The moment Dragan grabbed his staff, Branka lunged forward with a speed that stirred up dust from the ground. It was an aggressive move for a master to launch at their student as soon as they grasped their weapon, and a knot of unease formed in the pit of my stomach.

Before I could even blink once, Branka swung her staff in a downward motion toward Dragan. To my surprise, he adeptly blocked the strike, and they engaged in a rapid exchange of blows. Dragan took a defensive stance, skillfully parrying Branka's attacks from various angles.

After a series of strikes, Dragan leaped backward, creating distance between them. Time seemed to slow as they locked eyes, both spinning their staffs effortlessly. Dragan took measured steps, gradually moving closer to the porch of the house. Although he displayed skillful defensive maneuvers, it was clear that he struggled to find an opening for a counterattack. 

Or so I assumed—I realized that my understanding of their sparring went beyond my limited knowledge. There was much I could be mistaken about.

"Have you cooled down now, kid?" Branka asked, relaxing her fighting stance and casually resting the staff on her shoulder, leaving herself vulnerable. Despite her open posture, she appeared far from restless.

Dragan wiped the sweat from his brow, still gripping the staff tightly. He remained silent, as if anticipating Branka's next words.

"Shall we move on to real sparring?"

As if to mimic his master’s first attack- or perhaps seeking payback for her initial attack - Dragan lunged forward, taking advantage of Branka’s unguarded stance. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Branka remarked with a bold smile on her calm face. 

The older woman skillfully blocked Dragan's attack, initiating another intense exchange of blows between the two staff wielders. I finally realized that I had pegged Dragan wrong. While he may have had some initial difficulties, it was now evident that he could hold his own against his master. Branka still maintained the upper hand with her refined technique, precise moves, and extensive experience. However, Dragan's skills were far from ordinary. His fluid movements and strategic attacks showcased the progress he had made through his training.

If Dragan's current skill level was as impressive as I witnessed, it made no sense to me why he died in the book. He was clearly capable of self defense in case of an attack; and I’d argue that even two people would have issues fighting him. In the larger context of the story, the two attackers were relatively weak compared to other foes Ivan would fight later. 

This stark difference left me with an ominous feeling. Did the executive meddling my sister had to endure while writing the book result in making everyone’s lives worse for no reason?

My negative thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a pained groan from Dragan, drawing my attention back to the present. He was kneeling on the ground, using his staff as support.

"That's enough for now," Branka declared, signaling the end of their sparring match, with Dragan clearly on the losing side. She held out a hand to Dragan, a friendly gesture to help him stand up, symbolizing that the heated atmosphere of before was no more. 

“Why so many careless mistakes, Dragan? You’re usually more composed.” 

Dragan’s head drooped, mirroring his previous demeanor when his friends had interrogated him. He avoided making eye contact with his master even when he finally responded.

“My brother is lying to me about something, and it’s been bothering me the whole day.”

Upon hearing those words, Branka’s stern gaze softened, and she put a comforting hand on his shoulder, urging him to meet her eyes.

"Your brother won't do something foolish or anything that would harm you," Branka reassured him. Dragan looked up, his expression complex, as if he was torn between wanting to believe her words and grappling with his own uncertainties. I could empathize with his internal struggle.

"Give it a few days, Dragan. Perhaps he will reveal the truth on his own. You know how he is," Branka chuckled lightly, a flicker of reminiscence crossing her face. “That brat is far too secretive for his own good.”

"Even if Ivan never comes to see me, I am certain he’s not involved in anything malicious. It's simply not his style," Branka continued, her tone filled with conviction.

Dragan's eyes brightened, and it was evident to both Branka and me that her words had finally resonated with him. He nodded earnestly and smiled. "You're right, master."

After this exchange, they continued on with what I assumed was the actual training for a whole hour. By the time they were finished, Dragan looked pretty exhausted, until Branka asked him an interesting question that not only caught his attention but mine, too.

"Dragan, you'll be graduating soon, won't you? What are your plans for after graduation?"

Was that true? I turned my attention to Dragan, eager to hear his response. He seemed to ponder the question deeply, his expression reflecting the weight of his considerations. My heart sank as I realized the implications. In the novel, it was highly likely that Dragan never had the chance to experience his own graduation…!

“It’s difficult,” Dragan explained and hesitated for a moment to continue, "Many guilds have been reaching out to me, but I know it's not because of my skills. I can tell they all have ulterior motives."  With a darkened expression, he fiddled with the staff in his hand, his grip growing increasingly uncertain until it clumsily slipped from his grasp.

"They want you as leverage against your brother. Those bastards!" Branka interjected, voicing the bitter truth that hung in the air.

I averted my eyes, feeling sick to my stomach at this revelation. As much as I prided myself on knowing everything about this universe, I knew surprisingly little about the hardships faced by the characters involved. Dragan's entire youth, after being saved by Ivan from his deadly fever, must have been incredibly difficult. Ivan's refusal to join a guild meant that he continuously expanded his pool of enemies, knowing the potential corruption that awaited him in their clutches. He valued his freedom and independence, ensuring a life for himself and Dragan free from external control. But what about Dragan?

"You know, master..." Dragan's voice cut through my thoughts, capturing my attention. "There is actually something I'd love to do."

Branka gave a slight nod, signaling for Dragan to continue. 

"At first, I considered joining the knights as my best option," he began, "but I grew disillusioned with the way they operated."

What Dragan said made perfect sense.The knights, though separate from the guilds, were akin to the police in our world. However, much like some of the corrupt guilds, they too abused their authority. Their relentless and incredibly petty feud with the guilds only served to worsen everyone's lives, leaving people to fend for themselves.

Bending down to retrieve the staff he had dropped, Dragan effortlessly lifted it once again. 

"That's when a better idea struck me. What if I formed my own guild and became its guildmaster? Ivo could join me, too..." He trailed off at the end, clearly imagining such a future with a bittersweet smile. 

“But I can’t,” he admitted with a hint of resignation and I felt a certain bitterness myself.

Branka understood his words and continued instead. "Doing so would only draw an even larger target on both of your backs."

The weight of the conversation left me feeling despondent, my frustration bubbling up within me. In a futile attempt to alleviate the bitter emotions coursing through my body, I bit into the inside of my cheek. Of course, the only effect it had on me was a light pain, since I didn’t bite hard enough to bruise myself. 

As I listened to Dragan's heartfelt aspirations, a determination sparked within me. If I could assist Ivan and Dragan in overcoming the guild masters, there might be a glimmer of hope for Dragan to establish his own guild one day. Despite his current hot-blooded nature, I believed deep down that he had the potential to become a remarkable and level-headed guildmaster, especially with his brother by his side. He simply needed the support to make it a reality!

With this newfound goal etched in my mind, I turned my attention back to Dragan and Branka, who were making their way toward the house. Originally, I had intended to wait for Ivan's return in the evening, but watching Dragan compelled me to act sooner. After accompanying Dragan back and bidding him farewell, my next stop would be Ivan's pharmacy.