After watching Amicus undergo another vigorous wrestling duel with Cato, you decide to stay put at the training grounds.

You watched Amicus leave with Cato. Cato walked with a tall posture—his hands formally locked behind his back together. Meanwhile, Amicus was glancing back at you with a worried and exhausted look. Originally, you imagined that Cato was just plain strict and quiet—your typical old man with a grumpy attitude. Now, you've seen just how aggressive and violent he can become while retaining a quiet demeanor.

After both of them fully leave, you grab a Bo Staff and begin to (pathetically) swing at the training dummies that were visibly run down and abused. An hour goes by and before you knew it—sunset had arrived.

At some point, you turn around and suddenly—there he was. Cato was standing by the weapon rack, observing you with purpose.

His gaze was cold and unmoving. Of course, it felt that way because his helmet didn't reveal the true emotion of his eyes.

Was his judging you? Or was he about to give you tips on how to perfect your technique. You don't know.