Once he'd finished getting ready, he quickly went down to the Order's main hall, where Nerris was already chatting with the mercenaries on hand. He decided not to disturb her and went out immediately.

The fresh morning air almost surprised him, a light breeze caressing his face still marked by the previous day's fatigue. The town of Grimpoint seemed to be slowly waking up, with its alleyways still partly deserted and a few shopkeepers setting up their stalls.

Sora took a deep breath. Today, he intended to equip himself properly so that he would no longer look shabby. His first objective: to find a clothing store suited to his mercenary needs.

After a few minutes' walk, he spotted a wooden sign suspended by chains, on which was engraved an intertwined needle and sword. "The Grimpoint weaver", he read in a low voice.

He pushed open the store door, a bell signaling his arrival. Inside, a mixture of new fabric and leather smells wafted through the air. A woman of a certain age, her grey hair neatly tied back, looked up from her work.

"Welcome, young man. What can I do for you?" she asked warmly.

Sora hesitated for a moment, looking around. Simple clothes rubbed shoulders with more sophisticated outfits, light leather armor and even reinforced capes. "I'm looking for some clothes. Finally... something practical and... affordable."

The woman squinted her eyes with an amused smile. "You mean: something that doesn't make you look like you've just come out of battle?"

Sora scratched his head, embarrassed. "Yes... That's about it."

She nodded and stood up, inviting him to follow her to a shelf where reinforced linen shirts and thick pants were laid out, perfect for novice mercenaries.

"Try these on," she said, handing him a dark, sturdy set. "The fabric is reinforced, it provides minimal protection against light cuts, and it's flexible enough to let you move around easily."

Sora went into a small cabin to try on the outfit. When he emerged, he already felt different. The garment seemed to fit well, and he had rarely felt so comfortable.

"It looks good on you," the woman commented with a satisfied smile. "And that's not all. I've got a reinforced leather coat here that will complement this ensemble perfectly."

Sora looked at the coat she was handing him. It was black, with elegant stitching, and seemed to offer extra protection. He hesitated when he saw the price tag: 300 ecus.

"It's an investment," the saleswoman added, guessing his hesitation. "But believe me, if you embark on dangerous adventures, you won't regret this purchase."

After a brief reflection, Sora finally agreed. "Very well, I'll take the whole lot."

The saleswoman looked at him with a big, pleasant smile and placed the coat on a counter in front of her before addressing Sora again, "Would you like me to collect your old clothes?"

Sora hesitated for a few moments as he saw his old high school outfit. "No, but if possible, I'd like you to repair them."

The woman looked briefly at the clothes in a catastrophic state laid out in front of her and scratched her head, betraying a slight embarrassment. "I'm not sure I'll be able to get them back to you as good as new, but I'll do my best."

"Great, thank you very much." replied Sora, a smile on his face. But at that moment, a question sprang to mind. "What about the price?"

"For the repairs, we'll see when I've finished fixing them. And for the rest, it'll be 800 ecus, please," announced the saleswoman after quickly calculating the price of each item.

Realizing the hefty price tag, Sora found it almost hard to get that much money out of his purse, but he knew it was for a good reason, so that eased his discouragement a little. Sora handed over the 800 ecus with a touch of regret, but consoled himself by telling himself that he was finally going to look like a real mercenary. Once the transaction was complete, the saleswoman carefully wrapped up his old clothes and set them aside.

"Good luck, young man", she greeted him as he left the store.

Outside, the sun had risen a little higher, illuminating the now bustling streets of Grimpoint. The stalls were teeming with customers and the merchants were shouting their wares. Sora pulled back the collar of his leather coat and walked proudly through the crowd, feeling almost invincible in his new clothes.

But this satisfaction was soon overshadowed by a detail that came back to him: his morning training session with Jarek.

He quickened his pace, heading for the training ground on the outskirts of Grimpoint, where experienced mercenaries like Jarek preferred to practice away from curious onlookers. The mere thought of him raised a strange tension in her mind. "Is he going to make me eat dust again? Or surprise me with some absurd exercise?"

Arriving at the training ground, Sora immediately noticed the relaxed figure of Jarek, leaning against the wooden fence, his mischievous smile already hanging on his lips. He was absent-mindedly playing with a dagger that he effortlessly threw and caught.

"Well, look who decided to come dressed as a real mercenary," Jarek challenged, staring at Sora's brand-new coat.

Sora stopped a few steps away, trying to mask his breathlessness. "It's about time I stopped looking like a lost tourist."

Jarek burst out laughing, sheathing his dagger. "Not bad. Now let's see if you're as impressive as your new clothes."

He straightened up and tossed him a practice sword, which Sora caught awkwardly.

"Today, your training will be divided into two parts," Jarek announced, stretching. "The first, hand-to-hand sword training, and the second part... We'll see about that later."

Sora frowned slightly. The mere mention of a second part, left in the dark, was enough to arouse in him a mistrust tinged with curiosity. He gripped the hilt of his training sword and assumed a rough posture, well aware of his shortcomings.

Jarek looked at him for a moment, a smirk on his face, before stepping forward gently, sword nonchalantly resting on his shoulder. "First lesson: if you want to appear threatening, start by adjusting your guard."

Sora raised an eyebrow, visibly offended. "Is it that bad? Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"Bad? No, it's... adorable," Jarek replied with a burst of laughter. "And I didn't tell you yesterday because I just didn't feel like it. Yesterday was your baptism of fire, so I only wanted to have fun and make a fool of you, nothing more." he continued, still a haughty smile hanging on his face. "Come on, straighten up. Spread your feet a little wider, bend your knees and keep your weapon in front of you, ready to strike or parry."

Touched by yet another disparaging remark, Sora reluctantly complied, correcting his posture under Jarek's expert but mocking eye. Once satisfied, the latter twirled his training sword and in turn adopted a much more relaxed guard.

"Good, now attack me. Show me what you can do."

Sora nodded, taking a deep breath before launching himself. He attempted a swift strike, aiming for Jarek's shoulder, but Jarek dodged effortlessly, as if the move were predictable from a mile away.

"Too rigid, too obvious," commented Jarek. "Try varying your angles of attack. And stop aiming where you think you can hit me easily. Aim where you can throw me off balance."

Sora stepped back, trying to digest the advice while resuming a defensive posture. This time, he attempted a feint, miming a strike to the flank before pivoting to aim for the leg. But Jarek, with disconcerting ease, parried the blow with a precise gesture.

"Not bad," he conceded, taking a step back. "But still too slow. In a real fight, you'd already be down."

The exchanges continued, Sora putting all his energy into every blow, every attempt to surprise his opponent. Yet Jarek always seemed to be one step ahead, dodging or parrying with disconcerting fluidity.

After fifteen minutes or so, Sora was panting, arms heavy and legs trembling.

"You tire fast," remarked Jarek as he stuck his sword into the ground. "It's not just a question of strength or technique. If you don't manage your endurance, even the best warrior eventually falls. Right, let's change the exercise a bit, now it's time for the dummies."

Jarek moved towards a series of wooden training dummies set up a little further away. They were crudely carved, some covered with deep marks testifying to numerous past training sessions. One of the dummies even had its head half torn off, which made Sora wince.

"Is this the second part of the training?" Sora asked as she approached the models.

"No, not really. Let's say it's part 1.5." Jarek replied, arranging the dummies next to each other to form a circle.

"So, what do I do?" asked Sora, intrigued.

Jarek pointed a finger at one of the mannequins. "Imagine they're alive. They move, they dodge. Your aim is not to destroy them, but to immobilize them. Find the weak points and attack intelligently."

"It's ridiculously simple." thought Sora, examining the various dummies placed all around him.

Jarek burst out laughing at Sora's expression. "You seem to think it's too simple. Tell you what, I'll make it a little harder for you." He picked up an old hourglass lying near the mannequins and flipped it over with a quick gesture. "You've got three minutes. Stop them all before the sand runs out."

Sora gritted his teeth and nodded. He knew that with Jarek, nothing was as simple as it seemed. He tightened his grip on his training sword and got into position.

"Ready?" asked Jarek, a smirk on his face.

"Always."

"Then go for it!"

Sora leapt towards the first dummy, aiming for a simulated joint at the shoulder. His sword struck the wood with a thud, but the impact lacked precision, and the dummy remained standing.

"Too much brute force, not enough precision!" threw Jarek, arms crossed.

Sora grunted and moved on, this time aiming directly at the knees. He struck with more care, managing to unbalance the dummy, which wobbled slightly. Encouraged, he continued, methodically hitting the weak points of each target.

Halfway through, however, he felt his breathing get shorter. His arms were already burning, and the hourglass was a cruel reminder that time was against him.

Time seemed to be crumbling away as quickly as the sand in the hourglass. Sora swung from one dummy to the next, striking with all the precision and strength he could muster. But despite his best efforts, the task was proving far more arduous than he had anticipated.

He thrust his sword into the leg of one of the dummies to bring it down, but the solid wood resisted, merely trembling slightly under the impact. Sora grunted, moving immediately to another. He aimed for the joints, hoping to quickly unbalance his target. His blow, though better adjusted, still lacked power.

Behind him, Jarek watched with an amused smile, his arms crossed. "You're wearing yourself out too fast, kid. You're spreading yourself too thin. Look at them as a group, not as individual targets."

"Easy for you to say!" retorted Sora between gasps. He turned to strike a dummy close to him, aiming at a precise point at waist level. This time, the dummy wobbled and fell to the ground with a thud.

Seven remained.

The grains of sand flowed mercilessly, and Sora began to feel his arms protest violently. Sweat trickled down his forehead, blurring his vision slightly. But he refused to stop. He brought his sword down on another dummy, aiming for a weak spot in the neck. The blow sent a small splinter of wood flying, but the dummy remained standing.

"Concentrate your strength", Jarek challenged, his tone mocking. "You strike like you just want to tickle them."

Sora gritted his teeth and took a step back, taking a deep breath to calm his jerky breathing. He tried to follow Jarek's advice and visualized the dummies as a group to be strategically confronted. He lunged, aiming at a different angle, striking with a broad sweep that hit two dummies close together. The first tilted slightly, while the second lost its balance and fell.

Five remained.

But the hourglass was not working in his favor. The sand was running out inexorably, and every second seemed to weigh a little heavier on her shoulders.

Sora spun around to attack another dummy. He attempted a feint, miming a blow to the head before pivoting to aim for the knees. The blow was successful, making the target wobble. But the sweeping movement caused him to lose his balance, and he nearly stumbled.

"Now that's interesting," commented Jarek with a burst of laughter. "You're starting to think. "But thinking without control is useless."

Sora ignored the remark, striking a fourth dummy at base level. He put all his strength into the blow, and the target finally collapsed. Yet his body couldn't keep up. His breath was short, and his arms trembled under the weight of the training sword.

Four more to go.

The last grain of sand ran out.

Sora stopped, his heart beating wildly. His sword fell to the ground with a thud, and he put his hands on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. In front of him, four mannequins stood proudly, like a silent reminder of his failure.

Jarek walked quietly over to them, picking up the training sword with a casual gesture. He twirled the blade in his hands before stabbing it into the ground beside Sora.

"There we are. Time's up," he declared in a detached tone. "Result: failure."

Sora raised his head, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I could have succeeded if I'd had a little more time," he said, his voice hoarse.

Jarek burst out laughing, shaking his head. "More time? That's a typical beginner's excuse. In a real fight, do you think your enemies will kindly wait for you to take your time?" He tapped lightly on Sora's shoulder, who winced from the pain. "But hey, I'll be honest: you did better than I expected."

Sora raised his head in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Yes. You showed adaptability, even if your technique still leaves a lot to be desired. But above all..." Jarek approached the last dummy and touched its base, where a clear mark testified to Sora's last strike. "You're a fast learner. That's promising."

Despite his fatigue, Sora felt a faint smile tug at his lips. It was a rare compliment from Jarek, and it gave him a glimmer of hope.

"But don't get too big-headed, eh," Jarek quickly added, his mocking tone taking over again. "If this were a real fight, how many times would you have been hit, do you think? In my opinion, you could have immobilized just one before getting killed... Maybe you'd even have died before touching one, who knows."

Sora rolled his eyes, but couldn't help letting out a small laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."

"Anyway, no need to make a big deal of it either," Jarek replied, lightly patting Sora's shoulder. "In any case, let's move on to the second part of the training."

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