Investing In My Crippled Wife Every Return Makes Me Stronger Chapter 13

[ … words ]

’Should I… try my luck?’

He hesitated.

Slimes.

He knew about slimes. A lot, actually. They were one of the weakest monsters in existence. Well, most of them. And they were recommended for beginners like him. They had low threat level, slow movement, and predictable attack patterns.

It was a perfect first Gate, in theory.

But…

Soren’s jaw tightened.

’I don’t know how to fight. Not really.’

Sure, he’d thrown punches before. Street scuffles. Schoolyard fights when he was younger. He knew the basics of brawling with humans.

But monsters?

He’d fought one monster in his life. The assassin last night.

And he’d barely survived.

That fight had been messy, desperate, instinct-driven. He’d crashed into the attacker with pure momentum and gotten lucky. If the assassin had been even slightly more prepared, Soren would be dead.

’I can’t rely on luck in a Gate.’

Gates were enclosed spaces. There was no escape and no running away if things went wrong.

If he went in unprepared and underestimated the situation, he’d die. Simple as that.

Soren exhaled slowly and closed the Gate listing.

’Let’s not do it yet. I need to learn how to fight properly first.’

He navigated to a different section of the Hunter Network.

[Training Facilities]

The list loaded. Dozens of options appeared, gyms and dojos scattered throughout Kalmira, each specializing in different combat styles.

Hand-to-hand. Swordsmanship. Archery. Spear arts. Axe work. Mixed combat.

Soren scrolled through them, reading descriptions.

’I need a weapon that I can learn quickly.’

His thoughts drifted to the Ice Emperor’s Legacy. The First Star technique, Frost Palm Strike, was a close-range technique. It was powerful, but he’d need proper combat fundamentals to use it effectively.

More importantly, he needed something practical. Something he could use right now.

’What about… a spear.’

Spears were beginner-friendly. Simple mechanics. Keep a distance. Thrust. Defend. Effective even without advanced technique.

He filtered the search.

[Spear Training – Beginner Level]

Several facilities appeared. He checked their ratings, locations, and prices.

One caught his eye.

__________________

[Iron Reach Dojo]

Location: Steelheart District

Specialty: Spear Combat (Beginner to Advanced)

Instructor: Marcus Varn (Third Circle, 15 years of experience)

Price: 500 Credits per session (2.5 hours) | 5000-10000 monthly subscriptions

Rating: 4.7/5 (182 reviews)

__________________

Soren checked the time.

3:32 PM.

Clara’s shift ended at 7 PM.

That gave him three and a half hours.

Three hours to train if he left now.

’Perfect.’

He tapped the booking option and reserved a session starting at 4 PM.

[Booking Confirmed]

[Session: Beginner Spear Combat]

[Time: 5:00 PM – 7:30 PM]

[Payment: 500 Credits]

Soren stood from the bench outside the Bureau and pocketed his phone. He raised his hand and hailed a taxi. A sleek black vehicle pulled over almost immediately. The door slid open automatically.

“Where to?” the driver asked, glancing back.

“Steelheart District. Iron Reach Dojo.”

“Got it. We will be there in fifteen minutes.”

Soren climbed in, and the taxi pulled away from the curb.

He leaned back against the seat, watching the city pass by through the window.

Merchant’s Crown district gave way to Industrial zones, then residential blocks, then finally the training district, where most combat facilities clustered.

The taxi stopped in front of a sturdy building made of dark stone and reinforced steel. A sign hung above the entrance.

[IRON REACH DOJO]

[Spear Combat Specialists]

Soren paid the fare and stepped out.

The building looked simple and ordinary, with no flashy signs, which he liked a little. Then, he pushed through the front door.

The interior was spacious. High ceilings. Polished wooden floors. Training dummies lined one wall. Weapon racks held various spears, staffs, and polearms. A few students were already training in the back, their movements sharp and controlled.

A receptionist at the front desk looked up. “Name?”

“Soren Valmere. I have a session at 5 PM.”

She checked her screen. “Confirmed. Beginner spear combat with Instructor Varn. He’ll be with you shortly. You can wait in the prep area.”

“Thank you.”

Soren moved to the side and sat on a bench.

He watched the students training. Their footwork was clean. Their strikes were precise. Their breathing was controlled.

’This is what real combat training looks like.’

He watched silently, trying to learn a thing or two.

However, he didn’t understand their moves that much.

’…It’s harder than I thought.’ He smiled bitterly. But then again, how could it be so easy? Learning would take time and practice. Well, unless you were a genius.

A few minutes later, a man approached.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, probably in his late thirties. His hair was cropped short, and a jagged scar ran down the left side of his face. He wore simple training gear and carried a wooden practice spear.

“Soren Valmere?” His voice was gruff but not unfriendly.

“Yes.”

“I’m Marcus Varn. Your instructor for today.” He studied Soren briefly. “First time with a spear?”

“Yes.”

“First time in a Gate?”

“Not yet. Planning one soon.”

Marcus nodded. “Smart. Learning before diving in. You’d be surprised how many idiots skip this step and get themselves killed.”

He then gestured toward the training floor. “Come on. Let’s see what you can do.”

Soren stood and followed him.

“First, change into the training uniform. Locker room’s through that door.”

Marcus pointed to a side entrance.

Soren nodded and went inside. He changed quickly and returned to the training floor.

Marcus then led Soren to a sectioned-off training room. Padded mats covered the floor. Mirrors lined one wall. Practice spears stood in a rack near the corner.

Marcus grabbed two wooden spears and tossed one to Soren.

Soren caught it awkwardly.

“Before we start,” Marcus said, crossing his arms. “Answer a few questions.”

He didn’t wait for a nod. The questions came in a relentless barrage, each one designed to poke at Soren’s lack of experience.

Have you fought before? Any training? Martial arts? Self-defense? Ever held a weapon? Why choose spear? Planning to enter Gates soon? What made you register as a Hunter? Etc…

Soren answered each time honestly.

When he finished, Marcus studied him, expression unreadable.

Then he frowned slightly. “You said you awakened yesterday?”

“Mmm.”

“I see.” Marcus nodded slowly, thinking, no wonder Soren was no different from an ordinary, average man. “Then everything makes sense.”

He gestured toward the center of the room.

“Alright. Let’s start.”

Soren moved to where Marcus indicated.

“Alright, first things first,” Marcus said, gesturing to the weapon. “Show me how you’d hold it. Just do what feels right.”

Soren gripped the shaft with both hands near the middle, trying to find a balance point.

Marcus circled him, his eyes tracking Soren’s hands. “Not a bad instinct, honestly, but it’s wrong. You’re holding it like a staff, Soren. You’re not a monk.”

He stepped in and nudged Soren’s rear hand down toward the butt of the spear. “Keep this one at the base. This is your engine. All your power starts here.”

Then he adjusted Soren’s lead hand, sliding it higher up. “This one? This is just for the steering. It guides the point. Directs the thrust. Feel the weight shift?”

Soren adjusted his fingers, the wood grain biting into his palms. The balance was awkward, but the spear felt anchored.

“Better. Now, let’s look at your feet. You’re standing like a statue.”

Marcus dropped into a stance, his knees slightly bent and his torso bladed. “Never face a guy head-on. You aren’t a wall. Turn your body—make yourself a smaller target so there’s less of you to hit.”

Soren mirrored him, shifting his weight.

“Keep your back foot anchored and the front one ready to move. Think sixty-forty weight distribution—keep most of it on that back leg. You with me?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

The next hour dissolved into a blur of repetition.

Thrust. Reset. Thrust. Reset.

“Relax your shoulders, kid. You’re fighting the spear, not the enemy.”

Thrust. Reset.

“Now add the feet. Step into the kill, step back for the recovery. Keep it fluid.”

Thrust. Step. Withdraw. Step back.

“Keep your eyes on the imaginary chest in front of you. Stop looking at your own hands; they aren’t going anywhere.”

Soren’s forearms began to scream. His quads burned, and a bead of sweat stung his eye, but Marcus didn’t offer a break. They cycled through defensive angles and basic footwork patterns until Soren’s movements became more muscle memory than conscious thought.

“That’s enough,” Marcus finally called out, raising a hand.

Soren let the spear tip drop to the mat, his lungs heaving.

Marcus watched him for a moment, wiping his own hands on a towel. “You’ve got a good head for this. You pick up the mechanics faster than most.”

Soren wiped his brow. “But?”

“But knowing it and doing it under pressure are two different worlds. Your brain gets it, but your body is still clueless. But don’t worry, that changes with enough time and practice.”

Marcus leaned his own spear against the rack. “Come back for five or six more sessions. By the end of that, you’ll be able to hold your own. You won’t be a master, but you might actually survive your first scrap.”

Soren nodded, his voice a bit raspy. “I’ll be here. Thank you.”

“And do me a favor,” Marcus added, pointing a finger at him. “Stay out of the Gates until we’ve done at least three more of these. Don’t go getting yourself killed before the check clears.”

“Understood.”

Marcus gave him a firm clap on the shoulder. “You’ve got potential, Soren. Just don’t waste it by being impatient.”

By the time Soren changed and stepped out of the dojo, the sky had bruised into a deep purple. The orange hum of the streetlights reflected off the damp pavement.

He checked his phone: 7:38 PM.

Clara would be finishing up soon.

He hailed a taxi, leaning his aching back against the seat as the city blurred past.

’Today was… exhausting.’