OBS Chapter 342 : Mace is not for smash
Chapter 342 : Mace is not for smash
Note: Thank You @geana_granger @Mainaka @JonathanMM5 @limpo and "@IcewaterKat" for the Golden tickets.
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As Das completed his tenth round of intense cardio, a noticeable transformation had taken place. His body had regained its form, his muscles now more defined and formidable than before. With every beat of his heart, he could feel the surging energy coursing through his veins, a revitalising force that seemed to reinvigorate every fibre of his being.
With each breath, he could sense the power within him, a hunger for more challenges and a desire to push his limits further. The experience had not only restored his physical strength, but had also ignited an insatiable fire, urging him to reach new heights of potential.
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As Das stood there, catching his breath and feeling the thrum of energy beneath his skin, he knew that he was no longer the same person who had started the training that morning. The old man's guidance, the blood serum's effects, and his own unyielding will had converged to shape a revitalised version of himself.
After another ten minutes of intense exertion, the one-eyed old man signaled for Das to halt. With a nod of approval, he motioned towards the next stage of the training area. There, a row of weapons was neatly arranged in a single line.
What caught Das's attention was the surprising uniformity among these weapons – they were all of the same type: maces. The old man had deliberately chosen maces for this first day of training.
"Pick up the heaviest mace you can handle." The one-eyed old man declared in a stern tone.
The mace, a simple yet effective weapon, consisted of a heavy, large round head like a pumpkin attached to a sturdy handle. (You can refer to lord Bheema's weapon). Its design allowed for powerful strikes that could crush armour and bones alike.
As Das approached the row of maces, he felt a mixture of curiosity and determination. Each mace seemed to emanate a sense of purpose, ready to be wielded by someone who understood its potential.
The old man's choice was not arbitrary; it was a deliberate test of Das's newfound strength and agility. Maces required a combination of brute force, precise control to wield and the weight of the weapon required proper balance and coordination.
With a determined expression, he reached out and chose a mace that resonated with him. Gripping the handle, he could feel the weight and power it held, ready to be unleashed in his skilled hands.
The old man demonstrated each movement with precision, showcasing the fluidity and balance required to maneuver the mace effectively. He explained how a slight shift in posture could mean the difference between success and failure in battle.
He emphasised the importance of anticipation, of reading an opponent's intentions through their movements and adjusting one's own stance accordingly.
As the sun traversed the sky, casting warm hues across the training grounds, the one-eyed old man led Das through a series of attack and defence patterns. Each technique had its purpose – to disarm, to deflect, to counter. Das absorbed the instructions eagerly, internalising the intricate details and striving to replicate the old man's movements.
The mace, once an enigmatic weapon to Das, began to feel like an extension of his own body. With every swing, every parry, he gained a deeper understanding of its dynamics. The hours stretched on, but Das's determination remained unyielding. He knew that mastering these techniques could mean the difference between life and death on the battlefield.
As evening approached, the one-eyed old man's training finally culminated. The demonstration of attacking patterns and defensive maneuvers had taken Das on a transformative journey. Exhausted but exhilarated, Das realised that his proficiency with the mace had grown by leaps and bounds in a single day.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the training grounds, the old man allowed Das a moment of respite. Breathing heavily, Das stood amidst the training dummies and the debris of his efforts. He flexed his fingers around the mace's handle, feeling the weight and power it contained.
"Young master, the food is ready. You did not eat anything from the morning. Please come with me." Sana requested him in a respectful tone.
Beside her Stella, stood with the baby in hands who is staring at Das. After seeing the bleeding naked body, exhausted face, shaking hands and his grip on the mace, tears swirled on Stella's eyes. She stood silently with her head down.
"Leave me alone. I will be back after some time." Das said exhausted tone while staring at the mace in his hands. After seeing the baby in the hands of Stella, his determined to continue his efforts. Ruth who stood a long distance away, turned around after hearing his determined tone.
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Note: Thank you for reading. It is just the first day, that is why it took these many words. We wills peed up the training from tomorrow.
Your's lovingly,
PeterPan :-)