Caesar was well aware of the fact that Joe was afraid of his bloodline, the power that was hidden deep within him. Most of the unwarranted fear was presumably caused by his clansmen and family, who treated him like a monster. If enough people viewed someone in a particular way, then everyone else would follow in suit, including the person in question. Living in constant fear of himself resulted in the Joe of today, someone who wouldn't fight back, even if they were kicked around.
The anger in Joe's eyes gradually faded away as he stood up from the ground, dusting off his clothes in the process. "I thought you were going to train me, not turn me into a punching bag," Joe commented with a bitter smile. A small breeze fluttered his wild hair, showcasing the small trail of blood that escaped from the corner of his mouth.
Without much thought, Caesar crouched down and snatched a random twig off of the ground. It was relatively slender, standing at around two feet long. Since Joe was unable to use his lineage to his advantage comfortably, then Caesar could only train him in other areas. Swordsmanship and fighting techniques were the limits to his fighting capabilities.
A sigh escaped from Caesar's thin lips as he put both the branch and his foot forward, entering into a slightly loose fighting position. "Once you possess an adequate amount of confidence, you will have no qualms about entering your little berserk form. Until then, however, we will go over basic combat techniques."
Joe nodded his head with a solemn look and picked up his axe from the ground. He knew better than anyone else how hard it would be to get over his past trauma. The only times he had even entered into an enraged state was when the unspeakable was occurred, which was far and few between.
Once Joe was ready, Caesar began to train the stout dwarf. Due to his small size, it was much more efficient to temper Joe's strength, rather than speed. Thus, a short training session commenced. Caesar used his powerful eyes to determine where Joe's main weaknesses persisted, to which he then corrected them to the best of his abilities.
Even in comparison to an average dwarf, Joe was extremely slow and unfit. His beer belly slowed him down, and sweat started to trickle down his forehead at an appalling rate. Caesar merely struck at Joe with the stick every now and then, and even that was a bit too much physical exertion for the out-of-shape dwarf.
The breeze shifted the blades of grass and blanketed the ground in fallen pine. Only the sound of birds chirping, and a stick striking against skin rang out. The white stallions laid on the beautiful land and scoffed at Joe as they elegantly neighed into the air. Even the black cat was observing both Caesar's and Joe's training session with unmatched curiosity, resting on the back of one of the horses.
On the other hand, Joe was extremely sore and regretted his decision to spar with Caesar. The muscles that which he had ignored in the past were coming back to haunt him. Every time he opened his lips to ask for mercy, Caesar quickened his onslaught and said a few words of consolation.
"Defend here, be quicker, attack from the left in this scenario, move your feet more, take a step back, start evading, etcetera" all sorts of instruction were drilled into Joe as he subconsciously blocked the slender branch. Although changing habits within a day was not possible, it was better to start training until you collapsed, or so Caesar's twisted mind thought.
Like this, they continued for another hour until Joe collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath. The break of dawn had disappeared, and the afternoon sun was blazing brightly. Caesar stretched his limbs and whistled a melodious tune while draping Joe over his shoulders.
A strange smile formed on his lips as he subtly cut into Joe's neck with his long fingernails, causing an indiscernible drop of blood to fall from the dwarven cervix. Caesar caught the droplet of blood onto his index finger and brought it to his mouth, tasting the "legendary," berserker blood.
It entered his mouth and trailed down his throat. It felt warm, different from normal blood. Caesar's brows furrowed at the unpalatable flavor, it was worse than anything he had ever tasted before. A meager drop was revolting enough to make him want to vomit, causing him to glance over at Joe's face with disgust.
'What the hell does this guy eat and drink to cause his blood to become so disgusting?' He thought inwardly, his affable mood disappearing within a matter of seconds. Contrary to his expectations, Berserker blood was absolutely repugnant. Any and all thoughts of becoming stronger with it was washed away by Caesar as he threw the unconscious Joe into the carriage.
He then jumped onto the carriage and pulled the reigns, ordering the horses to stand up and start moving. The black cat hopped onto Caesar's shoulders as the carriage began to move, coursing through the wind.
The wooden wheels clanked loudly along the dirt road as it slowly passed over the grassy hill, heading into the horizon. Caesar rested his cheek in the palms of his hands as he lazily led the horses back to Rahvin kingdom. The journey wouldn't take too long, but Caesar needed to get back as soon as possible.
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As such, the peaceful days passed quite serene. Caesar and Joe would exercise and spar with each other in the morning, and the horses would travel throughout the afternoon and night. This efficiency resulted in them in reaching the farmlands on the outskirts of Rahvin kingdom ahead of time.
The steads slowed down as they passed by the rich farmlands. The glistering moon welcomed the royal carriage with open arms. Caesar had finally returned, but he was not without his own detriment and merits. Upcoming wars and trade were just around the corner, and the populace is not going to like it.