Chapter 200: You Did Good, Shorty

She rolled her eyes. "That wasn’t what you said last night—or the other nights before."

Orion chuckled, his boot rolling the ball lightly between his feet. "Fine. You are delicious, which is why they’ll eat you without leaving anything behind. Happy now?"

She huffed. "I only want to be delicious for one person."

She adjusted her stance. "I’ll make sure not to fall next time. Let’s continue."

There was a determined look in her eyes that brought a smile to Orion’s face. Sophia wasn’t going to back down—not even a little bit—and damn, that filled him with pride.

"You don’t want to rest?" Orion asked her.

Even if he was proud of her for pushing forward, he didn’t want her to injure herself. And besides, she had just said she was still feeling the aftereffects of what they did the previous night.

Sophia gestured toward the other trainees. One person in Tobias’s group slipped and fell but immediately stood up again, like the fall was the last thing on his mind.

"Compared to them, I’ve done nothing. I’m not going to rest when I’m supposed to be training. And did you forget that just yesterday you told me training would be intense?" she asked him.

"I know but—"

At that point, Sophia had a thought—if only Joren and the others could see Orion right now. They wouldn’t believe this was the same strict man who had been teaching them for a while now. The one who talked about perseverance and how they needed to keep pushing, even when bone-dead tired. The same one who had laughed when the others looked exhausted after just learning about anchor steps.

She was sure Joren would have a mini heart attack if he could see Orion now—and hear how caring and worried he sounded. The others would have a hard time reconciling this version of Orion with the version they knew.

But that wasn’t the point now. She came here for something, and just because she wasn’t as strong as the others didn’t mean she was going to put in less effort. If anything, she was going to put in more effort, because she was the one with the least experience.

"I’m not weak, Orion. My stamina may be below normal—just like my height—but it doesn’t make me weak. I was the one who met you for training, so don’t even try to go easy on me, especially when I’m not going easy on myself. If you get too soft on me, then I’ll go meet someone else to teach me," she told him.

Orion released a low growl at that. "I’m the best teacher you’ll ever get."

"Then teach me. Not as a partner, but as a student," she told him.

Orion closed one eye. "I can’t do both?" he asked her.

She shrugged at him. "Suit yourself. Now, can we go back to the game? I’m determined to get that ball from you."

He laughed at her, then with a smirk, told her, "If you’re ready, then come and get it."

She huffed and tried again, this time more deliberate. Her steps were grounded, her weight shifting from one anchor point to another as she closed in. Orion watched her carefully—he could see her mind working, piecing together lessons she had only learned a day ago.

He moved backward, guiding the ball with his foot, drawing her out and forcing her to think, not react. Sophia mirrored his steps, her eyes darting between his feet and the ball. She was getting faster, sharper, more precise.

But she was also too tense.

"You’re too wound up, shorty," he said lightly, rolling the ball away from her outstretched leg. "Loosen your body. Let it flow. Just because you want the ball doesn’t mean you have to forget what you’re training for. Your footwork is a part of you—you don’t have to be so obvious about how conscious you are of it. Think of it like dancing; you don’t care where your feet go, you just flow with the rhythm. That’s how your footwork should be."

"You just flow with the rhythm," Sophia said, mocking him. "Annoying ogre."

Orion’s lips twitched. "What was that?"

"I just called you an ogre, nothing too much," she said with a sweet voice before lunging at him again.

This time, she nearly got it. But nearly doesn’t mean she did. The ball slipped against her leg, bouncing once before Orion caught it again with a lazy flick of his boot.

"Hmm," he said to her.

"Is that a good hmm or a bad one?" she asked him with narrowed eyes.

"It’s a good one. You did better. That was much better than the elephant dance you’ve been doing," he told her.

"I wasn’t doing an elephant dance, you oaf," she replied with an eye roll.

"It looked like it."

He leaned forward slightly, tapping her cheek with two fingers. "You did good, shorty."

Sophia blinked, heat rushing to her face at the unexpected gesture. She was even about to say thank you to him—but before she could say anything, Orion moved.

In one swift motion, he swept a leg behind hers and slid it forward just enough to knock her off balance.

Sophia yelped as the ground rushed up to meet her, landing with a soft thud and a puff of dust. "What the hell?"

He crouched down to her level, resting one elbow on his knee and meeting her glare with a faint grin. "All’s fair on the battlefield. Just because you got something right doesn’t mean you get to relax. Relaxing will get you killed. This is a sign for you to always stay alert. One moment is all it takes for your opponent to win against you."

"But did you have to do it now?" she asked him.

Orion shrugged. "How else would you learn? Did you forget I told you guys that the best teacher when it comes to fighting is trial and error? You learn, you practice, you find out what’s good for you, you find out what you’re doing wrong, you correct it, you practice again—it’s like that." He told her, "And besides, what if you make this same mistake during a battle? It could get you killed, and I’m not going to want your annoying self to die yet—not when this relationship just began."

"Funny how before anyone else kills me, I’d die by your hands," she told him.