The pair made their way past the Academy and walked a few minutes more until they approached a large round open-air area. A four-meter wall of white stone wrapped around the space, encircling it and setting it off from the rest of the town.

They stopped in front of the entrance. Ash peered through the black iron gates and saw broken stone walls and practice targets placed against stacks of hay. The place looked empty. 

“This is it. Are you ready?” Myra asked. 

Ash gulped and nodded. 

The gate hinges squeaked. When they passed them, Ash felt a strange sensation, as if she was entering a room filled with gelatin. She gasped for air instinctively but realized she could breathe normally. She looked at Myra who seemed unperturbed, save for a slight twitch of her brow. 

“Did you feel that?” 

The princess acquiesced and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword. They advanced cautiously, their boots crunching on the pebbly ground. 

Ash looked around and saw swords, spears, axes, and bows lined up on a rack by the eastern wall. Under the northern wall stood a watchtower overlooking remnants of houses. At the center was a large circular area covered in sand with stone benches on the side, which reminded her of where gladiators used to fight during Antiquity. The whole space was about a hundred-and-twenty meters wide. 

She jumped when she heard a deafening clang that rang in her right ear. She whipped her head to face the source of the metallic sound when her jaw dropped. 

Myra had drawn her sword and just blocked a heavy strike coming from behind them. Without flinching, she threw a back kick at the attacker who jumped away without a sound. 

“Not bad, Your Highness,” the hooded figure said with a firm voice.

Ash had raised both her fists in defense. Where the heck did she come from? 

Myra sheathed her sword. “You know you can forgo the formalities when we exchange blows, Master.” 

The silhouette stowed her weapon. She turned to Ash who shrank and lowered her fists. She slowly walked to her while taking off the hood of her brown cloak. She had long red braided hair that shone as bright as flames. Her finely carved face showed no particular emotion. She exuded a powerful and calm aura that commanded respect. 

So, this is the famous general, Ash thought.

Skarlag clasped her hands behind her back. Her turquoise eyes quietly studied the brown-haired woman standing in front of her. 

“Come,” she said after a long minute. 

She led her to the sandy area at the center of the ground. She grabbed a wooden sword for herself and threw Ash a round shield that was about an arm’s wide. 

“Fend off my attacks for as long as you can.” 

“O-Okay.” 

Ash took off her cloak and stretched her arms and legs. She could feel cold sweat rolling down her back. She strapped the wooden shield to her right arm. Skarlag’s brow twitched. Meanwhile, Myra had taken a seat on one of the benches surrounding the arena.

“Ready?” 

Ash nodded while trying to steady her breathing. 

In a split second, Skarlag had covered the distance between them, shoulder forward. Ash barely had the time to raise her shield. With one single bump of a shoulder, she got sent flying backward three meters away. Myra squinted. 

Ash landed on her back with a loud thud, her breath cut short, spitting out sand. 

She looked ahead and her eyes widened. She rolled aside just in time to avoid the second attack. Skarlag’s wooden sword stabbed the ground in the spot where Ash’s face was just a second before. 

Holy crap, she’s freaking serious!

Ash struggled to her feet and limped back, heart pounding, trying to catch her breath. Skarlag was already one step away, holding her sword with both hands for an overhead strike. 

Ash raised her shield, squeezed her eyes shut, and braced for the impact. But it never came. 

Instead, she felt Skarlag’s boot connecting with her abdomen, sending her rolling outside the arena. Pebbles scattered all around as she landed in a loud crunch. 

“Never leave the enemy out of your sight,” the red-haired woman said flatly. She turned to the princess and they nodded at each other. 

Myra stood up and strode over to Ash who was trying to get back on her feet. Her arms and legs were shaking. She was covered in dirt, coughing and gasping for air at the same time. She crumpled back to the ground. 

Then, she felt iridescent energy wrapping around her whole body. Slowly, her pain started to subside. 

She opened her eyes and saw Myra kneeling beside her, eyes closed, breathing deeply. Her hands were placed over her stomach and produced a light green glow. She recognized the healing spell that Nessia used on her at the cave, except that this one felt less potent but gentler. 

She felt an itch in her eyes and rubbed it off. That damn sand.  

A few minutes later, Ash rose up and sat on a nearby stone bench, feeling much better. She thanked Myra warmly and turned to the woman who had been patiently waiting at the same spot where she had last hit her. She was resting her hands on the pommel of the practice sword, its point in the ground.

“My name’s Skarlag Tigersblood. I’ve been appointed as your instructor. Over the next month, I’ll teach you how to fight in real-life combat,” she said with a penetrating voice. 

Ash’s shoulders slumped. One whole month of this? 

Skarlag gestured at the area around them. “This is the training ground. For the next thirty days, this place will be where you will train, eat, and sleep.”

Ash didn't notice before but by the western wall stood three tents, a campfire, and a large wooden tub. There was also a well further up north, by the watchtower. 

The general continued, “However, time passes by differently here.”

Ash cocked her head. She glanced at Myra who was standing next to her, arms crossed, waiting for the master to continue.  

“Given your current level, one month won't suffice. Thankfully, we are aided by the nymphs of House Teshbi. As of now, and for the duration of your training, this entire area is under a powerful time-stretching spell.”

She looked up at the watchtower. Ash followed her gaze and finally noticed the two nymphs who were there. The one with the grape purple hair was standing, arms stretched, chanting silently with her eyes closed, while the one with the indigo hair was resting on a comfortable chair behind her. 

“Thanks to them, instead of one month, your training will actually last close to a year.”

“One year?!” Ash felt like the ground was swallowing her whole.

Myra covered her strawberry lips with both hands. “By all the gods. This is… extraordinary! You’ll be under Master’s tutelage for one uninterrupted year! I’m overjoyed for you, and—frankly—quite envious.”

Ash felt dizzy. Kill me now. 

Skarlag continued, “I asked Myra to accompany you so you can see the level that’s required if we want to have a fighting chance against Tardar.” 

The princess had already taken off her cloak, revealing an Amazonian figure. She joined her master inside the arena and faced her. Both of them bowed at each other. Ash sat straighter on the bench. 

Skarlag nodded imperceptibly. 

In a heartbeat, Myra had unsheathed her sword and was aiming at her master’s throat. Skarlag ducked and landed on one of her arms. She used it as a lever to throw a rotating low kick at her opponent. 

Myra flexed her muscles and performed a backflip. Before she could land though, Skarlag aimed at her stomach with a middle side kick.

So this is how she sent me flying, Ash thought, feeling fortunate not to be receiving that one. 

Ash’s jaw dropped as she saw the princess pivot her body mid-air and block the strike with her forearms. A cloud of dust formed as she skidded backward, squatting, her forearms still crossed before her chest. 

Skarlag took advantage of the limited visibility to sneak behind Myra and strike her in the nape. They heard the sound of wood splitting. 

When the dust settled, Ash saw that Myra had crushed her master’s training sword with a swing of her elbow. 

Simultaneously, she switched the grip on her sword and was now holding it like a long knife. She stabbed backward, aiming at Skarlag’s abdomen. 

The master jumped back, evading the strike easily. 

The blonde-haired warrior turned to face her master. “Would you like to grab another weapon?” 

Skarlag shook her head. 

“As you wish.”

Holding her sword with both hands, she attacked relentlessly, turning into a storm of strikes, kicks, and punches. Skarlag dodged each of her attacks with confounding ease.

Ash blinked and rubbed her eyes. I can barely follow their moves. 

Suddenly, Myra felt a tight grip on her right wrist. Her feet elevated from the ground and her whole body flipped forward. She landed on her back in a cloud of sand. 

“Still clinging onto your sword?” the red-haired woman asked with a tinge of surprise in her voice. 

With one twist, she broke the princess’s wrist in a chilling crack. Myra muffled a cry and dropped her sword, grunting. Ash gasped loudly at the cruel scene, feeling her hackles rise on her nape. 

“I yield,” Myra said through gritted teeth. 

Skarlag helped her former student up and patted her on the back. As the royal started healing her broken wrist in the background, the master turned to Ash whose face had turned blue. 

“I hope you enjoyed the demonstration. Starting tomorrow, your training begins.”