0Disclaimer: Warhammer Fantasy and Goblin Slayer are the properties of Games Workshop and Kumo Kagyu respectively. I own nothing here except for the few OCs I have created and this story is purely for entertainment purposes only.
Fight with Your Head, Not Just Your Heart
21st of Kaldezeit 2480 IC. Somewhere within the Mountains of the Frontier.
Winter had arrived.
The Frontier was once again slowly being covered with virgin snow as cold winds blew across the land, able to chill a man down to his very bones despite wearing the thickest of furs. And yet, none of these served to affect him overmuch. His mind focused upon the task at hand, as he continued to strike the large pell with his wooden practice sword. All the while quietly counting within his head the number of strikes he had performed.
"Fifty seven…"
Bonk!
"Fifty eight…"
Bonk!
"Fifty nine…"
Bonk!
The sound he made as he struck the wooden practice post passed though the many trees that surrounded him, serving as the only source of disturbance in an otherwise peaceful and picturesque location. It was almost noon, the sun cast a pale light upon the land through the thick clouds above, offering what little warmth it could muster to help ward off the biting chill. Not that he minded much, for he was slowly becoming accustomed to the cold and his efforts helped to warm him further.
He started this simple exercise routine just a few minutes ago, for the first time of this day. And he had been doing so every single day since he started living within the forested mountains of the Northern Frontier.
The wooden sword was rather thick and heavy, more so than a regular steel sword, made even heavier due to the pair of iron bands wrapped around the middle to give it further weight. And his daily exercise consisted of him swinging the heavy wooden sword at the post diagonally at least two hundred times. All for the sole purpose of helping his body grow the strength it needed for the rigors of combat, as well as becoming accustomed to the use of a weapon. Already there were thick callouses forming upon his hands and the muscles upon his arms and upper torso were showing noticeable signs of development.
His training was bearing fruit, all of which he was silently grateful for and even a bit proud of. And yet, he knew he still a had long ways to go. A long ways more before he was ready to exact his vengeance. And for one person in particular, he would never be ready. Not even close.
"Is that all you have to show me today, you little whelp?! "
He paused mid swing, halting his eighty-seventh strike of the day. He resisted the sudden urge to groan and roll his eyes as he calmly shifted his attention towards the harsh and growling voice, steeling his heart for another bout of tongue lashings.
"What do you mean, Master?" He asked, not turning around to face him whilst trying his best to sound as polite as possible.
"Are you blind as well as dumb!? Or has the snow somehow gone and filled that empty head of yours!?" Was the immediate and rather colorful reply to his honest query.
He had long since learned to not respond to his insults and simply allowed him to keep spewing forth his near limitless supply of hot air and venom. Because challenging him was simply a futile effort. His bruises from their previous bout have yet to fully heal.
"Just look at what you are doing!" His Master soon continued. "Are you perhaps hoping to tickle your foes to death with such namby-pamby, pansy-arsed tapping? My grandmother could probably strike much harder than you, Gods bless her poor soul!"
"Then I must strike harder." He concluded, now understanding the reason for his teacher's displeasure. This earned him a hard poke to the head, much to his growing annoyance.
"Of course, Mr. Piss for Brains, what else! You certainly wont be killing a Goblin with your little love taps." Was his stern correction. "Now start from the very beginning, and this time, strike that post like your pathetic life depends on it!"
His words had proven most effective, for he was soon assailing the wooden post once more, and with greater ferocity.
"One!"
BAM!
"Two"
BAM!
"Three!"
BAM!
"Four!"
BAM!
His heavy and hateful blows rang loud and clear through the forest as he hammered away, scaring away quite a few of the local fauna. Every strike showering the snow-covered ground with tiny splinters as the heavy wooden practice sword slowly chipped away at the thick wooden post with every hit. Using all his sorrow, all his pain, and all his rage, to fuel his arms and lend strength to his every blow. Just as his Master ordered, he began attacking the practice post with all his might, as if it was one of those despicable creatures that took everything from him. Everything he ever loved! And it shall die.
All of them shall DIE!
"There, much better! In battle, no matter what sort of weapon you wish to use, always seek to land a killing blow, or inflict such injuries that death is a certainty. Hold nothing back, fight with all your might. And know that your enemies will surely do the same." His Master said to him.
He nodded in understanding as he continued his task, assailing the unfortunate post with heavy blows, marring and cracking its surface with each strike, his hatred for the defilers in green giving him further strength and allowing him to ignore his own growing exhaustion.
"Now, it's time for a little test." His eternally angry and foul mouthed teacher soon declared. And despite himself, he could not help but sigh a bit.
"More riddles, I'm sure." He thought with a frown, displeased.
The last time he made him answer a riddle, he threatened to drop an enormous and sharp icicle on top of his head if he failed to answer correctly. And even when he successfully passed his test, he still sent the icicle crashing down upon him anyways, though he purposely missed him by just a couple of feet. And so, what sort of deadly punishment awaited him this time, he wondered.
"Answer this, you dirty little runt. What creature walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs in the evening?"
He would much prefer to continue working the pell or jogging through the forest whilst carrying a sack full of stones than go through another one of his Master's tests. But there was little he could do about it, so he would simply have to do his best to answer correctly. He halted amid his forty-ninth swing in an effort to think more clearly as he searched for the answer.
"Did I told you to stop!? Keep striking that pell you lazy worm!" Was his immediate reprimand, prompting him to continue striking the pell, but with a tad more force. His frustrations towards him every growing.
Nevertheless, he still tried to search an answer. And after giving it a bit of thought, he decided to try his luck and hoped he would get it right.
"Is it a dog, Master?" He offered. Yet he was only met with silence. He soon realized he had failed the test.
His mind was immediately on alert, his instincts screaming at him that danger was near. And it was most fortunate of him that he heeded them. Because a knife was already flying through the air and would have impaled his skull through his left eye, had he not raise his wooden practice sword just in the nick of time.
His heart was now racing, fear gripping him under its cold grasp, the shock briefly robbing him of the ability to even breathe, as he stared at the tip of the knife that he barely managed to block. And even then, the blade had pierced right through the flat of the wooden sword and stopped about half an inch before the hilt. Had it gone all the way through though, he most likely would have lost an eye.
"The only dog I see here is you! And a stupid one at that!" A familiar harsh voice shouted at him, echoing through the forest, its displeasure unmistakable.
He tried to look around in search of him, practice sword held at the ready. But try as he might, his Master had mysteriously vanished, when just moments ago he was just behind him. Yet the knife had been launched at him from the front earlier, so how did he managed to go from one area of their training ground to another, in the middle of broad daylight without his notice? There weren't even any tracks on the snow to give away the direction he went, he didn't even hear him make a single sound. It was as if he had been a ghost.
His train of thought was soon cut off when he saw something glinting, and his instincts soon screamed at him again. He quickly dove into the snow-covered ground, and he felt the very air shake as something impossibly fast flew over him, missing him by just a hair's breathed. He knew not what that was exactly, but something told him that he would be missing his head by now had he been just the tiniest bit slower.
"And you shall be a dead dog very soon! Such a weak and idiotic sack of meat should have been left behind to be turned into Goblin chow!"
His Master's outraged voice rang loud and clear through the small clearing once again, and despite his attempts, he could not figure out where it was coming from, for it would seem like his voice was coming from all directions. As if they were in a cave and his voice was echoing all around him. Such a thing was even possible?
He had already gotten back to his feet, practice sword held at the ready with both hands. His heart pounded in his chest as his breaths quickened, anticipating the next deathly blow to come. And it was good that he did, for several more blades came flying through the air and from different directions, all aimed at him. Never before had he ran so fast in his life, not even when those Goblins were chasing him, willing his legs to take him further and quicker so to avoid an untimely death. And even then, he still took glancing hits, the blades leaving thin bleeding cuts on his arms, legs and torso.
One of the blades even came dangerously close to impaling him on the side of his face, had he not moved his head just in time, gaining a small, clean cut to the side of his chin instead. That tiny bastard truly was trying to kill him this time!
But just as suddenly as the barrage of deadly blades came when the seemingly relentless attacks stopped. Giving him some much needed reprieve. And the voice of his Master rang out from the forest once more.
"Fortunately for you boy, I'm in a rather generous mood today."
And that part he could scarcely believe, for if this was him being generous, then he dreaded to think what he would do if he was truly pissed off. All the wounds he had just suffered continued to sting, a firm reminder of his Master's so-called generosity.
"So I shall give you another chance to answer my riddle correctly. So start thinking! Lest my knife end up cutting your little balls off, should you fail again. Unworthy mongrels shouldn't be allowed to breed after all, HA HA HA HA!" His Master finished with a rather sadistic and almost maniacal laugh.
"Tsk." A rather unpleasant sneer made it to his face while at the same time he could barely contain the shaking of his hands.
His Master's repeated insults, his threats and that mad cackling of his served to rile him up even further, as well as frighten him. But he knew that was exactly what he wanted to happen, make him all the more angry, frustrated and scared so he would lose focus. So that he would fail again. His petty tricks would not work this time though, not again. He refused to give up. He will not lose!
Steeling his resolve and calming his mind, he once more tried to find the answer to his Master's riddle.
So a creature that walks with four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs in the evening. It couldn't be a dog, that was already made painfully clear. Which also meant it wasn't a sheep or a cow or anything else that normally walked on all fours. Birds and fishes were out of the question, for they neither walked nor crawled, at least, not to the best of his knowledge. So what was it?
Sometimes he wished he paid more attention to his sister's lessons in the past. Perhaps this riddle would be a lot easier for him if he had taken her teachings closer to heart. And then a peculiar thought soon came to him.
Babies walked on all fours.
They crawled on their hands and knees as it is too difficult for them to stand on their own. He knew that much from during the times his sister had to watch over their neighbor's child for a while. And when babies finally grow up, they stop crawling and learn to walk on both feet, like him. With that said, he now knew of the creature that walks on four legs yet also walks on two. But how exactly does it start walking on three legs? A person couldn't possibly be walking using one of its arms, that was simply too stupid and weird. So how do they do it? What did they use?
"Have you finally given up, you little red-eyed runt?! I haven't gotten an answer from you still. Maybe we should just end this foolishness and go straight to neutering you!" His Master shouted once more.
He was beginning to grow tired of that insufferable and vicious old fool, what with his never ending jabs and insults. He had half a mind to just go and find him, steal his thrice damned walking stick and beat him on the head with it. Perhaps then the decrepit old fossil would learn to show some respect, and some much needed humility.
"Wait. . . Could it be. . ?" His eyes widened in surprise as a new realization came to mind.
His Master was indeed already old. Very old. Even though his wizened form secretly possessed the strength and ability to allow him to best most Humans decades younger than him, it still did not change the fact that his age was slowly catching up to him. And for that, he normally moved around with the aid of a simple walking stick. Similar to any old man who was nearing their final years.
"I've found the answer to your riddle, Master." He said with a small yet confident smile upon his face. "The creature that walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs in the evening, is Man."
His Master said nothing for a long while as he simply stood there waiting for his reply. His eyes kept scanning the woods all around him, still on guard. And just when he was thinking that perhaps he made another mistake again, and would surely get another knife aimed at his privates.
"Correct."
His Master finally said, dispelling his worries yet also surprising him at the same time. He quickly turned around and there he saw him. The small bundle of hatred and malice that had saved him from a most painful and horrifying death, and who so easily destroyed the monsters responsible for murdering his sister. The old Rhea stood just a few feet from him, wizened form slightly hunched as he leaned upon the walking stick held within his right hand. And his yellow eyes bore straight into his own crimson orbs, still full of vigor and life despite his advanced age.
"I suppose you are not completely stupid after all. There is hope for you yet." His Master said to him, voice still full of contempt, but tinged with a bit of approval. He soon waved him over as he turned around and walked back towards the direction of the cave that served as their humble abode. And he simply followed suit, walking alongside him. And silently grateful that he had finally passed the test and earned a new longer lease on his life.
"Tell me, boy." He who was known as The Burglar spoke once more, drawing his attention. "What is the one thing that all the civilized peoples of this world share, that ultimately separates them from the primitive beasts that prowl this earth?"
He frowned at that, not expecting another test so soon. And was it another riddle perhaps? Regardless, he would try to answer it as best he could. He knew not about the ways of Dwarfs or Elves or even Lizardmen, not yet at least, but he did know enough about Rheas already as well as the ways of Men.
"Um… Is it the way we fight?" He tried
"Wrong. Try again." And was casually denied.
He bit his lip as he tried to find a better answer. "Then, perhaps it's the way we think."
"Close, but not quite. Give me a better answer." The old Burglar pressed once more.
He nodded at that, a bit more confident this time. "Then it is our sense of reason."
"Correct. Our ability to reason." The elderly creature grunted in stern approval, before continuing his lesson. "Our ingenuity or creativity. Our disciplines. Even our very ability to learn. Where do you think all of this resides?"
"Um. . . the head?" He tentatively offered.
"Again, you can give me a better answer than that." And once more his Master disagreed, and rather sarcastically at that.
"The mind then."
"Yes, the mind!" The old Burglar grinned at this, which consequently made his sharp and wrinkled face look even more vicious and frightening. Not that he would openly admit it, for fear of getting hit on the head again.
"Your mind shall always be your greatest weapon in any battle." He once again continued his lesson, and he listed intently. "Swords and sorceries, and even one's own limbs, are but mere tools. It is the mind that allows you to wield them. It is what allows you to exploit your opponents' weaknesses and counter their strengths. It is what allows you to find hidden dangers and avoid them. To lead your allies to glorious victory, and cast your enemies into ignominious defeat. It is the one thing that shall enable you to destroy armies, conquer nations and bring even literal Giants to their knees."
And then he added one more thing at the end. "And it even allowed a humble Rhea to outwit and ultimately slay a mighty Dragon."
That last bit drew his attention in particular, quite impressed by what he just heard. Was he perhaps referring to himself, or someone else? And his talk of conquering nations and destroying armies was rather peculiar. Had he also been involved in past wars and great battles? All things he would need to ask him about in the future. Or maybe not.
Giants and Dragons meant nothing to him, and he certainly had no desire to fight in someone else' war and conquer for them. The Goblins were his only real enemy. They alone deserved to be utterly destroyed.
"Thus, you must never forget!" His Master suddenly halted and turned towards him. And then pointed his walking stick at him. "To always fight with your head, along with your heart."
He then lowered his walking stick and leaned onto it as he continued to fix him with his ever stern and scrutinizing gaze. "Do you understand?"
He nodded solemnly, having taken his every word close to heart. "Yes Master."
"You better. Otherwise, you will be chopped up and turned into a Goblin's meal on your very first quest, should you ever do anything foolish." The old Burglar finally turned away from him and continued on.
"That will never happen." He declared, an unpleasant sneer upon his lips. "As I told you before, I will kill them all."
"Ha! We shall see about that. Tomorrow, the next phase of your training will begin. We shall see how long you will last, before you finally surrender."
"I wont."
The old Rhea was old and wise, and as loathe he may be to accept it, he was always right. But his Master continues to underestimate him, and this was his mistake.
)-(
21st of Erntezeit, 2500 IC. Present Day. In the Forests of Essental.
His Master had been the most demanding tutor and harshest taskmaster he had ever known. Many times he had driven him to tears and even near insanity during his years of training. And yet, he never once surrendered, and for that, he had been broken down and reforged into the warrior he was today. Did he ever resent him, or even hated him, for all the pain and misery he wrought? Yes, he did. And even today, some of that resentment still lingered. But he was also eternally grateful. If it wasn't for him, he would never have had the strength to exact his vengeance. And he would never have had the ability to protect those he loved.
And so, was he perhaps making the same mistake as his master once did? Was it unfair of him to deny others the same opportunity to achieve their goals, even if he disagreed with it? Especially when they had already proven themselves particularly tenacious.
"Give us that damned ring you bastard! RAAGH!" With a mighty roar that would have put most warriors to shame, Hans charged at him once more, a club poised to strike.
He simply let out a rather exasperated sigh as he stood his ground, his spear held casually in one hand. When the boy was but a few feet away, he jumped across the remaining short distance and brought the heavy club down upon him, aiming directly at his head. A simple step to the side at the very last moment was enough to spare him from any real injury. And by grabbing Hans firmly by the throat and kicking his legs from under him, then slamming him into the ground shortly after, his foolish charge was effectively countered.
The force of this move was enough to render the poor boy unconscious, at least for a little while. The Gods know he would soon rise again and challenge him, though he still hoped he wouldn't. But this gave him enough time to deal with his twin, who had used the distraction his brother caused to sneak up behind him and tried to stab him in the back with a shiv. A simple backwards thrust with his spear was enough to strike down that notion however.
Felix immediately lost hold of his weapon as he doubled over, clutching at his abused gut and coughing rather violently. He then swung his spear and swept the boy's legs from under him, sending him falling to the ground with rather loud thud. And as one more firm reminder of his failed attempt, he gave him a simple kick to the side, making him groan even more in pain.
He quickly turned his attention back to Hans, and to his small surprise the boy was already back on his feet. He had expected him to be down for at least a bit longer. And by the angry sneer on his bloodied lips and the sheer determination within his blue eyes, his resolve remained unbroken.
Once more the young Steiner charged at him, fighting through all the pain and exhaustion he surely felt, and swung his club at him once more. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't be more obvious and slow as he effortlessly avoided the strike. Proving himself to be stubborn as ever, Hans continued his assault. Launching blow after furious blow with his club, without a single clean hit.
"ARGH! Stop moving around and fight me you coward! " The boy roared out in utter frustration as he tried and failed to land a successful hit, not even so much as a glancing blow.
He couldn't help but smirk, amused by his growing outrage and his laughable attempts to goad him. But if the young Hans truly wished for him to fight back, then who was he to deny his fervent wish?
And so when Hans raised his club with both hands in preparation for another heavy blow, he lashed out with his spear and struck his hands with the shaft. The sudden impact caused Hans to drop his weapon and he started cursing and shouting in pain as he nursed his pained hands. Which left him open to another strike to the core, causing him to double over, and then another blow to the side of his head, which finally knocked him down for the eight time that day.
"Stay down." He said to the groaning and barely conscious boy. A bit of blood was slowly leaking out of the wound on his temple, right where he struck him.
"You stay down!" Shouted the other one, proving every bit as stubborn as his brother.
Felix, seeking to avenge his fallen brother as well as his own badly wounded pride, ran straight towards him once again, shiv in hand. He merely stood his ground and prepared to meet his feeble charge, ready to send him crashing down into the unforgiving earth once more. But to his slight surprise, the boy did something peculiar. Felix quickly grabbed a fistful of dirt and grass while running towards him.
"Smart." He thought with a slight smirk.
If the boy hadn't made an otherwise clever move look so obvious, it probably might have worked. Unfortunately for him, he was fighting someone who happened to be a master of dirty tricks, so such pitiful performance was destined for failure. Still, what he did was good practice and he approved. And for that, he would humor him.
When Felix was just an arm's length away, the boy threw the fistful of dirt and grass at his face, and he immediately closed his eyes.
"Ha!" He cried out in triumph. Believing him to be momentarily blinded by his little trick, the boy quickly thrust forward with his shiv, seeking to stab him in the gut.
So it must have been a huge disappointment to him when he simply twisted his body to the side, allowing the blade to merely slide harmlessly over his thick woolen shirt, then taking a quick step backwards to gain more distance.
"Verdammt!" He heard the boy curse.
With his eyes still closed, he heard an audible step coupled with a sudden expelling of breath. So he quickly took another two steps backs. The distinct feeling of wind brushing across his belly along with a disappointed grunt from Felix told him all he needed to know. So he dropped his spear, lunged forward and grabbed the boy by the shoulder and right wrist. Shortly before planting a solid knee straight to his chest.
He heard Felix gasped as he undoubtedly caused an explosion of pain within his chest and pushed all the air out of his lungs, robbing him of strength, causing him to drop his weapon just as he intended. He then released the boy and took a simple step back before finally opening his eyes once again.
He was treated to the sorry sight of the younger Steiner twin now on his knees, coughing rather violently and wheezing while clutching at his chest. His face locked in a painful grimace and tears leaking out of his eyes. He shifted his stoic gaze towards Hans, who was still moaning in pain as he lie on his back, conscious but barely.
He was unmoved by the sight. Many would call him cold and heartless for hurting a couple of young boys, but this is exactly what they wished for. Pain and misery would be the fate that awaited them should they ever take up the sword and seek out their fortunes in battle. With death being the greatest consequence should they fail. The sooner they learned this simple truth, the better.
With both of his opponents down and clearly unable to resist much further, he decided to give them a few more moments of respite, as well as allow them to once again reconsider the futility of their endeavor. He went over to a nearby tree and simply leaned against it as he watched the twins struggle to get back up. Covered in various bruises and many cuts all over their bodies, and with their clothes drenched in sweat and stained with dirt, the Steiner twins were the perfect picture of misery and shame.
He had already spent nearly an hour beating some sense into these two, literally. Trying to get them to surrender, to finally abandon their foolish desires of glory and honor. And yet, time and again they would rise up and fight once more. Stubborn to the last. Of course, he purposely held himself back during this entire exchange. Even though he might have loosened a few teeth and painted their bodies several shades of purple, there were no lasting injuries. Their pride was the only thing that truly suffered here.
He will admit, though they were obviously lacking in training or experience, they were resourceful and knew how to work together. Such as attacking him from two directions at the same time, one serving as a distraction while the other struck from behind. And when he had disarmed them earlier and broken their spears, they immediately started using other weapons to fight him, such as clubs and knives. And as the battle dragged on and they grew more desperate, they resorted to more vicious and potentially lethal attacks.
And he commended them for it. Others might decry their use of deadly weapons and their attempts to purposely maim and kill, but not him. In a real battle, one should always use any and all available means to bring down an opponent.
Still, it was not enough. Not enough to make him accept them. They had potential, but his standards had always been rather high. And he refused to lower them by offering special treatment. They will either pass, or fail. And right now, they were leaning precariously towards failure.
But what he saw next surprised him once more. Hans and Felix, despite having been repeatedly beaten, knocked down and driven to almost utter exhaustion, were slowly rising up once more.
"Just how stubborn are these two boys." He thought with some amazement as he watched the Steiner twins get back on uneasy legs, bloodied and bruised faces both a mask of utter determination.
He stared calmly at them as they slowly advanced, his crimson eyes studying them long and hard, trying to discern what was it that drove them to keep pressing on. He knew of many grown men that wouldn't have lasted five minutes of the kind of beating he put them through. And yet here were these two boys, barely older than his own son, back on their feet once again and getting ready for another bout. He decided to give voice to his, admittedly, growing concern.
"What are you doing?"
"Ugh… W-what does it… look like we're gonna do?" Hans countered back, grinning at him with bloodied lips and tired eyes.
"We're gonna take that- *cough* *cough* Gods damned ring from you of course." Felix added, coughing as he did so and still holding his chest with one hand.
"No, you can't." He shot back with a shake of his head.
"Yes we will!" Both of the twins shouted back, defiant as ever.
"Not from what I see."
He said while looking at their current state. He applauded their spirit, but their bodies simply can't take any further beatings. If he pushed them too far, he might end up breaking something he shouldn't. Thus, forcing him to spend a healing potion on them. Quite wasteful really.
Which is why he would reason with them again instead. Perhaps words would accomplish what force could not and they would finally admit defeat. Or perhaps, this would finally answer his own earlier question, of whether or not he had made a mistake. Either way, the twins had unwittingly backed him into a corner.
"It would be far easier and less painful for you to give up. There is nothing you can do to defeat me. So I suggest you cease this foolishness and go home."
"Save your breath you bastard. Nothing you say or do is going to make us give up!"
"We will prove to you that we are worthy of being you're apprentices! No matter what it takes!
"Then enlighten me." He shot back, getting rather frustrated by their bullheadedness. "Why are a couple of village boys so desperate to receive training, and from me specifically? Why must I waste my time training you, when it would be better spent slaying Goblins."
"Because we have no other choice!" Hans shouted at him with such passion, eyes brimming with tears, full of frustration and determination. "You think we haven't already tried asking others to train us? We have and we learned, but what Sergeant Wulfrik and the others have thought us will never be enough to make us true heroes!"
"And only true heroes can save us from the monsters that always come knocking at our doors! Heroes like you Sir Slayer!" Felix soon interjected, sharing the exact feelings as his brother. "So we need you to train us, to help us become as strong as you!"
"Because if we don't. . . If you won't help us, then we will lose everything." And the older Steiner twin soon finished, voice full of desperation and finality. A tear threatening to escape from his blue eyes. "And we know that you won't always be there to save us."
Stoic as ever, he showed nothing of what he truly felt. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn't moved by their impassioned pleas. For how long ago has it been when he was in much the same position, weak and helpless, and seeking help from someone far superior than him, so that he too would gain strength.
"Well, that answers my question." he thought with some amusement.
Yes, he had made a mistake, just as his former Master once did. His mistake was underestimating them. For thinking them to be little more than glory-seeking fools, when in fact they were actually two young men seeking to protect those most dear to them. Not much different from him actually. Better even, since they were not utterly consumed by the need for vengeance.
"I see." He finally spoke after a while, giving them a faint smile. "Then with such a reason for fighting, you will both go far."
And he meant every word, for the man known as the Goblin Slayer very rarely, if ever, gave out genuine praise. And that simple praise was enough raise the Steiner boys' spirits, bringing a rather bright smile to their faces. It was surely welcome news to them and a boon to their flagging morale, considering he had spent the past hour picking them apart piece by painful piece and utterly humiliating them. So he imagine the next bit of news would knock the wind out of their sails.
"Unfortunately however," he soon continued, his smile turning into a knowing smirk. "you have also failed my test."
"WHAT?!" Hans and Felix both screamed in outrage and disbelief.
"Like Hells we have! We can still keep fighting so we haven't lost yet!"
"And we will get that damned ring from you so don't try and back out from us now!"
Both boys got into ready stances, utterly determined to continue their pointless pursuit despite how tired and beaten they were. And though admirable, it was time to end this whole exchange. He still had a private meeting with a certain maid after all and he would rather not be late.
"Remember the rules of my test. You had to steal my ring from me and you only had one hour to do so. And an hour had already passed, and yet my ring still remains with me." He then held his left hand out, showing them his ring which was still fitted snugly upon his finger. A small flash of light came from its lustrous jewel, almost as if taunting the two boys and proving his words right.
"But, but. . . We-! . . You-!" The young Hans could only sputter things out, too shocked and outraged to finish what he wanted to say. That, and he took too many hits to the head earlier.
"But that's not. . . fair!" His brother Felix however wasn't having too much trouble giving voice to his thoughts, though he was still a bit out of breath. "You cheated!"
"Oh?" He raised a brow at them, unable to truly hide his amusement.
"Yeah! You made a test for us that we had no hope of ever passing!" Felix exclaimed.
"It wasn't that difficult." He quipped.
"That's right! How are we suppose to steal a damned ring from someone who can beat an Orc Warboss and it's blasted horde!?" Hans shouted out once more, in complete agreement with his brother, genuinely outraged.
"But only because I had assistance." He pointed out.
"And not only that, but that damned ring obviously has some strange magic in it and is making you even more powerful than you already are!" Hans continued, ignoring his comment as he leveled an accusing finger at him.
"Which is probably one reason you managed to do so well against so many Greenskins!" Felix added, drawing a seemingly damning conclusion as to the source of his combat prowess.
"Not exactly." He muttered, a small chuckle rumbling from his throat.
It is true that his Breath Ring's mystical enchantments aided him in battle whenever he chose to wear it. But only by allowing him to, as the name suggests, breathe safely and easily, no matter the environment he was in. Perfectly useful in places where there was no air to breathe, like say, in the bottom of a lake, or at the top of a very high mountain where the air was much too thin. And in addition, wearing the ring also enhances his stamina and endurance for it prevents him from ever running out of breath, no matter how hard he fought or how long he ran, thus making it less likely for him to get tired. Perfect for fighting in pitched battles or for running down escaping foes.
Not that these two boys needed to know any of these things. Let them continue to believe whatever they wish. Overestimating one's opponents can be just as dangerous as underestimating them. And besides, as useful as the Breath Ring was, its benefits were mostly supplemental and tactical in nature, and does not afford him any drastic improvements in ability. And lastly and more importantly, one does not need a magic ring to slay a Goblin, no matter the kind. And he had already long since trained his body to be able to fight ceaselessly for hours without the aid of any sort of magic.
"And so there was really no hope of us ever succeeding in the first place." Hans finally concluded, looking quite dejected.
"No matter how hard we fought, we just couldn't defeat you." Felix added, looking rather demoralized.
"The answer to that is quite simple. You'll just have to do better next time." He said to them with a smile, trying to lift up their flagging resolve.
"It won't matter. You'll just wipe the ground with our faces again ." Hans said with some finality, all the fight he once had within him now seemingly gone. And his brother Felix simply nodded in agreement.
"True. That might happen again." He nodded at that, but his smile never leaving, crimson eyes looking at them knowingly. "Unless of course, you were to take your training under me seriously."
That got an immediate reaction from the two boys as they stared at him with eyes wide.
"What do you mean?"
"What training?"
"It means what it means." He casually said, purposely being cryptic much to their annoyance. He then gestured for them to follow him as he turned around and made his way back to his horse. "Come. We must return to the village before it gets dark. And I'm sure your mother would be displeased if you aren't home by nightfall. If she isn't already."
That remark got the two young Steiners to quickly drop their weapons and follow him, an uncomfortable weight forming at the pit of their stomach, not looking forward to the tongue lashing they would undoubtedly get once they were back home. But the fear of their mother's wrath was mostly shadowed by their renewed hope and excitement upon hearing the Slayer's words.
"Hey, tell us what you meant exactly!" Hans asked him again
"Did you just say that you are going to train us?" Felix also pressed him.
He sighed at that, still a bit annoyed to their repeated questions and their seemingly overabundance of energy. But it was not exactly a bad thing, really. And he figured he would get used to them and their childish antics soon enough.
"Yes, I shall train you both. For as long as I am able." He finally said to them, giving them the answer they needed.
"Empire's Blessings, YES!" the two twins practically screamed at the top of their lungs, enough to make him wince in slight discomfort.
And so he spent the rest of that afternoon making his way back to the village, quietly listening to the two young boys as they continued to talk rather animatedly to him and each other about all the fun and glorious things they would achieve in battles to come. Saving beautiful damsels in distress, exploring new and hidden places, winning great fame and fortune, and as one of them had so eloquently put it, 'kick lots of Goblin arse'.
Despite himself, he could not help but smile at that remark and agree wholeheartedly. Yes, by the time he finally left this village, the Steiner twins will be more than capable of kicking a lot of Goblin arse, and crushing more than their fair share of Goblin heads as well. He'll just have to make sure they always fought with their heads along with their hearts.
A hard lesson his old master once taught him. And this was one way of applying that lesson. By teaching others how to better fight against and kill the monsters he so hated, thus sharing the enormous workload he would soon be shouldering. Perhaps one day, he could get many more people to help him in his grand quest?
Certainly a viable strategy worth taking.
Author's Notes: Would like to apologize for the long absence. A lot of stuff took most of my spare time and most days I was just robbed of the energy to write. Covid lockdowns and loss of a job certainly didn't help matters. But despite all of that, I was still able to drum up enough inspiration and creativity to finish this latest chapter. It's a bit shorter than what I wanted to release, but that's mostly because I wanted this chapter to be only about GS and his training of the Steiner boys. Putting all the scenes with GS and Giselle in there would have pushed this chapter well past 20k words and I think that might be too long a read for you all. Unless of course you like bigger chapters instead, then please let me know :-D
As always, would like to thank all those who still continue to read my work and hope you will continue to show your support. And please, continue to write and send your reviews. I read all of them and take any and all suggestions and advise in close consideration.
Until next time. John out!