Reincarnated into Two Bodies

Our joint training session pressed on after my match with Attila. After that, I calmly sat by the spectator booth while the others took the ring.

Kyro went up against Clarissa, and their match didn’t last long. Not because one side dominated the other, no. In fact, the winner of that battle was still being debated, as Kyro and Clarissa pondered whether catching an arrow by the palm counted as a solid hit or not.

The thing was, they weren’t really debating if they had won, but in fact the opposite. They were trying to convince each other that they themselves lost, for some reason.

The only reason we weren’t pondering about it for the rest of their match was that I stepped in and told them I’d look into what counts as a solid hit for arrows. In the end, I established a house rule that a solid hit from an arrow meant a hit to the torso, head, or anywhere near.

With the case now closed, the next round began. Eve made her way to her position on the mat.

It had been a while since I'd seen Eve wield a weapon. In fact, the last time was all the way back during our entrance exam.

She held in her hands a standard-issue training spear. The polished wood gleamed in her hands; a small form of pride welled up in my chest when I recognized it as the spear I personally cleaned.

She took up a textbook defensive stance, the tip of her spear aimed at the opponent before her.

Her opponent was none other than Villius. He, too, held a standard-issue training weapon, and as usual, it was a sword. He held an aggressive stance, perhaps aiming to outmaneuver Eve’s spear.

"Be gentle with me, okay?" Eve murmured, her tone not particularly helpless, and more so teasing.

Villius offered a single, solemn nod.

Lionne, the referee again, raised her hand up high holding the flag that had long lost its identity as a towel. Then, in one quick motion, she swung her arm down.

Villius exploded forward with energy and came at her swinging. Nothing about it seemed gentle at all.

But Eve wasn’t just going to take it. She made full use of the distance her spear gave her, and played it safe against Villius. She kept her spear stable yet fluid in her hands as she constantly circled and flowed around the mat, testing Villius’s defenses.

Villius kept the same hybrid style of his, still mixing in some of his own moves into the Sareid fundamentals, and it seemed to work in his favor this time.

He began to close the distance as the exchanges went on. Still, he looked cautious with every step he took. After all, one single thrust could end him.

As the fight continued on, I took note of their expressions.

Villius seemed to take the fight seriously, treating it as if it was a real fight. Not a bad way to immerse himself. I was just a bit worried he might come on too hard on Eve.

Eve, on the other hand, seemed like she was having fun. Not ‘having the time of her life’ kind of fun like Attila would have, but she seemed thrilled as she watched Villius’s attempts at attacking her.

She might be losing some distance bit by bit, but the fact that she managed to hold off Villius for this long was impressive enough on its own.

Then, the match began to signal its end.

Villius initiated a heavy, vertical strike. Sensing an opening, Eve lunged forward with a lightning-fast thrust aimed straight at his guts.

But Villius had anticipated the counter. Twisting his wrists at an angle, he used the hilt of his wooden sword to catch and throw the spearhead away from his body, stepping inside her guard in the blink of an eye.

It only took one single spin before the edge of his blade came to a dead halt right against Eve’s chin.

Eve didn't flinch. Instead, a smirk spread across her lips. "So… You call that gentle?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disrespect you by going easy,” Villius replied.

Eve let out a single scoff as she backed off, lowering her spear and loosening her grip. Villius backed off as well, rolling his shoulders.

“That was a good fight,” he said. “I feel like I learned quite a bit from that.”

“As did I. We should spar more often,” she said lightly before turning to the rest of us. “So, who’s up next?”

A hand shot up in the air.

"Me! Me next!" Attila shouted, vibrating like a machine. It seemed the two fights before amped her up, despite the fact she just went for a fight two matches earlier.

Still, not like anyone was gonna stop her.

I wonder who she is going to pick for a spar this time, though.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"This time, my opponent is... Lady Carine!"

Back to back, Attila?

—

I stood on the mat as Carine, holding my personal training sword. I quietly traced the subtle engravings along the crossguard, taking a slow, deep breath to steady myself. In the meantime, I did my best to tune out Feyt’s signal from my mind, just to give Carine all the focus.

Across from me, Attila was practically bouncing in place, doing a series of high-energy shoulder rolls that looked less like a warm-up and more like a boxer raring to punch something. The moment her eyes met mine, her grin widened.

"I’ve been waiting for this all day, Lady Carine!" Attila chirped, her voice echoing off the high stone ceiling. "I watched you swat down Clarissa's arrows like they were nothing. You've got to show me how you do that. Don't go easy on me just because I'm a commoner, okay?"

I offered her a calm, measured smile. "Rest assured, Attila, I have no intention of holding back. I only hope this match will prove fruitful for the both of us."

"Oh, I know it will be! Trust me!" she laughed, gripping her wooden hilt firmly.

She wasn’t lying when she said she was hyped up about fighting Carine. The least I could do was show her a good time. But more than that, I actually had my own agenda… again.

I knew I just discovered Feyt’s muscle hearing technique, but that didn’t mean I should ignore improving Carine’s eyes.

If Feyt’s ears could hear someone’s muscle if focused, could Carine’s eyes reach that same level of heightened focus? That was a question I asked myself just moments after Feyt’s match against Attila.

Now, I had the perfect opportunity to test the theory, against the exact same opponent, no less.

All to elevate Carine’s eyes from predicting an attack the moment it happens, to just before it happens.

Lionne stepped to the edge of the mat, raising the flag-tower high into the air.

Attila dropped into a low, forward stance, her center of gravity leaning forward like a coiled spring ready to explode. I raised my blade, adopting the standard, yet elegant guard of the Sareid stance, my eyes locking onto her shoulders, her wrists, the slight tilt of her chin.

I analyzed every bit of her body, trying to take note of any shifts or movement.

Then, as we bated our breaths—

—the flag dropped.

Attila exploded forward, her blade held low.

The sheer speed of her approach was breathtaking, but I didn't panic. I narrowed my focus, forcing my vision to zoom in on the microscopic details of her body. I wasn't just looking at her sword; I was looking through her clothes, targeting the exact line of her biceps and her forearms.

There. I saw the sudden, minute twitch in her right wrist.

She’s aiming up!

Before her wooden blade even began its upward arc, I already knew where the trajectory was heading. I stepped inside her reach, my sword coming up in a flawless, sweeping parry that deflected her strike off to the side.

Yes! It works!

My celebration was cut violently short.

Attila didn't even stumble. Instead, she seamlessly transitioned the momentum into a brutal, blind spin, her body rotating away from me as she brought her blade around in a devastating backhand sweep.

However, I couldn’t predict where it was aiming. Because her back was turned to me during the spin, I couldn't see her shoulders. I couldn't see her shoulder blades. I couldn't see the back of her thighs or the muscles powering the rotation.

Unlike Feyt’s ears, which could hear everything around her body, I noticed now that Carine’s eyes were strictly limited to things in my line of sight. If I couldn’t see the muscle, I couldn’t predict the move.

Giving up on prediction entirely, I fell back to my old tactic, which was using my eyes to react the moment her aim was clear. I raised my blade to block. The moment our swords met, I was once again pushed back from the sheer force, taking the brunt of her strength, sending shockwaves all the way into my bones.

Dammit, again?

Attila pressed the advantage, unleashing a relentless, heavy-handed flurry. She was a whirlwind of motion, constantly twisting, pivoting, and using her momentum to shield her primary muscle groups from my direct line of sight.

I was forced entirely onto the defensive, my boots skidding across the training mat as I barely managed to block and parry her onslaught. Each impact felt like trying to stop a truck.

And then, amidst the clashing of wood, it clicked.

Attila was a heavy hitter. To generate that monstrous level of power, she had to commit her entire body to every swing. And a body in motion leaves a trail of breadcrumbs.

She lunged forward, executing another heavy downward cleave. I didn't look at her arms this time; I looked at her center of gravity. Her hips were tilted too far forward, her weight heavily leaning into her front leg.

Got you. You're overcommitted again.

Instead of blocking and absorbing the shock as she expected, I stepped sharply to the left, angling my blade to meet hers at a sloped tangent. Her heavy sword slid harmlessly down my guard, crashing into the mat instead.

Because of her forward momentum, the sudden lack of resistance threw her entirely off balance. Her shoulder dipped, and her left flank was left completely exposed.

I didn't hesitate. Capitalizing on the massive opening, I drove my body forward, executing a swift, decisive thrust. The tip of my training sword came to a dead stop right against the center of her chest, barely poking her.

The entire room went dead silent.

For a second, the only sound was the heavy, ragged breathing echoing through the chamber. Then, a massive, brilliant grin broke across Attila’s face. She dropped her weapon's tip and raised her hands in defeat.

"Wow..." Attila breathed out, shaking her head in sheer amazement. "That was incredible, Lady Carine! No wonder Feyt trains with you!"

The others erupted with applause and praise regarding the match, but I tuned them out.

I offered Attila a graceful nod. “Thank you for the wonderful fight, Attila. I truly learned something new today.”

“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine!” she said with a bright smile. “I hope we can do this again soon! In fact, wanna spar again later?”

How eager are you to fight me, really?

“I’ll… think about it.”

As I began to make my way back to the others, I pondered my new discovery.

Attempting to use Carine’s eyes to focus like Feyt’s ears… was a dead end. I couldn’t predict someone through their muscle movements since I couldn’t really see through them, only what they presented in front of me.

But Carine’s eyes didn't need to read the muscles or predict something before it happens. They excelled at something entirely different: Pure tactical analysis.

Feyt's ears could anticipate the launch of an attack, sure. But Carine’s eyes could calculate the aftermath of a movement, mapping out the trajectories, the momentum, and the inevitable openings left behind by an opponent's actions.

I've been spotting openings using my eyes since the day I took up a sword, but... all this time, I had been mostly... reactive to it. Meaning, I had only been sensing openings the moment they appear. It was a massive advantage, sure... but if I could predict an opening before it even appears...

Dammit…

Now I want to test even more things.