It was a nice day, no wind, the sun beating down, a perfect day some would say. Indeed, it was a perfect day, a perfect day for Silas Blanchet to get beat down by Liwei Zhang. There young Silas Blanchet lay, gripping his sword, face battered and bruised, body screaming in pain, blood stained the platform. He was tired, his pride was shattered, and he wanted to go home.
"You have the technique for sure, but you lack the grit, the killing edge, the adaptability. You pretend to be calm, but deep down I know what you are, a scared boy, scared of failure, scared of death. Nobody has ever pushed you this far till today this much is evident. Well today is that day, whether you lay down and die as your friends continue to get stronger, or fight and push past your limits is up to you.
He paced back and forth waiting for Silas to get up.
People like me and you; we aren't special, we don't have a god to go ahead and hand us power, we have to scrape and claw for our strength." Liwei drilled into Silas.
Silas groaned, his lungs burned, his hands hurt, his feet ached. His kept hair had been disheveled. He struggled to his feet. Liwei was right, nobody had ever really pushed him this far, to a point where he thought he might die. It seemed there was no way he could beat Liwei, why try? he thought to himself. But he also thought about Killian, and how he refused to give up, despite the trials, despite their situation. He couldn't let himself go down here.
When Silas finally got up Liwei charged right back at him. He watched how controlled Liwei was, he each movement wasn't thought about, it was instinctive. He tried to keep up as best as he could and even felt like he was getting adjusted to Liwei's speed.
They were locked in an exchange that felt like it could've lasted forever, their clashing blades ringing loud enough to be heard from the inner parts of the village. Despite Silas's determination, Liwei began to overpower him, his experience, mastery of the sword, and sheer physical strength pressing down like a mountain. He backed away to get a breath.
Then he felt like someone was behind him.
A warmth, steady, grounding, like two hands settling onto his shoulders. Silas glanced behind him, breath hitching. A projection stood there: a tall man with the same split black-and-white hair, a thick scruffy beard, and a presence that radiated ancient power. In his hand was a sword Silas recognized instantly. It had hung in his father's manor for years.
"My most prized possession," his father always said.
The family sword.
The realization hit Silas hard. This man... this had to be the ancestor from whom the technique originated. But how?
A calm, resonant voice filled his head.
"Do not fear. I am here to help, young one. Your technique is not bad, but it needs refinement. It has evolved over time... but its foundation has been lost. I am indeed your ancestor. For now, I will lend you my strength so you may overcome this man."
The spirit seemed to grow larger, more defined. Silas felt the warmth surge through him. He turned back toward Liwei, eyes beginning to glow, and lowered into the stance he knew best, the only move he had truly mastered.
Torrent Furieux. The Raging Torrent.
"Interesting stance, Silas," Liwei called across the field.
He looked at Liwei with determination; he relaxed himself like his father would say. Becoming fluid, like water, and crashing like a hurricane.
Silas held his blade at his hip, as if preparing to unsheathe it, every muscle coiled. Liwei rushed forward with killing intent, sword drawn back for a decisive strike-
but Silas vanished from his view.
A burst of speed propelled Silas forward. He slammed the hilt of his sword upward, knocking Liwei's blade out of alignment and into the air. In the same breath, Silas slid back into the stance and unleashed a lightning-fast thrust straight into Liwei's gut. The impact traveled in a clean, devastating line.
Liwei staggered. He could not continue.
Silas had prevailed.
He turned to thank the spirit behind him, but the glowing figure was already fading, its final sparks drifting away like fireflies. Silas hoped, deeply, that he would see his ancestor again.
"Pretty good to win against me," Liwei muttered, catching his breath, "even if I'm only using a sword."
"After like a hundred tries I finally got you down. I'm not dumb enough to not realize that you could have destroyed me whenever you wanted. But at least that attack was real." said Silas happily.
Silas helped Liwei up as they headed toward the Abbots building ready to check on Killian and Deandre.
"The Abbot does not hold back in his training methods. Your friends will wish they were dead when he is done with them." Liwei warned.
Silas hoped his friends made it through the first day like he did.