<<<<Abigor and Viola's training session...Earlier that morning before even the servants rose.>>>>>
Viola stood there... In all of her ''glory''. The first strike created a visible crack in the dummy's torso area, the second broke half of its head, the third split it in half, vertically. With a bokken, and an ugly one handed, almost dismissive grip. I had already figured it out, years and years ago when I first saw her ''practice''.
Five minutes was all it took me, pathetic. And yet, beautiful? Ugh, I hate myself for even saying this, but whilst her swordplay is simple and pathetic, it is the most impressive display of raw power I ever saw. Even in the very fact that it is ugly, dismissive, and lacking of any actual discipline, it adds to it... Adds to the complete and utter despair of the enemy when he sees that his opponent isn't even trying to defeat him, and yet oh so completely overpowers all efforts done to trump the monstrous mountain that stands in their way.
In a way... Her swordplay is everything a true demon's should be...
I stood from my seat and without a word I found a practice sword. Walking over I faced her and readied a high guard stance, she looked at me with a smile, no need for words, she needed none as she swung down with full might. It was an ugly strike, but powerful. Head on I had no hope of meeting it, so I side stepped and let the blow slide off my sword. This left her open, the whole side of her, I approached with a quick strike.
She saw what I was doing though, and threw her body against mine, the shock of her strength sent me a few paces back, but I held my ground, found my balance, advanced again. Strike. Parry. Dodge. She blocks. She counters. She presses the offense. Every time we fight, I notice more and more that I fight like a human, not a demon. I'm sure she notices, I'm sure she laughs, and yet is it so bad? Admittedly a reflection like this shouldn't be crossing my mind as we trade blows, yet I cannot help but do so at each movement of this dance we are indulging in.
Demons and Angels are extremely similar in regards to martial prowess. Since we do not possess the same limitations that a human body has, we choose to absorb, create, generate and embody power. Strength, magnitude in magic, all of those in great magnitude, yet lacking in finesse. Human swordplay is refined, to every minute detail. They work with their limitations, train themselves to penetrate armor, to feign and to cut at the right moments to avoid harm on themselves while inflicting the most harm on their enemies. They compensate their lack of strength, by developing their skills.
The same can be said for their spells, they are complex, their patterns are difficult to learn, scientific, they make the most of their limited magic and are able to create designs so complex that while demons and angels wield magic ten times more powerful than that, cannot hope to understand the human creations. A glancing blow, if I had my head in the fight it would have hit her neck, she smiled once more, counter to the head, easy to avoid. I sidestep to the left, again I attack, this time I hit.
She smiles, amused. She continues, if I had steel on my hands I would have wounded her, but not killed. The fight continues. But as my musings continue to pass through my head I realize why I always reach the same conclusion in the end. Mortals need to compensate with skills because they do not possess the strength angelic and demonic creatures have. We do not need to create techniques of swordplay to penetrate armor, because with our combined might and magic we simply cut through it. We do not need to develop complex patterns to make the most of the mana we are able to draw for a spell, because we have no limitations on just how much mana we are able to truly draw. It is useless, demons, angels, only strength matters, and they all know that, they all embrace that, they are just that.
And that is why they are all pathetic. Simply unenlightened, stupid, simple. I struck her again, dodged her next strike, struck again, but a moment's carelessness she was able to strike me once on the shoulder. It hurt, that strike would have killed me, a single strike from her compared to five strikes from myself. Four strikes, one more and I would have won. Where I lack power compared to her, I have developed more technique than any demon or angel I have ever known.
I am Abigor, son of the General. They are pathetic, and I'll make it my mission to remind them of this fact at every turn.