“Ichi!”

Uniforms made rustling sounds with each strike.

“Ni!”

Feet shuffled from one end of the room to the other.

“San!”

Each call was repeated with a strict, monotone tone.

“Shi!”

The jutting of hands sliced through the silence of the room.

“Go!”

The sudden rough strikes turned soft before striking hard into the air.

“Roku!”

Their spirits soared like a rising dragon as the students neared the end.

“Shichi!”

With each movement, the breaths of the students would sharpen like their strikes.

“Hachi!”

The intense focus behind each student’s eyes filled their strikes with fighting spirit.

“Ku!”

The kicks that sailed in the air landed against the ground without the expected thud.

“Jyu!”

The final punch shifted through the air with a whizzing of hand motions, and for a moment, all was calm.

Slap!

On cue, the students returned to their neutral stance, their hands returned to their sides, and their legs shifted shoulder-width apart. Then, with a courteous bow, the tension in the air ceased.

An old voice echoed in the air of the dojo as a smile embraced each of the students’ mouths.

“Good. Good. Good.”

The voice came from an older man with crevices from smiling eyes and a beard that made finding hair that wasn’t grey impossible.

“That’s all for today.”

At the older man’s words, the dojo sprung into action. After leaving their good wishes with their Sensei, the students trickled out with a bow. Calls, laughter, and chatter with dojo-mates spoke of each student’s surrounding joy as they left the warm dojo.

However, there was an exception.

A student whose legs had grown soft and numb from sitting on their knees was alone at the doorway. However, the student's eyes showed no mercy for themselves, even as the passing students gave discreet encouraging signals.

“Come closer, Percival.”

As the last student left, the older man beckoned Percival in, who dutifully entered and kneeled before the seated man.

“Sensei.”

Percival greeted and awaited his punishment for arriving late to class. However, no voice rang out even after waiting for a while with his head down. Finally, Percival looked up and saw his Sensei’s eyes staring deeply into his own.

“Your reasoning?”

Percival hurriedly looked down towards the matted floor.

“I was late—”

Percival gathered his courage with a breath and kept speaking.

“—because I was playing a game.”

The older man’s brows raised slightly before lowering back down.

“It must have been vital.”

Percival looked up in a hurry, only to bite his lip and look down again.

“No! Sensei, I—this is more important. I swear—”

“Ease your worries, Percival.”

The older man’s words cut through Percival, and he had to gulp down the rest of his protest. Finally, the older man calmly stood up as he quickly left the dojo and returned with a broom in hand.

“You’ll sweep the dojo. Be sure to finish before your senpais come in for their late-night classes.”

“But—”

Percival’s protest stopped midway as he saw the look in his Sensei’s eyes. They were oddly soft and washed away the words Percival wished to say.

“Yes, Sensei. I’ll start right away.”

…

Brush. Brush.

The faint sounds of sweeping filled the quiet dojo as Percival soothed the dust from the matted floor. Meanwhile, the older man remained atop a seated cushion as he calmly sipped brewed tea.

It would be an understatement to call it a small dojo, and Percival was sweeping with such vigour that he would be lucky if his arms didn’t fall off. However, if Percival didn’t give it his all, there was no hope of finishing in time.

Sweat collected faster than Percival could collect dust as he rushed to sweep every inch of the dojo. From one side to the other, each strand of broom hair swayed across the floor and back as the muscles in Percival’s back tensed in coordination.

Creak.

Percival’s ears and sweeping motions tensed as he heard the gate to the outer dojo courtyard creak. Percival’s eyes sharpened in a fluster before a voice made him regain his senses.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Ease yourself.”

The older man’s eyes never left Percival as he corrected his movements.

“Yes, Sensei.”

The shuffling of feet nearly sent the sweeping rhythm off again, but Percival stopped to greet his senpai before returning to sweeping.

Brush. Brush.

“Senpai.”

Brush. Brush.

“Senpai.”

Each bow felt like a blow to Percival’s calm façade. But, thankfully, Percival had already finished the main area where his senpais would be training.

Percival’s yellow belt shifted alongside his creaking muscles. Finally, after relaxing his footing against the last of the matted floor and collecting all the gathered dust to haul away, the older man spoke out.

“Mokuso.”

The older man began the class when Percival finished; whether by coincidence or intention, Percival would never find out.

Percival carefully put away the broom and gathered dust, careful not to disturb the deep breathing of his meditating senpais and waited for his Sensei’s approval to leave by the exit when he was finished.

However, Percival was destined to curb his hunger with water as he was never spoken to for the entirety of his senpai’s lessons. That left Percival watching in both confusion and awe.

The martial art forms resembled his own; however, his senpais moved with a gracefulness he had only seen in one other person: Novus.

Notably, there was a point in the teachings where each disciple was allowed to practice their polished forms under the older man’s watchful gaze. Two of Percival’s senpais exited and came back with wooden swords. For reasons Percival didn’t understand, his Sensei prohibited real swords inside the dojo.

Percival watched as the two senpais braced their heads against their moving, then still hands, before the wooden sword. They moved in unison and pulled the sword up and into their belt. Then, in one drawing motion, the two senpais extended their swords into the air as they weaved around the mat in practiced strikes.

Percival watched as a mental overlap of Novus followed behind the figures with each sword strike.

Beautiful.

That was the only way Percival could describe it.

Eventually, time passed, and the late-night students trickled out as the class ended.

“Come closer, Percival.”

Percival was awoken from his martial arts reverie at the older man’s voice and rushed to kneel his tired legs before his Sensei.

“What did you see?”

Though his Sensei spoke a question, it seemed more like a statement. Percival wasn’t sure what to say, so he told the truth about what he saw.

“They were mesmerizing forms. I couldn’t look away once I started watching them.”

Percival was suddenly startled when his Sensei burst into a short, deep-belly laughing fit. However, his Sensei quickly calmed as he shook his head and rephrased his question.

“What is troubling you?”

Percival’s eyes widened before thinking his Sensei could see right through him. But then, Percival’s brows knitted together as he tried his best to explain.

“I’ve… grown fearful. The game I was late for showed me something that shouldn’t be possible. It’s made me fearful to continue playing when I think I might face the same experience again.”

The older man’s eyes squinted briefly before pointing to the floor.

“Percival, were you scared you wouldn’t finish sweeping?”

Percival’s eyes shook as he tried to follow where his Sensei’s question was headed.

“Yes, Sensei. I feared holding back my senpais from their lesson. But, I continued sweeping despite my fears.”

The older man nodded his head in agreeance.

“Had you not finished sweeping, would you have left the dojo, never to return?”

Percival protested in shock.

“No! Sensei, I—I wouldn’t leave because of that.”

The older man continued without addressing Percival’s agitation.

“Fears don’t resolve on their own. Neither does conflict. Resolve what's holding you back and move forward.”

…

Percival waited for his Sensei to say more, but only silence and the older man’s kind smile were left. Percival would have to think on the words and would, for the better part of the night, as he pieced together what he should do.

“Thank you for your guidance, sensei.”

The kind smile revealed tea-stained teeth as it moved to say farewell.

“If you understand, then that’s all.”

Percival rose to a bow and exited the dojo.

“Safe wishes, Sensei. I will see you on time tomorrow.”

With a growling stomach and a dry throat, Percival rushed out the courtyard gate and back home.

Behind him in the courtyard loomed the older man who watched Percival’s exit with a serene look. Faint mumblings left the older man’s mouth as he turned to walk back to the adjacent house beside the dojo.

“So hungry. I have to stop staying longer for him.”

A rumble sounded out from the older man’s stomach in agreeance.

“I’m craving noodles.”

----------------------------------------

“This. Isn’t. Working!”

As he reeled from Edna's delicate kick, Novus sucked in a breath between words. However, that didn’t stop Edna from approaching with a training sword and slashing at Novus.

Novus hurriedly raised the sword that Edna had gifted him, but it barely did a thing as Edna sent him through the air.

“Then we keep going until you either die or understand it. You said combat was the simplest way for you. Plus, both of your Soul Trainer skills are support based, so I can only beat the rest into you.”

Thud!

Novus’ back collided with the obsidian platform on the mountain top, forcing him to stop abruptly.

“Ack!”

This isn’t training. It’s plain abuse.

Novus coughed blood as he yelled at Edna to stop the nonsensical training.

“Listen! You’re too strong! Even your tiniest blow is too powerful for me to defend, let alone defend with this sword.”

Novus hefted the sword into the air with great effort and heavy breaths. Finally given a lull in the battle, the sword let out a shaky black hue as Novus demonstrated its primary effect: channelling soul power.

Edna paused before slashing out with her sword. Like many times before, the black hue immediately destabilized as the recoil forced Novus' hand to ache.

Finally, Edna paused her assault and gauged Novus’ condition.

“Hmmm. Maybe you’re right.”

Novus developed a chill across his already-shaking arms. Despite being the words he wanted to hear the most, Novus’ intuition told him otherwise.

Sure enough, in the next moment, Edna’s eyes lit up.

“I have an idea!”

Before Novus could react, Edna’s hand was already clamped underneath his armpit. Novus’ fear grew closer until it peaked as Edna arrived at the long cliff at the top of the lone mountain peak with him in tow.

“If combative pressure is what you need, this will work perfectly.”

“No, this isn’t what I meant—”

Edna pressed a finger against Novus’ forehead as a trace of white fog escaped her finger, leaving a simple spell that rapidly disappeared.

“Mana Seal.”

Panic set in as Novus felt all his mana vessels blocked by Edna's signature white fog. He was sure this next bit would hurt without his Crimson Aura gift of flight.

“Edna, this isn’t the way! Don’t do this!”

Edna lifted the struggling Novus as she drew him back.

“You’ll be fine. If you die, just come back and try again, okay?”

“Edna, please.”

Novus anticipated a moment of reflection on Edna’s face. But instead, he only saw an excited smile bloom.

Toss!

“EDNA!!!”

Novus sailed through the air with a heavy toss and disappeared into the clouds below. Edna lightly blinked before enhancing her voice and shouting to Novus.

“YOU’VE GOT TWO DAYS! CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN BY THEN OR ELSE.”

After yelling, Edna enjoyed the silence. She gazed at the sunrise for a moment before returning to her household.

“I finally have some time to investigate those leads on Gaius.”

Edna hummed sweetly to herself as she casually closed the door with a resounding thud.