Cameraman Never Dies

Judge finished the sumptuous meal of worrak steak that had a different flavor than normal because Lediya changed up the ingredients. The taste, however, did not disappoint him, it was extremely good, of course, worrak was hard to make a bad dish out of.

After the meal, it was almost time for his sword lessons. He sighed, he did not want to be knocked down today too, but there was no other choice. If he were to use enhanced cognition to get out of being knocked out, his instructor would definitely find out, he was not a stupid dragon.

As he was lost in thought, he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he sighed, going near the unlit fireplace, again... why do dragons need one anyway? As he grasped his sword, he pondered, as he often did, the sheer absurdity of a fireplace in a dragon's room. Did it hold symbolic warmth?

Sword instructor Dosav came in and was pleased to see Judge readily taking his sword from on top of the unlit fireplace. Why do dragons need a fireplace anyway? He thought, it was a thought that had crossed him every time he went into any room inside the palace.

Judge sighed and stood silently in front of his sword instructor, having no choice but to accept his fate. If I survive this session, I'll need a new spine. And maybe a new will to live. He thought to himself before getting teleported.

And the inevitable snap and teleport happened, but this time, they were back in the usual training ground instead of the underground one with all the walls enclosed and reinforced.

The breath of fresh air seemed to fill Judge with vitality, he felt like he was going to make it without even a scratch. Today was his day, and after this lesson was over, he was going to spend time lying on the grass and enjoying the sun. He lifted up his sword and attempted to block as instructor Dosav came in with a forward blow.

The next moment he knew, he was knocked out and had just opened his eyes. He was lying on a patch of grass under the sunlight.

Hey, at least I got what I wanted! He gave himself a self-deprecating laugh.

After realizing Judge had come to his senses, Dosav came to him and tapped his head lightly with the tip of the sheathed sword. "Get up Judge, we are nowhere near being done with today's lesson. And make sure your mind is clear of any interferences, taking that blow without blocking yourself clearly shows that your mind is elsewhere. If it continues, I will be forced to increase the difficulty of the lesson."

Increase? Difficulty? Judge quickly got on his feet and cleared his mind of any unnecessary thoughts. Normal kids may not know how much harder can a sword lesson get, but Judge had experience learning under Seraphis.

"Yes, that is a nice stance." Dosav smiled, but in a good and reassuring way. Judge was starting to get trauma from a smile, but he could feel the gentle sensation of an honest smile behind instructor Dosav.

Judge stood sideways, he extended his sword forward with his right hand, and his left hand was held back for balance.

The gentle smile on Dosav's face was quickly erased as he got ready to strike, Judge got ready too, no more distractions. He sighed and took a deep breath.

With a quick series of steps, Dosav's sword came down with a surprising speed. But Judge was prepared, he sidestepped, avoiding the heavy blow as it crashed into the ground, creating a loud noise. But there was no visible damage on the training floor.

But the sword was not the only thing he had to look after— with the support of his previous momentum and the sword's forward force, Dosav lifted his leg to strike Judge's head. Judge had just a small time to react, he raised his arms to block the blow.

Air-splitting noises could be heard as Judge's arms absorbed the shock from his instructor's kick.

Dosav twisted his body to jump over Judge and kick from the other side with his now free leg with the momentum he just made. But Judge had enough time to predict the next move, he quickly ducked and rolled back, getting up on his feet quickly once he got back.

Dosav lifted his sword again, he swung the sword in a wide arc toward Judge's chest, who turned his sword to show the flat side towards Dosav's sword and, with the help of his off hand at the base, redirected the blow upward.

With the instructor's sword in the air, he saw a small chance to land a blow. Confidence started to surge in him as he risked a quick forward swing to his instructor's abdomen.

In a split second, Dosav backstepped the swing and slipped his own blade toward Judge's torso, forcing him back. Judge scrambled, barely keeping his stance as he narrowly avoided another blow. Dosav, quick as ever, closed the distance, his strikes coming faster, sharper, and relentless in their precision. Judge struggled to keep up, his mind racing to track each angle, each faint movement that betrayed Dosav's next strike.

Judge barely blocked an upward swing, but his arms felt leaden from the force of the blow. Dosav didn't let up; he pressed his advantage, raining down a series of rapid, calculated strikes. Judge's defenses began to falter, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

Just as he was about to yield, Dosav's blade stopped an inch from Judge's throat. Judge's eyes widened as he realized how close he'd been to another knockdown.

"You've improved Judge, extremely so. Color me impressed!" Dosav complimented Judge as he put the sword back onto his belt.

"Your words are undeserving instructor, it's all thanks to your teaching," Judge said in a playful tone, as if he was forced to say it rather than being honest.

Instructor Dosav laughed at his witty remark, he did not get angry over how Judge said it. That was his persona in this household.