Sleep offered  solace that night. Liam tossed and turned, haunted by fragmented images of crumbling tombs and swirling ice. When the first rays of dawn crept through his window, he felt more exhausted than  he knew he couldn''t afford to hide in his room all day. The tournament was only a week away, and his family expected him to train.


    As he made his way to the training yard, Liam braced himself for the usual round of taunts and humiliation. Gareth and his sisters were already there, practicing their footwork with speed and precision that made Liam''s head spin. He joined them hesitantly, picking up a practice sword and falling into the familiar routine.


    But something was different today. As he moved through the steps, he felt a  sense of balance and coordination. His movements were still clumsy, but  less labored, more fluid. He found himself anticipating his siblings'' attacks, reacting faster, and maintaining his footing


    Gareth stopped mid-strike, his brow furrowed in surprise. "What''s gotten into you, Liam?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "Did you finally  take this seriously?"


    Liam shrugged, unsure how to explain the sudden improvement. "I just... feel a little better today, I guess."


    Anya and Freya exchanged skeptical glances, but  didn''t press the issue. They resumed their training, but Liam could feel their eyes on him, watching his every move. He pushed himself harder, focusing on mastering  The style his father used was known as "frost-step." It was a fast but brutal technique that combined small movements to confuse the opponent, making him focus on what was  on so intently that it would leave an opening to attack. Liam has never  this, but maybe he will now.


    In the days that followed, Liam  every basic step. The mark on his back remained hidden beneath his tunic, a secret source of  fear and newfound strength. With the tournament fast approaching, his mind started to work on any plans or strategies to  would love to take on this family challenge. With the week''s rest and training, Liam and his siblings took a short  there are a few  who are renown in other parts of the kingdom and a sword is nothing more than an elegant hunk of metal, but in Drakonia, it is an honor for anyone who takes that as their weapon. But there will be one family to be careful about, the Dergovia.


    With these thoughts in mind, he  to  to sleep, hoping that in his dreams, he would be granted some insight or strength. However, as the morning came, Liam found himself back in the training yard before  only light  the moon shining through the keep''s high windows. He swung his practice sword aimlessly, his movements stiff and uncoordinated. Frustration gnawed at him. He knew he needed to improve, but  didn''t know how.


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    As Van Volgunder walked out of Arthur''s office, the sky was   with the coming dawn. Even at this hour, the head of the Volgunder family and one of its most skilled swordsmen were already deep in discussion about matters of  a testament to their dedication and the family''s unwavering commitment.


    Van, a 4-star swordmaster and member of a distant branch family, was of medium height. His  long blue hair was subtly visible even in the dim  jagged scar ran from above his left eye to his right cheek, a stark reminder of battles past. His eyes held a gentle kindness, yet there was an underlying fierceness that some found unsettling.


    He was heading out of the estate when he noticed a lone figure in the training yard. As he  closer, he realized it was Arthur''s youngest son, Liam. But as Van, a seasoned swordmaster, watched Liam practice, he saw something… odd. It wasn''t a flaw in his technique, or a lack of strength. It was something deeper, something intangible that he couldn''t  explain. It was a feeling, a sense that there was more to Liam than meets the  Van could not name.


    "Trouble sleeping, lad?"


    Liam was startled, whirling around to face the voice. "Can''t sleep," Liam admitted, lowering his sword. "The tournament is in a few days, and I''m… not ready."


    Van chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Ready? Lad, you''ll never be ''ready.'' But you can be clever." He stepped forward, his eyes  in the dim light. "Tell me, what''s the  problem you face in a duel?"


    Liam hesitated. "I''m not strong enough. My technique is sloppy. Everyone is faster than me."


    Van nodded slowly. "True enough.  win with brute force. You need to use their strength against them." He stepped closer, adjusting Liam''s grip on the practice sword. "Here, try this." He demonstrated a simple strike, a seemingly weak thrust aimed at the opponent''s side. "The trick is in the timing. You let them come to you, then use their momentum to throw them off balance."


    Liam practiced the strike, his movements still awkward, but Van patiently corrected his form. "Think of it like water," Van said. "Flow around their attacks, then strike when they''re least expecting it."


    For the next hour, Van worked with Liam, refining the strike, showing him how to use his opponent''s weight and speed against them. Liam was surprised by how effective the technique was, even with his limited skills. It wasn''t a flashy move, but it was practical, efficient, and required more cunning than strength.


    "That''s just one trick, lad," Van said as the first rays of  through the windows. "But it''s a start. Remember, the Volgunder name isn''t just about strength. It''s about strategy, adaptability, and knowing how to turn your opponent''s advantages into weaknesses." Van paused, his  "I actually came here to speak with your family head about the upsurge from the barbaric leaders of the east that are out for blood with their raider  parties are attacking the border and having skirmishes with our men".


    Van clapped Liam on the shoulder. "Now, get some rest. You''ll need it. And tell your father I''m here to  with him about those problems." He turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Liam alone with his thoughts and a newfound sense of hope.


    After one word with the help of Van, maybe that will make  anyone. As he has  tools for the tournament and perhaps a way to show