Michael awoke fresh and clear eyed the next day, and took a moment to heal his friends of sour stomachs and aching skulls without even leaving his bed. He made himself eat something before he made his way to the training yard. The squires and groundskeepers that maintained everything knew him now, and gave him friendly nods as he entered. He trained until the sun was up, then he was joined by a number of knights and guards. Shortly after that, Pyotr and Marcus arrived, fully armed and armored with their new titled items.“How long have you been up?” asked Marcus.“About three hours,” replied Michael, switching arms so that he could perform another thousand midline mace-strikes. He had just begun to break a sweat. As he performed one of his strikes, Pyotr’s beard actually shifted a bit from the wind of it.“Maybe I can help make things more interesting,” suggested Pyotr with a smile. “Care for a spar?”Michael nodded. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked.“I am hoping to show you a few new moves,” replied Pyotr with a smile.Michael nodded, and removed his armor, placing Rend and Ruin to the side. He took up a specially forged blunted metal sword that could withstand a heavily titled individuals striked better than a wooden one, and fresh shield and made his way to one of the sparring rings toward the center of the field. A few of the king’s personal guards broke from their exercises to watch.Pyotr had a blunted longsword in his own hand as well as a separate one slung through his belt. He was also wearing the scarf he’d gotten the previous day. Michael recalled him drawing his blade with it, as well as using it to pour wine the previous evening. He’d already begun referring to it as his ‘sixth limb’.Michael took his typical middle stance, while Pyotr took a fencer’s stance with his long sword aimed straight toward him.“Ready when you are,” said Michael, not focusing on Pyotr’s sword or even scarf, (...)