Restart Again: Volume 2 by Adam Scott (hardest books to read txt) 📕

As my fingers dragged across the metal, the clouds lifted from my mind. My body was unresponsive, having finally run out of mana from my last-ditch resistance. As my eyes tracked around the room, I saw two Thralls dragging a terrible black battleaxe between them. The blade screeched across the floor, finally coming to a rest at Gorat’s side. The former councilor hefted the great weapon in one hand as he turned to address me. I saw his lips move, but my ears failed to hear the words.

Tears filled my eyes as the room began to fade from view. “I’m sorry,” I tried to say, struggling to move my lips. A quick, arcing flash pierced the darkness one last time before my eyes gave out. “I’m sorry...I failed.”

***

6. OLD EMOTION

“C’mon, let’s go already!” Lia called out, bouncing eagerly on her heels.

Hana wrung her hands and shimmied forward to the end of the crate she was sitting on. “Please be careful, dear. We already believe that you’ve been training, so there’s really no need for this.”

Marten laughed. “Oh, come now, darling. Aren’t you even a tiny bit curious to see what our little Marlia can do?” He took a seat on the crate next to her and leaned back against the barn, his feet swinging just above the grass.

“Well...I suppose so,” she replied. “Just be careful.”

“You already said that!” Lia groaned. “Besides, it’s not like we’re using our real swords; those are at the keep.” Hana’s face paled as her eyes widened, but a reassuring hand on her back from Marten seemed to keep her from protesting again. “I’m not going to get hurt by a wooden stick!”

“You aren’t going to be injured by a wooden stick,” I corrected with a grin. “Whether you get hurt or not depends on how rusty you are after our break from daily practice.”

“Hey!” Lia huffed indignantly. “That means you’re rusty too!”

I held my hands up in front of me defensively with a chuckle. “Sure, sure. Why don’t we get started? Just the basics at first as a refresher, and then we can move into training with enhancements. Sound good?”

She nodded in response, and we took our starting positions. Our arena was the familiar clearing behind Marten’s barn where I had first taught Lia the basics of using a sword. The empty storage crates had been rearranged to create an arena of bare dirt, just large enough for a sparring match with a full range of motion.

I spun the beheaded broomstick in my hand a few times and readjusted my grip to compensate for the less-than-ideal balance. It was a far cry from the high-quality steel we had grown accustomed to using, but Lia had insisted on practicing as soon as possible. As we slowly rounded the outside of the arena, Marten leaned forward and watched his daughter intently while Hana peeked out over his shoulder with a furrowed brow and shifting eyes.

Lia made the first move of the day. She dashed across the open space and swung out with quick cuts in rapid succession. The wooden sticks clacked angrily in the quiet morning air as her barrage gradually pushed me back towards the ring of crates. “You shouldn’t attack so aggressively,” I called out between bouts. “I know you want to put on a good show for your parents, but don’t let it affect your decisions!” I knew the statement would get a rise out of her, and I watched eagerly for her next move.

“You’re just scared I’m going to get the first hit in!” she yelled as she launched into another series of heavy jabs. “Do you really think I’d—”

The last blow of her assault swung wide, small errors in her form adding up to a final large miscalculation. I brought my stick down with both hands onto her overextended weapon, knocking it from her hand to the dirt where it bounced away behind her. There was a momentary look of shock on her face, but before I could capitalize on my advantage, she closed the distance between us and threw an offhand punch towards my head.

I ducked the punch and dropped my own weapon, the now close-quarters engagement rendering it ineffective. With both hands free, I was able to deflect her blows and throw out my own counterattacks, which she lithely dodged. There was a large grin on her face as we sparred back and forth, and I found myself unable to resist mirroring her expression. It felt good to exert myself in a situation that didn’t have life-or-death consequences again, and I was immensely proud of how well Lia was performing.

The speed of our punches slowed as we both began to pant from exertion. I managed to push her back to the center of our arena with some creative footwork, but she deftly matched my movements without a single misstep and kept fighting. One of my jabs aimed at her ribs flew wide as she spun to my right, and she took advantage of my mistake by snaking a leg between mine and yanking me by the shoulder down into the dirt.

I fell backwards, tripping over her leg and landing hard on my back. Before I had a chance to react, Lia descended upon me; she dove down into a mounting position and attempted to pin my arms to the ground beneath her knees. For a brief moment I thought she had finally beaten me, but as she transitioned to throw a punch down at me, her weight shifted too far forward to hold me down. I spun beneath her just enough to free my arms, allowing me to throw her to the side and scramble to my feet.

We stood to face each other again, now covered in a layer of dirt and sweat. There was a voracity in Lia’s eyes that matched the burning desire for more I felt within me. As I stared her down, eagerly awaiting her next move, I gradually became aware