I didn't even want to begin wondering what devious plan was going through his crafty mind. I hoped the partner he chose wasn't me. I'd already been tested enough today—what more did he want me to do for him to let me go? Was he going to turn me into a kebab?
While Oliver was forcing himself not to laugh, I was holding myself back from crying. But Oliver, as if he couldn't resist, said the sentence I didn't want to hear:
"Arthur, you got rejected by a servant, hahah! Pathetic."
The boy with black hair slicked back, Arthur, gave only one response—his hand moved towards his sword. Oliver quickly put his hand to his mouth, signaling his silence.
"I didn't reject you, Arthur. I just wanted to see how strong your assistant is," the Young Master said, and as he neared the end of his statement, he locked eyes with me.
A chill ran down my spine. This heartless bastard won't wait for me to resign. He'll give me a death guise during training and execute me. There could be no other explanation. I should have researched how some of his previous assistants had left.
"The toy looks like it's going to break early," Henry said, inspecting his sword.
"I don't think it will break. This toy seems more durable than the others," Oliver replied
They were talking about me. I wonder if they realized that?
After a while, the trainer arrived and gave everyone time to choose their partners. Henry paired up with Oliver. Arthur was with someone else in the class. When the Young Master told the trainer that he had chosen me, I noticed the trainer didn't react much. Normally, assistants or servants like us weren't allowed to participate in the lesson, but it seemed that since the Young Master had "tested" so many of his assistants with his sword before, the trainer had gotten used to it and approved without objection.
When we moved to the fighting arenas in the training area, the trainer explained the rules. It was forbidden to step out of the arena, and the fight would end if someone got injured or surrendered. Since this was noble children's training, any serious injury could cause the trainer a lot of trouble.
"Ready," the trainer said, and I focused on the Young Master. He held his sword in his right hand, standing tall with his feet shoulder-width apart and his knees slightly bent. I tried to mimic him, but no matter how much I tried, my stance felt a bit too loose.
"Fight!"
Suddenly, he attacked me with his sword. The only thing I could do was dodge to the right. I heard snickers from the crowd. He kept attacking while I kept dodging. When he swung his sword again, as I tried to avoid the blow, my feet tangled, and I found myself on the ground.
Laughter echoed through the air. The instructor warned those who were laughing, but no one really listened. The Young Master looked at me like a hunter watching its prey. This was not going to end well...
When he swung his sword again, I panicked and raised my sword to defend myself. I had my eyes closed, but I could feel something had changed. The laughter had stopped.
Had I hurt the Young Master? Why was there no sound coming from anyone?