Bully Lord

Part-238

James blinked, taken aback. "You’re joking, right?"

Carlos’s expression didn’t change. "I’m not joking. Start now."

James groaned inwardly but complied, lifting his left foot off the ground and steadying himself. He took a deep breath and began the first swing. Immediately, he felt the strain as his balance wavered, forcing him to adjust and readjust with each movement. By the time he reached the tenth swing, his leg was trembling, sweat pouring down his face. The task was impossible—or at least it felt that way.

Carlos watched him with a hawk's eye, offering no encouragement, no reassurance—just silent judgment. James’s frustration grew with every failed attempt, but he refused to give up. He kept swinging, even as his body screamed in protest. But eventually, his leg gave out, and he stumbled, catching himself just before hitting the floor.

"Pathetic," Carlos muttered, shaking his head. "I thought you were better than this."

James gritted his teeth, anger flaring within him. He grabbed the sword, ready to continue, but Carlos stopped him with a raised hand. "Enough for today. You’re exhausted, and you won’t improve if you push yourself past your limit."

"But—"

"No ‘buts,’" Carlos interrupted, his voice firm. "Martial arts or swordsmanship isn’t just about physical strength. It’s about knowing your limits and overcoming them—one step at a time."

James stood there, panting, frustration etched across his face. But deep down, he knew Carlos was right. He bowed his head. "I understand."

"Good," Carlos said, his expression softening just a bit. "You’ve got potential, kid. But potential means nothing if you don’t have the discipline to back it up. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll try again."

As James began to gather his things, he noticed Mili approaching him, hesitantly. She seemed to be struggling with her words, unsure of what to say.

"You looked like you were struggling," she finally said, her voice softer than usual. "you are always this... reckless."

James let out a tired laugh. "Yeah, well, maybe I’m just trying to find my way."

Mili crossed her arms, tilting her head. "And do you think swordsmanship is the answer?"

"I don’t know," James admitted, his eyes meeting hers. "But I have to keep trying, don’t I?"

Mili frowned, unsure of how to respond. "Just… don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You can’t master everything overnight."

James offered her a tired smile. "I know. But I can’t stop either. I’ve come too far."

James needs to explore every possible way to advance in the dungeon. If he has to switch to being an archer, he'll do it, no cap.

She shook her head, unable to fully grasp his determination. "You’re a fool," she muttered, though there was no malice in her voice. In fact, there was something akin to admiration.

"Yeah," James agreed, his eyes gleaming with that familiar fire. "But maybe that’s what it takes."

Mili watched as he walked away, his figure growing smaller with each step, yet his presence somehow remained larger than life. She couldn’t quite understand what drove him—why he pushed himself so relentlessly, why he sought to master so many different forms of combat. But maybe, just maybe, that was the very thing that made him so captivating.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back one last time, whispering under her breath, "Good luck, James."