SSS Hypnosis: I Made the Heroines Beg for Forgiveness-Chapter 26: Training (2)

Not far from the towering Guild building stood a wide, empty training ground.

The flat stretch of earth was clearly maintained, dotted with archery targets in the distance and straw dummies lined up for practice.

The air was quiet. No clashing swords, no shouted instructions, no labored breathing from exhausted adventurers. Just the occasional whistle of wind sweeping across the field.

Near the entrance of the training grounds, beneath the shadow of one of the Guild's tall towers, four figures stood.

Alice stared blankly at the silent field, her golden eyes steady and unreadable.

Benedict stood beside her, mentally preparing for what he suspected would be a brutal training session under Alice's direction.

Meanwhile, Niel and Theodore simply waited for orders from their leader.

Niel had a longsword sheathed at his side, while Theodore carried a bow slung across his back.

"Sooo... what are we doing now, Leader?" Theodore finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Niel. Go grab two wooden swords," Alice said, pointing at the training weapons lined up on the rack nearby.

Niel raised an eyebrow, as if tempted to question her, but held back. He walked over and picked up two practice swords, then brought them back to her.

"Benedict." Alice called out, snapping him out of whatever daydream he'd been lost in.

"Y-yeah?" Benedict turned toward Niel, his gaze drifting to the wooden swords with growing suspicion.

"Can you fight?" Alice asked plainly.

Wait, fight? On the first day of training?

Am I seriously about to get thrown into a one-on-one match? With her?

Shit. I'll get annihilated.

Truth be told, I barely know how to fight. The original Benedict never trained, never exercised. He just sat in corners getting mocked by everyone around him.

"A little," Benedict answered vaguely. Sure, he somehow managed to take down a wolf back in the forest... but he paid for it with a horrific death, didn't he?

Alice gave a small nod, then turned back to Niel.

"Niel, spar with him. One-on-one. I want to see what he's capable of."

Niel blinked in surprise and pointed at himself. "Me?"

"Was I not clear?" Alice asked flatly.

"N-no, Leader. I'm just... surprised." Niel scratched his head awkwardly.

He glanced at Benedict, weighing whether or not he should hold back.

"You ready?" Niel asked Benedict.

"Yeah," Benedict said with a small nod.

From the side, Theodore made a sharp "psst" sound. Niel looked over, and Theodore subtly shook his head, signaling him to go easy.

Alice didn't see the exchange. She was already walking toward the stone benches off to the side. She glanced back and motioned for Theodore to follow her.

"Don't be so tense, kid," Niel said as he noticed sweat starting to bead on Benedict's forehead.

Well, he's not wrong. I'm nervous as hell. It's my first real one-on-one, and it's with Alice's subordinate. For all I know, he's insanely strong.

They met in the center of the field. Niel tossed one of the wooden swords at Benedict, who caught it with his skeletal hand.

Under the bright morning sun, in the middle of that vast empty field, the two of them stood facing each other.

Each held a plain wooden sword, solid enough to bruise or break if swung with force. This wasn't a fight to the death. It was a test. One arranged by Alice.

One of them was Benedict, silver-haired and crimson-eyed, calm yet alert under the sunlight.

Opposite him stood Niel, a well-built man with a grounded, solid aura. Clearly experienced. Clearly dangerous. And one of Alice's most trusted men.

Both assumed ready stances, the tension between them crackling like static in the air.

Not far away, on the stone benches, sat Alice, watching intently, her eyes sharp and unreadable.

Next to her lounged Theodore, who looked relaxed but kept his gaze fixed on the two fighters.

"How long do you think he'll last, Theodore?" Alice murmured, more to herself than anyone.

Theodore squinted toward Benedict. "Three minutes, maybe? Five, if Niel holds back. That's if he gets lucky."

The moment Benedict gave the signal that he was ready, Niel didn't waste a second.

He lunged forward with explosive speed.

His legs drove him off the ground like a fired arrow, and his sword swung in a clean arc, aiming for Benedict's neck, a direct, ruthless strike.

By all logic, Benedict shouldn't have been able to react.

With zero real training in this world, he should've frozen. But something inside him snapped into place.

His instincts kicked in. Leftover reflexes from the life-or-death struggle in the forest.

Before he even realized it, his body moved.

He raised the wooden sword and blocked the attack with a solid parry.

THWACK!

The crack of wood echoed across the field. Niel's deadly slash was stopped cold.

Benedict felt the vibration rattle through his arms, but his grip stayed firm.

Niel didn't show any annoyance. His face remained calm, almost unreadable.

In one smooth motion, he pivoted and redirected his sword, this time thrusting straight for Benedict's chest.

Benedict shifted to the side, avoiding the strike by a hair's breadth.

The wooden sword swished past his chest, missing him completely.

"Not bad. Your instincts are decent," Niel said, his tone flat but faintly impressed. "But instincts alone won't cut it. Use your damn feet."

Niel pressed forward. This time, he unleashed a rapid combo, slashes toward Benedict's arm, shoulder, then a sudden feint toward his head.

Benedict managed to dodge the first, barely deflected the second, and the third, he only escaped because he leaned back at the last second.

He could feel the air shift as the strike passed by his temple.

"Too slow!" Niel barked. "Your guard's wide open. Keep your distance!"

Benedict tried to retreat, to gain space, but Niel hounded him, always one step ahead. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Despite his bulky frame, the man moved with surprising agility. Every strike was efficient. Wasting no energy.

Benedict felt like he was dancing across hot coals, every step threatening disaster.

This is insane. He's not even going all out... and I'm already out of breath.

Sweat trickled into his eyes. His breath grew ragged, lungs burning with each inhale.

Niel noticed. "Tired already, kid?" he said coolly. "A real fighter needs bottomless stamina. Some fights go on for hours."

Then he switched tactics.

No more direct attacks.

Now, he pressured Benedict, forced him to move. Forced him to dodge. Forced him to burn through what little stamina he had.

Every swing pushed Benedict back. Every shift in Niel's footing made Benedict scramble to adjust.

Gritting his teeth, Benedict pressed on.