The wind from the hill blew my hair back.
I stood on familiar ground, yet it now felt different.
Not because the place had changed—
But because I was slowly changing.
A Blazing Moment
Sweat dripped down my forehead, my legs trembled, and my hands were scraped from relentless training.
At that moment—when my body was ready to give in—a voice echoed in my mind once more...
"But your technique... is still far too raw."
— Belzeebub.
I clenched my fists.
Not out of anger. But because I understood. He was right.
If I rely solely on raw strength… I'll just keep losing.
And then, another voice followed…
"Overcome hardship with wisdom, not brute force alone."
— Blaze.
I need to start thinking. Not just striking.
I must be like the earth—solid, but calm.
An Unforgettable Introduction
That afternoon, Murphy gathered us beneath a large tree. A small campfire flickered, casting orange light across his stern face.
"Hiro, Carla. I want to introduce you to someone."
"His name is Zeco, my younger brother. Not just family—but a capable companion."
Zeco stepped forward, parting his cloak to reveal a thick leather belt and a small weapon sheath on his back. He nodded respectfully.
"You're about to walk a long path. I want to walk it with you—not ahead, not behind, but beside you."
Carla looked at him for a moment, then gave a quiet nod.
"As long as you can keep up with the rhythm."
Techniques from Legend
Murphy began training that day by standing in the middle of a flat field, marking the ground with his heel.
"No swords. No spears. Only hands and instinct. That is the true combat of the land's guardians."
He taught me the basic forms of the legendary Viking hand-to-hand combat:
Heaven's Grasp — a downward strike using a straight fist and waist rotation. Spiral Thrust — a straight punch combined with a rear-leg pivot, using full body momentum. Underground Shield — a low cross-block followed by a sweeping leg to unbalance the enemy. Layered Stone Push — a two-handed chest shove using total body weight to create distance. Shadow Slash — a fast, silent strike aimed at a blind spot after a half-step retreat.
Training ran from dawn to dusk. I fell, was thrown, and hit the ground hard. But all of it fueled my determination.
Emotional Trials and Reflection
One night, after an intense session, I sat alone at the cliff's edge. The wind pierced my chest. The wound on my elbow hadn't yet healed.
I gazed at the sky. Once again, that voice came…
"You can't keep running from reality... or from yourself."
— Blaze.
I lowered my head.
I had been running. From the past. From destiny. From… my mother's death.
But no more.
Then came another voice—cold, sharp like a blade…
"Face the bitter truth the right way. Don't drown in despair and confusion, fool."
— Blaze.
I gritted my teeth. I stood up.
I will become strong. Not just for revenge. But to understand.
To protect.
To fight for the right reasons.
The Warning Sign
As my training progressed, Zeco came rushing in, face serious.
"Joker knows you're here."
Carla furrowed her brow. "Who's Joker?"
Murphy and Zeco exchanged glances.
Neither of them answered.
"We have to go," Murphy said firmly. "Back to the Viking village. There, you'll be more prepared for what's coming."
We packed our things. In silence, we have to move 1 step ahead of the person they mean, Joker.