speak.

"A real battle isn’t that simple," he finally said.

Cecelia raised an eyebrow.

"How so? Don’t people just perform what they practiced?"

Blaine sighed softly, a rare sign of irritation breaking through his usually taciturn demeanour.

"Yes, but that’s not the same thing," he explained. "Simply memorizing a set of motions in chronological order won’t help you. Every fight is different. On one, the ground could be soft like grass, whilst on another, hard like stone. A one-size-fits-all approach will get you nowhere."

Blaine met Cecelia’s eyes.

"The most important things are flexibility and adaptability. Strength and speed might help you kill your opponent, but people who can’t adapt don’t live long."

Cecelia found herself staring at him in surprise.

’...Wow.’

She had never heard Blaine speak this much before. His voice, something she’d never heard before today, carried an unexpected weight, no doubt stemming from experience.

For someone who claimed to have never taught someone, their answers were surprisingly in-depth and descriptive—easy enough for her to understand, at least.

Blaine was starting to feel more like an actual member of the Kingdom’s Royal Guard.

"Then just tell me what I should do," she said.

Blaine hesitated as though searching for the right words. Given how little he spoke, he’d gotten out of practice.

"You can learn the basics," he finally said. "A downward strike, a horizontal slash, a stab. How you use them in a fight is up to you."

Cecelia’s eyes shined with determination.

She had learned those from various tutors before, but this was different.

Blaine was the youngest knight in history!

His idea of "basic attacks" could very well be completely different from what she had been taught.

"Then you can teach me that, right?" she asked, her voice laden with a mixture of hope and expectation.

Blaine gave a half-hearted nod.

Despite his detailed explanations, Cecelia could tell Blaine had no real intention of actually teaching her.

The only reason he agreed at all was because her earlier words had irked him.

Somehow, her innocent, well-meaning ignorance had affected him far more than any insult she had thrown at him in the past.

Tightly gripping the dagger, Blaine rose to his feet and stepped back several paces.

Then, with precise control, he lifted the dagger above his head and brought it down in a clean, fluid motion. The blade cut through the air with an audible whistle.

Next, he executed a horizontal slash and then a swift, decisive stab.

His movements were smooth as if practiced thousands of times before.

Each strike was delivered with surgical precision, no wasted effort, and no unnecessary flourishes.

Cecelia watched his performance with rapt attention, her eyes greedily studying his every move.

Finishing his demonstration, Blaine wordlessly handed the dagger back to Cecelia and sat down.

It was her turn now.

Instead of trying to replicate his attacks, Cecelia instead stared at the young knight incredulously.

"You didn’t... Move your legs at all? The only muscles you used were in your arm!"

Cecelia’s tutors had always drilled one thing into her during her lessons, at least the ones she had the motivation to even attend. Not having mana made her practically give up on learning how to fight after all.

She only remembered this particular one because its origins were routed in science.

’Force was equal to mass times acceleration.’

As a scientist herself, she found that this explanation was both logical and made perfect sense.

If a speeding car and a small snail were to collide, the tiny snail would, unfortunately, be launched through the air from the car’s force.

Force was vital for everything in a fight, whether it be attacking or defending. Without enough force, you wouldn’t be able to do either.

As such, applying the rules of force to every movement was key. This is also why combatants emphasize using one’s entire body in every attack.

Utilizing their entire body allowed them to work with more mass than just using their arms.

The only part of him that moved was his arm, and that’s it.

Cecelia was noticeably baffled by this.

Blaine’s lips frowned slightly.

He really hated talking, but this girl was far too persistent.

"If you’re in a situation where you have no space to move, what will you do then?" he asked. "Kindly ask your enemy to give you some room?"

Cecelia opened her mouth to argue but hesitated.

Blaine continued, "If you have space to move, you can just figure it out and add that on later."

Cecelia felt an overwhelming urge to groan.

Blaine was essentially just telling her to ’learn as you go.’

How was she supposed to teach herself proper footwork? Did he really expect her to just figure everything out on her own?

How would anyone be able to do that? How could Blaine put such impossible expectations on her?

No one would be able to grasp things that way!

Unfortunately for her... Her newfound mentor learned using just that.

Blaine possessed a monstrous talent in combat from birth, eclipsing that of even his legendary father.

For every new thing he was taught, Blaine would gain ten new insights.

It was the equivalent of learning multiplication from just being shown numbers, totally skipping the process of learning addition and subtraction.

However, that’s where the problems lay.

Since he skipped most of the tedious learning process, Blaine had no idea what people tended to struggle with or had trouble comprehending.

To him, it was so blatantly obvious that it didn’t need to be mentioned.

Even now, he was silently questioning the princess’s mental capacity.

Having known no better... He expected the same from Cecelia.

Cecelia wanted to curse her earlier self for thinking that the boy would make a good teacher.

Instead ... He was more demonic than a drill sergeant.