Re: Blood and Iron

Chapter 889: Forged From Iron

Bruno stood inside his palace’s private gymnasium. His hands were wrapped in far more modern boxing gloves than he had worn in decades past.

Each punch thrown was designed with absolute intent. Jab, jab cross, elbow, jab, cross body kick.

He moved lightly despite his age, always on the balls of his feet. He planted only to strike, hips rotating through each impact before pivoting away.

His son Erwin held the bag in place, lest after a single kick it would sway so wildly Bruno would need to reset it.

Erwin could feel the pressure despite hanging behind the heavy bag, which stood nearly as tall as himself. His father was throwing with the speed and power of a man a decade younger, perhaps even two decades younger.

Bruno, however did not cease his assault. Continuing to exhale beneath each strike, every punch loading up the next shot, action and reaction. Thesis and antithesis. A full five minutes passed before the buzzer rang, and Bruno halted his attack.

Stripping off his gloves, he jumped down onto the floor and began performing pushups, situps, and sprawls for the next minute.

Once the “cooldown” period was over, Bruno handed the gloves to his son and smirked.

“Come now, Erwin. You know the rules. Five-five minute rounds each, don’t tell me you can’t keep up with an old man? ”

Erwin fastened the gloves around his hands and took his stance. His knuckles hanging just below his eyes, his hips more squared than not, but his feet almost paradoxically mobile. Just as his father had done moments before.

“You’re insane, you know that? How many men of your age are capable of performing such a workout without their hearts giving out?”

Erwin then began to tee off on the bag just as his father had done moments before. Biting into his mouth guard as he laid into its center of mass, almost as if he were channeling every fiber of his strength and momentum into the rotation of his hips and the snap of his punches.

Bruno grabbed a nearby bottle of iced water and began to rehydrate himself after his third round of non-stop aggression.

“You’ll be thanking me when you’re my age. If you can keep this up as part of your daily routine, you’ll look as young as I do when you’re my age.”

Erwin scoffed. He didn’t need his father to tell him that. Though their family was blessed on both sides with good genes in regard to aging. They also lived a very healthy lifestyle. Whether it was the food, the exercise, or the access to the Reich’s best medicine and physical therapy. The House von Zehntner defied age in ways that other human beings could only envy.

As Bruno grew older, he had long ago noticed that his earlier indulgences in tobacco and drink had aged him faster than Heidi. He still looked younger than his years; but she seemed almost untouched by time.

Had she chosen to dye the silver from her hair, one might have mistaken her for a contemporary of her own children.

She had never partaken of alcohol beyond a glass of wine with dinner, champagne for celebration, or the occasional beer shared with her husband. And tobacco? She had never touched it. She had grown up in a time and place where a woman smoking was considered low class, and improper.

Erwin, of course, was like his parents. But even more restrained than his father in regard to vice. He was already in his early forties and yet didn’t look a day over thirty-five.

The way he moved on the bag was like a man who had yet to end his prime. And Bruno took notice of it.

In the end, the two of them finished their daily exercise and found themselves both sitting in on a bench rehydrating while generations of their family members worked out around them. Some sparred, some hit bags, some lifted weights, others performed calisthenics or line drills.

Men, women, boys, girls, each of Bruno’s family members worked out in some way that kept themselves physically healthy in accordance with their own needs. Erwin couldn’t help but comment on this fact while looking around at how many people were using the gymnasium in some way.

“Honestly, Father. If I didn’t know any better, I would say this facility is an elite performance institute for national-level athletes. I used to think you were crazy for applying the same standards you implemented for physical education across the country to our own family. But looking at what our family is like compared to some of the families of my colleagues from other countries. I can’t help but wonder if you knew exactly what you were doing all along.”

Bruno chuckled, standing up from the seat. He grabbed a nearby fresh towel and wiped the sweat out of his , and off of his biceps before throwing the dirty towel at his son.

“Think fast!’

Erwin dodged with ease, and just when he was about to retaliate, Bruno caught him off guard with a far more profound statement than was needed.

“Mental health often follows the health of the body. Our family sits in a position of immense privilege and power. But that also means we share the burden of immense responsibility. If our bodies and minds become weak and frail. It will be more than our own blood that suffers as a result. So, we train… Our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Iron sharpens iron, and our house was forged from it. Never forget that….”

Erwin stared in utter silence as he watched his father walk off. He reflected on the words for some time before looking back at their family and watching how they all chatted with one another with smiles on their faces and assisted each other with their individual needs.

He then looked back to where Bruno had run off to and shook his head one more time with a smile on his face.

Erwin knew that one day he would have to prove that statement wrong; not by surpassing his father’s strength, but by surviving without it.