7:00 AM —After a repeat of the breathing exercise, Lark did not collapse into a coma this time; all the while maintaining his posture with the sword facing forward instead of his hands. Half the time, he fidgeted, but somehow managed to keep his arms up without letting go of the sword. Wangshi neither approved or disapproved, which was the same business as usual.

“Ok, broomer. What do you’ve got for me?” Overstating confidence was another business acumen he picked up from elitist meet and greets, but the perspiration brimming down his forehead and forearms did not lie or missed by the ever-watchful caretaker.

“How do you feel?”

This question again. “I feel…fine?”

Wangshi kept himself at arm’s distance. The lines between his eyebrows creased. With a small ‘hmm,’ he paced around Lark, continuing with a thorough examination. “And… did you pick up the difference between spiritual qi and mana?”

“I…uh…how do I explain this?” He stalled. The truth was, his focus shifted to holding his posture instead of his breathing. The previous lesson did not stay inside his head. At all.

Wangshi didn’t sigh but looked at Lark with a knowing look that he could do better.

“Hold on. It’s that when I was training with Sphinx, I managed to pull off both magic and psionic attacks. If I had to say what the difference is—spiritual powers feel intensely hot or cold like shooting energy out of my arms. Whereas magic feels like I’m speed-painting something that is like really airy or light—” he swished his hands the way a conductor would at a crescendo.

“I was overcome by rage when I pulled those attacks against them. Hurt by their betrayal, my entire body felt like it was burning up and with the gun, I knew I could hurt them back and it felt like all my problems went away.”

“The second time, I was so…so desperate.” He unconsciously tugged at his arm. Wangshi visibly tensed. “Furious too, asking myself, why am I here? To just die like this?”

“So when I used the swords—it was like this unimaginable power rushing through my blood. A bit different from the gun, because it felt like I was attacking them indirectly. ”

“The fiend and Sphinx?”

Lark nodded.

“If I had to guess, what happened there — you were borrowing external mana from the equipment rather than using your own qi or mana. Just using the jian will produce wind qi, just as using the broadsword will amplify burns.”

Lark nodded once more until the end of the broomstick stopped him under his chin. “But Burst is neither of those things. And the healing spell you activated was from the last character of this named blade - hui - which means return.”

He unsheathed the jian for Lark to take a look at the etchings on the blade. “Together these characters say, Fanhui. My family’s meaning of the name was so that I could return home or fly home.”

“So, this sword can make you fly and it also heals?” Lark asked, confused.

“That’s not quite right.” Wangshi dropped the broomstick to the floor and balanced his feet on the end. “Even without external mana, I can make objects hover with the use of my qi, it only…takes a lot more effort!” With a light stomp, he managed to summon a green glow under his feet.

“That looks like wind-walker.”

“That’s it, a magic skill,” Wangshi confirmed.

“What? That’s it? You don’t have to do some crazy hand motions or chant?”

“No?” Wangshi rubbed his goatee, while Lark looked more confused than ever.

“I see what you’re thinking,” the caretaker spoke with a sudden epiphany. “Don’t get it confused with Terragon Magic. What Mishka likely did was borrow energy from those items to pull off Blaze or Wind-walker. I’m teaching you what I know from Celestia, although there is some cross-over. Remember, what I told you about mana-coating and affinities?”

“Sorta.” Lark wore an expression that said he would go back to it later.

“Affinities give a substantial boost in power. A person with a water affinity naturally can summon water without much thought if they’re capable. Otherwise, they would need to say something like ‘water,’ because ‘calling’ powers up mana. Like so—Wind-walker!”

A thicker film of green-colored mana summoned under Wangshi’s feet. “And my speed increases with it.”

“What you’re saying is if I practice twice as hard, I can summon fire, ice, or lightning with just the snap of my fingers. And if I wanted them to be bigger I would have to add chants.”

“…Yes…Truth be told though, I’m relaying basics. A proper mage would be a better fit to teach you.”

"Okay! No take backs!" Feeling more excited than ever, Lark went into the first sword stance Wangshi showed him.

Gua-Feng. A push back move.

Both his arms and legs swept across the floor in one circular, continuous motion as the sword pretended to ward off an incoming attack.

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Wangshi tapped on the sword from the side when Lark’s arms stiffened from the impact. “Your arm strength must always stay constant,” he remarked, making corrections to Lark’s stance. “Then when you’ve gathered enough qi, what do you do?”

Lark focused on the target, one of his grandfather’s half-torso mannequin, and stomped on the ground, yelling (in an embarrassed voice), “Gua-feng!”

“Could be louder, but pass.” Wangshi picked up the fallen torso and moved on to adjust the birdie feeder next to the mannequin.

“Question,” Lark raised his hand. “When I gather qi, why can't I collect it externally?”

Wangshi paused, to look up at him, then said, “You could. The method I’m showing you uses internal qi, but it’s possible to also collect the surrounding energy. But…” He posed his lips in a dubious smile. “That’s a technique more difficult than mana-coating because you have to focus on two things at once, an inner you and outer you.”

Lark’s face was blank and Wangshi looked back at feeder. “That’s why I said it’s too early for you…”

“But which is better though?” Lark continued to ask. “External energy or internal?”

“External,” Wangshi answered without hesitation. “That is because your internal energies, qi and mana, are always being molded by outside forces. The reason why Earth cannot use mana is because... there are no spirits who can help create the bond between elements and spiritual energy.”

“So even though there are Leylines, I can’t use that energy?”

“You know how there are different kinds of batteries for different things, Lark? The energy for Leylines is specific in that way too. It’s used to power up…materials rather than people.”

Lark nodded, thinking back to the transporters, flying vehicles and alchemy pot—which he made sure to put away this time—then he asked another question, loosening his stance. “Why couldn’t you guys make your own transporters?”

“That’s something related to magic law—even I at this age don’t actually understand it, but there are some things too powerful to comprehend,” he answered and pushed Lark back into the center. “Now go!”

A birdie flew out, hitting Lark awkwardly in the leg as he attempted to deflect it with the sword and Wangshi chuckled.

“Take it more seriously. Will you?”

Lark toughened his stance once more. “Gua-fff—” another birdie managed to punch him squarely in the jaw.

“Your timing is all wrong. Focus!” This time Wangshi barked at him. Gushi, who was on standby, swung its antenna back and forth as if to cheer for him.

The young boy snapped out his stupor, gearing up for the third shot when a cold chill crawled out from under his gut. Lark frowned as the ‘voom’ zipped past his ear and his back straightened instantly. He missed the bird again, but the jian instead blocked the wood that was about to slam against his ribs.

Wangshi pulled back the broomstick and turned off the feeder. “You were actually able to sense intent.”

An icy dread poured down the back of his neck as he watched Wangshi take off his jacket. Before now, he had never noticed how buffed Wangshi’s arms actually looked. To the average movie-goer, his caretaker could play the role of a mafia member. He gulped, but his arms were no longer moving haphazardly like earlier and his body unconsciously adjusted to Wangshi’s movements.

“It seems like I was treating you too much as a child…” Wangshi cracked the tension and whipped the broomstick in front of himself as if it was a real sword. “For someone who gains experience through trial and error, this is the best method for you to learn.”

A green flash entered Lark’s vision before he realized he was viciously kicked in the stomach. “By beating it in you it seems!”

“Why does everybody gotta cheat—” Lark’s eyes flashed dangerously as he got back on his feet. He shifted onto his side and jumped back once he saw the stick swing out. “—too close!”

“Until you can use the first form— don’t even think about taking a break.”

Without a moment to spare, Wangshi went after him again with a powerful swing from above.

8:15 AM — Barely keeping up with Wangshi’s collected expressions, his entire body drenched with sweat. Even as exhausted as he was now, he could tell he was close to gaining something. The way his caretaker came at him from different angles made him remember how he’d tried to protect the ball from defenders in soccer. Those who had tried to steal the ball from him regretted it.

Their weapons collided once more and Lark felt his arms shake from seeing the green-colored mana condense over the broomstick—one of the reasons why the plain jian hadn’t sliced it in half already.

“Am I reminding you of the times when we practiced your shoot style?” Wangshi asked rather cheekily, coming close to Lark’s rear.

He grimaced while scrambling for a strategy. Wangshi wasn’t allowing him any time to gather qi nor even enough time to catch his breath. How could he use a push back move if he kept getting cornered like this? How could he create distance in a small space such as this? His past couple tries for a fake kept getting seen through and Wangshi moved faster than he could predict.

“Yikes!” He dodged once more into a short tumble. The narrow escapes continued for nearly an hour and he was getting sick of it. If he couldn’t be tricky, then he’d have to just go for it!

Wangshi reappeared in front of him and pulled the broomstick back for a spear-like thrust. In that split-second, Lark saw himself side-stepping the lunge, and pictured the form’s steps: one, step in and sweep. Two gather qi. Circulate. Breathe. Finally, three…Release!

“Gua-feng!” He shouted as their swords crossed paths, neck to neck. The broomstick never touched his, and instead, Wangshi took the hit to the shoulder. Green-mana covered the caretaker’s arm as he retreated several steps from the blow. It wasn’t the explosive kickback Lark wanted, but this should count as a successful counter.

The old coot smirked and pinched the side of Lark’s face. “It is a bit sloppy, but you may be a late bloomer.”

Actually, this could be the one moment Lark believed he had ever seen Wangshi smile so brightly.

“Every day from this moment forward, I want you to promise me you’ll swing this sword with the same passion you had for soccer. In fact, I bet you’ll use the next form the most.”

Huo-feng. The second form, which used kicks for a fiery offense.

Lark watched in awe as Wangshi demonstrated the move with such ferocity and technicality. It as if he could hear the sharp, razor wind fan out from Wangshi’s continuous footwork. More impressively, the series of smooth movements traveled with the sword at the same time, making it hard to defend against. Any of those small kicks could become the final strike too.

“The room feels warmer,” Lark remarked after Wangshi’s foot stopped mid-motion in front of the torso.

“I’m glad you noticed. This technique releases hot air, in fact, it’s best used with whirlwind type kicks. It takes a lot of work to maintain balance from spinning too much, but you’re used to that.”

Wangshi seemed to have the wrong idea about soccer and rotational kicks to the actual body twirls. Though, admittedly, he did steal the ball from opponents in that low arched position before.

Lark tested his first step. He crouched to the ground and stuck out his leg into a large, smooth 360-degree sweep.

“Wrong. Again.” Wangshi straightened his foot, and Lark lost his balance, falling onto his elbows for support. “Again,” Wangshi repeated.

Lark practiced the process again and again till his footwork got noticeably faster and smoother, but even if his body felt more fluid, all Wangshi said was ‘do it again’ without even a hint. He wouldn’t comment if the posture was correct or wrong this time. Frustration built up inside his head and Lark pushed his body to go swifter and harder. Over and over he made the same movements until he felt it - the air around his toes wavered.