The sun rose to spread golden lights through the curtains that ventured across the quarters of Talon. It lit upon the bookshelves and in the fireplace, where the embers still smoked. He couldn't let go of the events of the previous day: the battle he had with Serak, his conversation with Irena. All of it was just the beginning of something much greater than this: the ripple would soon become a tidal wave.
Today was not so different either. The martial arts that had shaped him into the man he was had come back to Talon's mind. His control of them, however, was not just a testament to his level of high-class physical might but defined his strategic mind and people-pushing abilities. Those would come in handy in days to come when competitors started making their moves.
---
He started out in the isolated training hall of the university, waiting for what was to come in silence of this air-thickened anticipation. Talon prepared himself mentally for the inevitable fighting ahead as he went through the routine, honing his mastered techniques that were more than just combat skills but tools for dominance.
The gaits of Old-Style Taekkyon he moved in a light and full energy. First, he learned the flowing dance where he always appears unreachable. Like a nimble child fast and slipping past his opponents so before they could mark his presence.
He brought everything he practiced into Taekwondo. His kicks were fast and sharp; the force applied when striking was due to practice for several years. He recalled dueling many times where it ended when one blow finished it and opponents were seen in the dust. Speed is power, and he practiced them without effort.
Now, it was Aikido—the art of redirecting force. Talon's movements slowed now deliberate. He remembered when he used Aikido to turn even the strongest of his enemies against themselves. There was a phrase he'd been taught: "Fighting harder is not about fighting smarter." A well-timed shift in balance could send even the fiercest opponent crashing to the ground.
Muay Thai was all raw aggression. Talon's kicks—knees, elbows, and shins—cut through the air like weapons of war. He remembered his days in the underground fights where blood and broken bones were the norm. He learned there how to break a man in body and spirit. There was no finish in each blow, as it served as a reminder of the brutal path he had trod.
Precision. That's what Wing Chun gave him. It was an art of efficiency wherein every strike meant something. To him, in his brain, it was a close-quarters fight, one where only speed and precision mattered. He would bring all his enemies to fenced-in spaces where they had no room to run.
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Then there was Jeet Kune Do, the martial philosophy that had shaped his way of fighting. "Absorb what is useful," he muttered to himself, as if salved by the famous line of Bruce Lee. In his mind, Jeet Kune Do had made him versatile for changing the situation on a dime and turning adversity around.
From there, it easily led into Systema, which truly is a system built around breathing and control in pressure. Talon's mind would clear as he remembered the teachings of the Russian system: it was about having a hold on control, control of the body, of the mind, and of the situation. Systema made him unreachable in turmoil and his strikes fluid yet murderous.
Pain and patience were part of Kyokushin. Talon hurled his fists into the air again and again. Every bitter training he was forced to undergo reminded him of a strike. Kyokushin meant no escape from pain—it was a test of wills. It was the point at which a man could take how much before breaking. Talon never broke.
He concluded with Kapu Kuilua and Kali Arnis, nasty arts which he added a savage edge to his arsenal, already pretty formidable. Kapu Kuilua—he remembered the street fights, broken bones, and dislocated joints—all accomplished with ruthless efficiency. Kali Arnis made him a master of weapons; even a simple stick was deadly.
---
Talon slowed his breathing as he completed the routine. All styles of martial arts he had mastered were tools with a purpose in the climb toward power. But it wasn't just about muscle. He knew strategy, manipulation, and control served as equally well as brawn.
Just when my mind began to wander back to work, Irena opened the door.
Master," she whispered, lowering her head. "I have information.".
Talon nodded for her to continue speaking. She reached him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your opponents are moving about just as you said.".
"Who?" Talon's voice was ice. His eyes were keen.
---
Irena paused for a beat, then continued, "Noryn Vyrnos has begun rallying students to his cause. He's playing them like chess pieces by promising them shelter and more underhand favors to keep them loyal to him. He's gaining strength.".
Talon's eyes dimmed. It was not his strength that was the threat, but it was the ability to manipulate strings from the shadows. He was a tactician, a man who saw others as pawns on the board to be shifted and discarded when convenient.
"And then there's Iren Karros," Irena added. "He has been training harder since his brother's defeat. He still claims to be the strongest fighter in the university and has learned seven kinds of martial arts."
Talon ground his teeth. Iren was a proud man, just like Serak. But Iren had talent behind his boasts. A rematch was unavoidable, and when it was to be won, Talon knew it would be one to talk about long after night's end.
And Lira Esthalis, Irena concluded. She is using her beauty and charm to ascend the ranks. She is charming her way into more influential, higher-ranking students day by day.
Talon stepped back, looking down at the parts that were fitted together. Lira was manipulative but did not work like Noryn. Where Noryn works on cold calculation, Lira works on persuasion and charm, drawing them in with her presence. She's dangerous in a different way.
--- Talon thought fast. All his enemies were exposing their hands, but they did not have the faintest idea what lay hidden in his pocket. His skills in martial arts, his dominance over people—all this was the grand design behind it. “Good,” Talon said finally. “Let them gather their strength. I’ll crush them when the time is right.” She bowed again, and this time she left the dim room, leaving him to his nightmare. The wheels now were set in motion. Soon Talon would remind them all why he is to be feared. They may gather forces, but Talon had spent years not only honing the martial art but also the art of dominance. And by the days that followed, they all would learn the price of challenging him. The storm intensified, but the sharp edge of Talon never dulled while keeping watch for the perfect moment to deliver the blow.