The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 194 - The Things We See, Want To See, Were Wanted To See... Please Stop Looking At Me Like That

Chapter 194: Chapter 194 - The Things We See, Want To See, Were Wanted To See... Please Stop Looking At Me Like That

The elder’s face remained stern as he considered their request. The sound of heavy blades swiping through forms and the calls of the overseeing elder carried clearly from the training area set up behind him. Thick canvas kept the angles covered from view, proving how they preferred some parts of their fame to be secretive.

"Our training methods have served us well for generations."

His tone carried pride... and wariness. The Frozen Duskblade inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the implied defense of their practices. Most long standing families with - what they considered - unique forms and training often grew wary around her.

"I’ve heard stories of the Yecine style since my first Descent. I’ve also met a few in my time. It would be... educational to witness those still young in their practice."

Zyris barely contained a delighted gasp at hearing her idol speak twice in so many minutes! Even Ondua’s composed expression flickered briefly. He cleared his throat and added his own diplomatic words.

"The competition approaches quickly. Perhaps the pressure of being watched would benefit our young participants."

The Yecine’s eyes narrowed at this suggestion from the Goltbred. The man’s daughter was not participating, despite the display she made of things at her bridal ritual. The Iralev house was also not within the three regions, so there was no obvious plot he could think of.

"You may observe. Briefly."

With a confident voice, the elder led them to a position where they could observe without disrupting the practice. The five young sword wielders continued their synchronized forms, heavy blades cutting through patterns familiar to them.

The Frozen Duskblade’s experienced eye noted the traditional elements - stable stances, powerful strikes, deliberate recoveries to ready into the next move. Two of the group showed marginally better control than their companions.

"W-what do you think?"

The Talcres woman spoke after a short while, the target of her question clear. Before Corde could think to respond, a familiar twilight-hued shape descended gracefully into the training area. The bird’s arrival drew all eyes to where it landed on the shoulder of one of the practicing swordsmen.

The chosen perch stood out among the small group - the young man’s form was a bit more refined and their movements still more precise despite an obvious fatigue. They also didn’t show any of the emotion on their face over the creature’s presence that a few others did.

The elder in charge of training let out a slow breath, recognizing that twice lecturing the one receiving the messenger was fruitless. But his eyes cut over to one of the men watching. He could lodge a complaint with Ondua!

’So this is the Yecine heir. Their form is... adequate.’

Corde watched the one who had drawn the Skydancer’s attention execute basics proficiently, as did the cultivator beside them. She had seen similar displays countless times across the continent.

Families proud of their heritage. Cultivating and teaching combat exactly as their ancestors had done. She had learned from the Iralev family herself, though she was adopted after she already obtained some measure of fame.

This methodical approach had its merits. Things that worked rarely stop working without a reason. But it also had its limitations. Especially if it made a group grow resistant to change and innovation.

Zyris shifted eagerly beside her, eyes clearly hoping for some profound observation. Ondua maintained his dignity despite his own apparent interest in her assessment. The elder watched all of them with careful attention... regretting that he hadn’t thought of an adequate reason to refuse.

The bird preened on Qatrand er Yecine’s shoulder before taking wing again. Its selection had at least confirmed the heir’s identity without needing to ask. Yet, Corde found herself more curious about why she had been led here to witness such an... ordinary training.

The Whispering Skydancer circled overhead in a spiral before departing toward the administrative pavilion once again. Corde briefly watched it go. The contrast between such innovative work and this rigid training was... interesting.

’There must be something I’m missing.’

The practice session began to conclude when the elder called for final forms. Their heavy blades moved in the prescribed sequence. Each strike and stance drilled into muscle memory through countless repetitions.

All five were copies but for their mildly different physical traits.

’Traditional to a fault. Little allowance for adaptation.’

Even the two more skilled practitioners seemed bound by these constraints. The swordswoman wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or not. After all, she hadn’t expected her thought to search for a competent wielder of a blade to teach would ever conclude so easily.

"We appreciate you taking time to observe our practice. There are still family discussions for us to yet get through."

The elder’s polite dismissal was clear. Ondua nodded graciously while Zyris looked ready to protest the brief visit. She hadn’t heard any comments from the Frozen Duskblade! That woman had seen what she came to see - or rather, hadn’t seen or known what she expected.

As they walked away from the Yecine area, she filed away her observations for future reference. Behind them, the raven-haired heir was still practicing forms alone in the setting sun.

’If I can keep the potential to adjust its weight and thrust the tip of my sword in my mind between these two stances, then...’

In this environment, she had ’forbidden’ herself from directly practicing the ideas Elua had started her on. It didn’t stop her from imagining it. The competition would reveal soon enough whether Corde’s initial assessment was accurate.

The relative quiet made the barely contained energy of the Talcres woman all the more apparent. Her excitement built with each step as they put distance between them and the Yecine camp. At a certain point she simply couldn’t hold it back any longer.

"Did you see how steady they were? Even after hours of practice! The way they twist the hilt during-"

Zyris caught herself and glanced anxiously at the Frozen Duskblade walking beside them. She had hoped to hear an assessment while they were there and now just hoped the woman would speak at all again before they parted.

But it was still embarrassing to try and sound like she knew what she was talking about next to a real expert!

Corde’s deep blue battle dress swayed with each intentional step. Her expression remained rather neutral. The other woman’s enthusiasm, while excessive, showed a trained eye for detail.

"The stances were... traditional."

The careful non-assessment in her low voice only encouraged Zyris further. She gestured with her hands as she spoke this time as her movements became more animated.

"Oh yes! You can really see how their style developed to support those heavy blades. The way they plant their feet and control the weight distribution with their hips is fascinating from a technical perspective."

Ondua watched the exchange with poorly hidden amusement and tempered enthusiasm. His friend practically vibrated with joy enough for the both of them while walking beside her idol. He had to hold back so as not to overwhelm the swordswoman.

Still, Zyris *had* managed to make legitimate observations about the training they witnessed.

"I’m sure Qatrand and my daughter would appreciate your analysis. That’s why I wouldn’t say anything to them."

His dry comment drew a small laugh from Zyris before she covered her mouth. She was only laughing at thinking of Elua talking for an hour again! Her eyes went wide as she looked at Corde again, hoping the behavior hadn’t been offensive.

"The Yecine seem proud of their methods. I’m sure they are fine with us saying nothing."

The response made Zyris beam. Getting any words from the Frozen Duskblade felt like a victory. She opened her mouth to continue when the Whispering Skydancer passed above them. It was apparently heading toward the Goltbred camp where the evening meals were being prepared.

Ondua’s eyes followed its path thoughtfully.

"Perhaps you would-"

Zyris started before catching herself. Even her enthusiasm couldn’t quite overcome the impropriety of inviting someone to another family’s dinner when she was a guest herself. Though she was sure her companion-in-arms had also been thinking the same thing!

The brunette man noted her moment of restraint with a small smile and nodded at her.

"Our camp would be honored if you’d join us for the evening meal, Lady Iralev."

The Frozen Duskblade’s steps slowed slightly. Behind her stoic expression, she was weighing the professional value of it all. Meeting the Goltbred heiress this way against enduring more of this... enthusiasm.

"Your invitation is generous, but I do have duties to complete before-"

"Oh, but I’d love to-"

Zyris’s interruption earned her a sharp look from the swordswoman that made her shrink back slightly. Corde’s fingers brushed the hilt of her blade - a gesture that seemed more habitual than threatening. But it made the woman babble the rest quickly.

"-to be able to introduce you to Elua and her friends! Her work on the competition grounds is really quite remarkable. She has been explaining it to us when she has time."

"The modifications to the venue... yes. I actually had hoped to discuss those with her soon."

Her tone carried reluctance, but also that same investigative interest that had drawn her to the Yecine training. Part of her couldn’t help but feel bringing the young sigilist up had been intentional. For the Talcres, it really was purposeful.

’I had really only intended to mention Nohre and Fusand but threw their young miss into it for higher success... what relationship do I have to leverage her to meet the pair of orphans we have taken a shine to?’

After a moment’s consideration in which Zyris felt her pride as an adult crumbling, Corde inclined her head slightly to Ondua er Goltbred.

"Perhaps a brief appearance would be fine."

The barely suppressed squeal from the more fanatical of the two suggested this evening’s meal would be anything but *brief*.