Page 60 of Immortal

Fear pooled in my gut. My gaze shifted to the sword he carried, the one I’d returned to him. “Shall we begin?”

He gestured to me. “Show me how you hold a sword.”

I unsheathed mine, holding it as firmly as I could, its tip pointed at him.

“Now, attack me.”

I thrust the sword toward him, the point quivering as it halted just before his chest. Zhangwei didn’t bother to flinch or evade. Next time, I just might run him through—not all the way, but a little.

He grinned. “That’s a fine move if your enemy was a tree, considerate enough to stand still while you attacked.”

“Then teach me how to do it better,” I snapped, lowering my arm. “Why do you think I asked you to?”

He frowned. “Weren’t you trained in combat, like most of your people?”

“I didn’t learn as quickly as the others,” I replied stiffly. “I wasn’t born strong like you; I couldn’t run as fast, nor could I hold a sword for hours on end.”

“I didn’t know.” A brief pause before he asked, “Was your life here hard?”

“No,” I said at once. “I don’t need your pity or anyone else’s. I was lucky. I was not as strong as the others but had family who loved me, a secure place in the world. Since I was young, I’ve had a dream, something to live for. Some people go their whole lives looking for these things, never finding them. Nobody’s life is perfect, it’s just what we choose to see when we look at ours.”

“You are wise,” he said in a quiet tone.

“I’ve been called many things before, but never wise.” I smiled, echoing what he’d said to me once when I’d called him a beast.

“Then you’re surrounded by fools.”

His stare unnerved me; I looked down at my feet. Careless, to lapse into speaking to him in this familiar way. It was easier when we were fighting . . . because then, I wasn’t fighting with myself.

“Did taking the Divine Pearl Lotus strengthen you?” he asked.

“Yes.” I turned back to him. “I’m also aware that may change once I give it to you, but I’ve accepted the price.”

“What’s cured will not be undone,” he assured me. “But any other advantages the lotus yielded will vanish. If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

He straightened, moving toward me. “Then let’s continue. If you could hurt a Winged Devil with a dagger, you have some skill—but while such a weapon might work for the element of surprise, you’ll lose against the reach of a sword.” He tapped the hilt of my blade. “Show me your stance again.”

As I held the sword, he stood behind me, leaning over to adjust my grip. He seemed unaffected by our closeness like he’d slipped effortlessly into his role of the queen’s general, training me as one of the troops. Except I was struggling to set him from my mind, to ignore the brush of his chest against my shoulders, his hand clasped over mine.

“Don’t grip the sword with all your fingers like you’re clutching a stick,” he told me. “Wrap your thumb over the middle two—your remaining fingers should be used to support and guide, but not to grasp.”

The sword slid from my hand to the ground, narrowly missing slicing my toe. “Isn’t it less secure this way?” I asked, picking it up again.

“You need to be able to use your sword against an opponent. By clutching it so tightly, you can’t wield it as well—and when you lack flexibility, it becomes easier for an enemy to disarm you. To block or strike, you have to react quickly,” he explained patiently. “Holding it this way, the hilt glides in the hollow of your palm while still in a steady grip. Practice this until it comes naturally to you, until the weapon becomes an extension of your arm. Don’t worry about using it to attack just yet—that will come.”

I did as he instructed, repeating the moves. It was easier to listen when he spoke in this manner, his measured tone that of a teacher.

Once he was satisfied, Zhangwei stepped back, spreading his arms. “Attack me.”

I lunged at him at once, not wasting a moment. My sole advantage lay in surprise, though I doubted my blow would land—already flinching as the sword hurtled toward him. Zhangwei held his ground till the last moment, spinning aside—until somehow, he was behind me. His scent suffused my senses, his robe brushing mine. A moment’s distraction was all it took as he caught my wrist and flipped it up, my sword falling to the ground. I snatched my hand back, glaring at him.

“Don’t be upset, whether with me or yourself,” he said. “When I trained, I was disarmed and knocked to the ground countless times.”

Satisfaction coursed through me at the thought. “Who knocked you down?”

“My teachers. Other students.” A smile lit his face, one that irked me for some reason. He continued, “Failing is an essential part of learning. Each time you’re beaten or outmaneuvered, study why, learn the signs—you won’t be as easily defeated next time.”