THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 24: Chapter 24: VITAL

The game was slowed down a bit without Kaka, but even so, class 4E was still the strongest class, and they still won. Sagiri had never seen a childhood game played with so much vigor. Even so, the next class could be on the basics of weapon handling. The dagger training grounds sat on the outer nonagon, a circular yard of packed earth and wooden racks lined with straw human-shaped dummies. The air smelled of earth and steel. Sagiri arrived on time, having left before the team training class ended. Instructor Rana stood waiting under the shade of the weapons shed. He was the shortest of the instructors, but thick-shouldered. He was the best with daggers, and at his height, stabbing and slicing a taller opponent gave him an advantage. Sagiri moved and stopped right in front of the man who was almost the same height as him. His hair was tied to the back of his head before it was pulled into a braided bun. He tossed Sagiri a short dagger with Black hilt. It was already unsheathed, and it lacked any sharpness. It was just a blunt training blade. Cold metal.

”Fourth-year cadets start with dual knives handling,” Bekuro Dalimba said, ”but you? You will start from the very basics.” Sagiri nodded, gripping the dagger and wrapping his hand on it like you would a knife when cutting a fruit.

”Wrong,” Bekuro Dalimba snapped instantly. He stepped behind Sagiri and adjusted his fingers one by one. Until the dagger was facing backwards, the blade hidden behind his arm, aligning it perfectly with the forearm, with only the tip showing, ”You have to hold it with your whole hand, lock your hand around the hilt, and make sure it is aligned with the forearm. A dagger is not a toy. It is an extension of your intent.”

Sagiri swallowed. ”Yes.”

”Now sink low and stay in a horse stance with your lower left leg forward and your left hand open in front of you. Then move with your right leg, which is holding the dagger, and simultaneously move the hand wielding the dagger to form a perfect elbow, and your dagger will naturally face forward in a slashing and stabbing motion.” He demonstrated two more times in clean and sharp movements before turning around to face Sagiri.

”Show me your stance.” Sagiri widened his legs awkwardly, dropping his shoulders, mimicking the instructor’s stance.

”One thing worse than a weak fighter,” Instructor Bekuro Dalimba muttered, watching him make an awkward stance, ”is a clumsy one.” He kicked Sagiri’s right heel inward. Pulled his left arm close. Pressed his shoulder down.

”Listen carefully, Recruit. There are three primary dagger stances. You will memorize them before the hour ends .”

He moved to the front and demonstrated. ” The first is the guarded stance, your feet and shoulders should be at the same width. The hand holding your knife should be close to your heart in this stance. This is used for defense, unlike the one I just showed you, which is for attacking.” He raised his blade vertically, elbow tucked, body tight. ”Remember to breathe regularly. Holding your breath will only make you breathless in a real fight.” Sagiri mirrored him, breaths shallow and controlled. He repeated the stance half a dozen times before Instructor Bekuro started explaining the next stance.

”The second stance is called the forward stance. It is almost like the first one I showed you, but now, while advancing.” Instructor Bekuro stepped sharply forward, blade pointing outward like a spear. ”This one is for advancing. It requires balance, your front leg should carry ninety percent of your weight with your heel pushed in to add momentum to the front leg for maximum damage when you stab.” He tapped Sagiri’s knee until Sagiri bent into the correct posture.

”Good. This is the stance for silent moving and killing.”

Without warning, Instructor Bekuro flipped the dagger downward, blade pointing from the bottom of his fist, and directly pointed it at Sagiri’s throat. He had barely seen the man move, and if this was a real fight, he could without a doubt be dead.

”This is the reverse grip stance,” he explained, ”it is the best in close combat for close killing.” Sagiri felt cold running down his back. Rana’s voice was level when he continued. ”You use reverse when your target is too close to miss. it is the best for slashing arteries, piercing kidneys, or sometimes ending what is already dying.” He demonstrated a few times before asking Sagiri to mimic the grip.

Sagiri repeated the three stances till his shoulders and arms ached. He collected his stances now and then until he was satisfied before he led him to the row of straw human forms scattered across the circular clearing. They were shaped crudely but marked with red paint over the neck, ribs, stomach, and back to show vital points.

”The areas marked with red paint are the Vital points of the human body,” Instructor Bekuro echoed what Sagiri was already thinking. ”Learn them and memorize them all like the back of your hand. If possible, mark them on your own body because a successful attack depends on them. It won’t matter how fast and strong you are, if you miss the opponent’s vital points, you will be the one dead.” He pointed at the throat. ”One cut here and the windpipe collapses.” Then he pointed at the collarbone. ”Slide the blade under this bone, and the whole arm is rendered useless. It ends its strength immediately.” His finger chapped in between where the drawn, straw ribs outline was. ”Between the third and fourth rib lies the heart. One stab here and the opponent is dead. He circled the straw, and Sagiri followed. Two marks glared on the lower back. ”Here are the Kidneys. One accurate stub and they collapse.”

”Next is the inner thigh. I don’t advise you to go for this point with a stronger opponent, but if you get a hit, then they bleed out in seconds.” Sagiri stared at the red marks, carefully. Rusha had tried to teach him about medicine and where the veins were situated in the human body in case he wanted to save a patient’s life. Yet here he was learning how to take a life. He was conversant with parts of the human body from Rusha. Sagiri was still lost in thought when Instructor Bekuro shoved a training dagger into his hand.

”Stab.” Sagiri hesitated. Instructor Bekuro’s tone sharpened. ”This is not murder. This is survival, kill or be killed. Imagine an enemy in front of you.” Sagiri inhaled once, braced himself, stepped into the forward stance, and struck. All he could imagine was his faceless benefactor. The dagger punched into the straw chest with a dry crunch. His arms shivered from the impact, but he kept his grip. The straws were surprisingly thick. Rana nodded once.

”Again in the three stances I just taught you.” Sagiri pulled the blade free and stabbed the rib mark.

”Again.”

Throat.

”Again.”

Kidney.

Sweat dripped down Sagiri’s face. His arms burned. His breath trembled. But he kept going: stab, pull, step back. Stab, pull, pivot. Stab, slash, retreat.

”Good,” Instructor Bekuro finally said. He grabbed Sagiri’s chin and forced him to look up. ”But you’re holding back.”

Sagiri blinked. ”I...”

”No excuses. You still have some fear of hurting someone. That fear must die before the year ends.” Instructor Bekuro shoved him toward another dummy.

”This time,” he said quietly, ”stab as if the dummy wants to take your life. I want to see intent in your movements.” Sagiri lifted the blade. His breathing steadied. He stepped in and closed his eyes to catch his breath before he struck. This time, the strike was clean, sharp, decisive. The straw dummy jolted from the force. The power inside him had stirred a potion of killing intent leaking through to him. He gasped and staggered back. He must have gotten so carried away, he forgot to keep it in check. Instructor Bekuro didn’t smile, but he didn’t correct him either for staggering back.

”Good,” he said. ”Now practice the sequence. Throat. Heart. Kidney. Retreat.”Sagiri obeyed.

By the end of the second hour, Sagiri’s hands shook. His shoulders ached. His breath tasted like iron. Instructor Bekuro had not asked him to stop, just watching and nodding now and then or shaking his head. When he messed up even a step, Instructor Bekuro stood behind him and corrected the smallest error in his steps.

”Center your weight.”

”Don’t raise your elbow.”

”Too slow.”

”Rotate the wrist.”

”Recover faster.”

”Good...again,” was all he kept repeating as sweat poured down Sagiri’s face. He was lucky he didn’t participate in instructor Lakiya’s class because then he could have not made it throw basic weapon handling techniques. Even so, Sagiri felt half-dead, but something else burned inside him, a stubborn spark. A refusal to fall behind. When the final bell rang, Instructor Bekuro finally stepped back.

”You’re inexperienced,” he said, ”but you learn fast.” He nodded once again in approval. That was the closest thing to praise Sagiri had received since he got into the Galka War Academy.

”Recruit dismisses!” He said before heading back into the inner nonagon. Sagiri followed slowly, breathing wheezing. It was still the first day and a lot had happened that he felt like he had been in Galka War Academy for months.