Elion stretched his limbs, a wooden sword resting in his hand as he admired the advanced training room Alexander had brought him to.

’Wow...’

It was far more advanced than the ones they had back at the academy.

According to Alexander, this room had self-regenerative functions, automated humanoid constructs to train against if you didn’t have a partner, and even flying targets to practice your marksmanship with spells or whatever else you wanted to throw at them.

Elion’s gaze moved slowly across the space, taking everything in.

’This might be a couple of centuries behind my time... but it’s still way more advanced than anything I’ve seen.’

He exhaled lightly.

’Must be the perks of being the home of a king.’

They clearly had access to the latest technology that this whole world had to offer.

Even the mana here was far thicker than any other place he had been to, and at least five times denser than the outside environment. He couldn’t help himself, so he commented on it.

"...The mana here..." he muttered.

Alexander glanced at him.

"Oh, this? It’s nothing special."

Elion looked at him.

"...Nothing special?"

"Yeah," Alexander said casually. "This is just a standard training room. It’s used by any ordinary mage or warrior employed by the royal family."

Elion blinked.

’...What?’

Alexander continued without much thought.

"The rooms my father and I use are much better."

"...How much better?" Elion asked as his lip twitched.

Alexander shrugged.

"Maybe two or three times better? I’m not sure."

Elion narrowed his eyes slightly.

’...Closer to ten times density then?’

And honestly, that didn’t seem unreasonable. This way, things started to make sense for him. If Isla spent most of her time in a place like this, or something even better, then reaching her current level without much effort wasn’t surprising at all.

She wouldn’t need to try nearly as hard as someone training in normal conditions.

Elion exhaled slowly.

’No wonder...’

He finally understood something else. Some of the students back at the academy used to say they hoped to be employed in the royal castle.

It wasn’t just about status.

It was about gaining access to places like this, access to advantages like this. Perks that could change everything, the kind you would never dream of while living as a self-sufficient mage or warrior.

Elion stopped looking around and turned his gaze back toward the prince.

He had told the boy he could use an actual spear, after all, he stood no real chance of landing a blow on Elion if Elion didn’t allow it, but the young prince had declined, saying he didn’t want to accidentally hurt him.

"The healers are at war," he had added. "Finding one nearby would be troublesome."

That statement had made Elion scoff. But he still let him use a wooden spear like he wanted. Apparently, Alexander the Great, the version of this prince and the king from his own time, had primarily been a spear wielder, which was odd.

Elion clearly remembered hearing that the great king had also been quite proficient with a sword. Turns out he had been multi-talented with weapons all along.

Elion’s eyes narrowed slightly as he observed him.

Alexander stood side-on, facing him, his spear resting along his right forearm from behind, left foot forward. It was balanced and grounded.

’Good stance,’ Elion thought.

He didn’t really expect himself to be good at this kind of thing, being a teacher that is. Worst of all, he had never touched a spear in his life, so in that regard, Alexander was one hundred percent better than him.

Meaning he could do much to give him pointers that could improve his skill with his spear. But sparring was universal.

Movement, timing, and reading your opponent. Those things didn’t change, no matter the weapon preference.

In a way, this would be a valuable training exercise for both of them. No matter how small the benefit.

"Today is purely physical and weapon training," Elion informed him calmly.

"Tomorrow, you’ll show me your magic casting skills and everything else."

Alexander nodded.

"Understood."

"You have the first move," Elion added as he smiled lightly, "Do not disappoint me, Alexander."

His grin shifted grin turned a bit wolfish.

Alexander immediately felt a chill run down his spine.

Regardless, he shook away the momentary hesitation and moved first, taking a quick step forward that broke into a stride and a run as his spear shot toward Elion’s chest.

It was clean and direct with no clear openings to exploit, so Elion didn’t counter. He simply shifted slightly, letting the tip pass by with ease.

The prince quickly drew back his spear and threw in another thrust, faster this time, and Elion stepped back half a pace with his eyes fixed on the boy’s movements, watching and studying him patiently.

Alexander frowned slightly when he realised that he wasn’t being taken seriously.

He pressed forward, chaining a few more thrusts together, adding a faint sweep toward the legs before snapping the spear back into guard.

Elion’s lips twitched faintly.

’Not bad.’

But he quickly noticed a slight overextension on the second thrust, followed by a momentary imbalance after the sweep.

This time, Elion decided to move first. They circled each other before meeting down the middle. A loud clack echoed as sword and spear met once, twice, thrice, and the exchange quickly blew up into a flurry of blows.

Wood met wood occasionally now, mostly in light taps and controlled contact. Elion was barely using any physical strength at all, relying instead on his technique, forcing Alexander to match the pace he was setting.

If he used too much strength, Elion would use his momentum against him, and if he used too little or didn’t commit, he would be overpowered. It didn’t take the prince long to realise that he was being manipulated like a puppet on strings.

’Damn it!’

"You lean too far into your second thrust," Elion said calmly.

Alexander’s brows furrowed mid-motion.

"...What?"

"If I wanted to punish you for that, you’d already be on the ground."

Alexander clicked his tongue lightly, but he adjusted to his error; the next exchange was cleaner.

They went again. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"And your left side opens up when you retract too quickly." Another correction.

"Your footing is solid, but your transitions are slow."

Alexander nodded and adjusted again.

"You rely too much on reach, which is not bad for a spear wielder, but try to close the distance sometimes, don’t hesitate."

He nodded lightly and adjusted again.

Like that, they continued in a steady rhythm.

Strike, evade, correct, and improve.

Alexander listened every time, and each time, he slowly got better and smoother with his strikes and movements.

Time passed.

Minutes turned into an hour. Then another. Sweat beaded on Alexander’s brow, and his breathing grew heavier. His movements became just a little bit slower than when they started.

Elion, on the other hand, looked just as refreshed as when they began. His breathing wasn’t even a tad bit laboured. Alexander tightened his grip on the spear.

His arms felt heavier, and his legs were slower to respond each time. He glanced at Elion with a pleading look on his handsome face.

’Isn’t this enough...?’

Elion met his gaze calmly and smiled, his smile quickly turning into a wolfish grin. Alexander froze for a split second. His expression turned grim.

"...You bastard."

The realisation dawned on him

’So this is how he planned to punish me...’

He cursed his own foolishness from yesterday.

And then, the torture began. The pace changed. Elion stepped in swiftly, moving far quicker than what Alexander had grown used to.

Thwack!

The wooden sword struck Alexander’s wrist, and his grip faltered on his spear. Before he could recover....

Crack!

Another strike to the shoulder. Another to the thigh, the ribs. It was relentless! Alexander tried to respond to the attacks; he tried to keep up, but he couldn’t do so anymore.

Maybe he might have been able to keep up with the sudden change in pace earlier, but he was too tired now; his reaction time and speed were suffering as a result. It was hard to stay sharp when your body was weary.

Blows kept landing on his hands, head, legs, and abdomen, each once stinging sharply as bruises formed beneath his clothes. His breathing turned even more ragged and uneven.

"Shouldn’t we... stop to eat...?" he managed at one point, frustration slipping into his voice. He quickly realised that it was a grave mistake.

The very next moment...

Thwack!

He was punished for speaking out

"...Ah—!"

Alexander staggered.

That question had only made it worse. He was wheezing now, completely out of breath. His body screamed at him from every angle. It was sore, and it burned.

’I’m so exhausted and hungry.’

But he didn’t feel like stopping. He had his own pride, so he clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain as he raised his spear.

Blocked what he could and reduced the damage as much as he could, and he endured for as long as his body allowed him.

Minutes blurred and stretched on, and another hour passed, until eventually, the world narrowed from his field of vision.

Suddenly, the pain wracking his body faded before vanishing completely. His legs gave out from under him, and the spear slipped from his grasp. His body tilted and collapsed onto the ground while his vision dimmed to nothing.

’My eyelids feel heavy.’

That was the last thought he had, and darkness claimed him.

Elion stopped mid strike and stood still, watching as the prince’s body went limp and hit the ground.

"...Oh." He blinked lightly, "...Shit."

That was unexpected. He had assumed Alexander still had a few more hours in him. The boy had still looked energetic right up until the end, so he hadn’t noticed how much he had been struggling all this time.

If only he knew that it had taken every ounce of strength just to keep his eyes open in the past hour.

Elion scratched the back of his head lightly.

"...Maybe I overdid it a bit."

...

Meanwhile, that same morning, back in Elion’s room, Isla finally stirred awake.