'Again!' my master shouted at me, raising his own sword. To be honest, I was tired and not in the best of moods - for the last two hours we've been doing the same thing, over and over again. He would attack, I would try to parry. And failed in most cases. Thankfully, our swords were wooden, but they hurt nonetheless - a nasty blood-red bump on my forehead being the proof of it.
I knew that there was more pain in store for me. And I had only myself to blame. Master Giaccomo was known for his ruthless methods of teaching. He was also very opposed to taking in a new student. But I begged and begged, and finally he caved in. So now I simply had to learn how to deflect his attacks. Or slowly, but surely be turned into a bloody pulp.