Gonten was scared out of his wits, but he stood there. He had seen Inaki’s fight against Taral. He was nowhere fit enough to fight. Gonten just needed to distract Taral for enough time for Inaki to recover. Gonten could see Inaki hiding in the bushes, and he knew that Taral would kill Inaki if Gonten did not step up.

What the hell are you doing, Gonten, why? Gonten had just moved, he didn’t know why.

“How dare you,” Taral screamed, running at Gonten. Gonten stepped back, and began running away from him. “You think you can fight me, you can barely fight my eight year old child.”

Gonten tried to block a sword strike, but Taral hit Gonten’s sword so hard that Gonten’s own sword hit him, wounding him under the eye, at his nose.

Gonten hit the ground, so his own sword wouldn’t cut through his head. Gonten rolled on the ground, Taral’s sword buried itself into the dirt as he slashed down. Gonten quickly stood up and tried to slash at him.

Taral blocked, but Gonten had a slight advantage—since Taral had to pull his sword out of the dirt—and stepped forward and began slashing at Taral as fast as he could, using the stance that Takehito had taught him.

Sagestance.

Gonten ended up tripping over himself, Taral tried to block, but Gonten’s tripping had been so unpredictable, that Gonten managed to get in a hit. A small scratch on Taral’s arm. Gonten didn’t have enough time to celebrate getting this small hit in. He still needed to survive.

“How dare you,” Taral screamed, now a creature of tears and rage. Taral’s attacks were very good, but not really the level of a Platinum. That’s when Gonten realized that even Taral was drunk. How drunk Taral was would dictate whether he would be able to survive this fight long enough for Inaki to recover. Taral stepped forward and slashed down at Gonten, Gonten jumped back. Taral continued slashing at him, each of Taral’s strikes were lethal hits. Gonten couldn’t even block these hits, he could only try his best to dodge, but he was beginning to get covered in scratches from Taral’s sword. Some wounds were shallow nicks, others deep gashes.. He didn’t aim for his arms or his legs, or anything, each strike was either a stab to the heart or a slash to the neck. Gonten wouldn’t last much longer. He was becoming dizzy losing blood.

Gonten was overwhelmed. He tried his best to dodge, but he felt his body being nicked and slashed up as he tried to dodge.

I just need to survive until Inaki recovers.

“Take your time to recover brother,” Gonten said. “I will survive.”

Gonten stepped back, and reverted to Tigerstance. Gonten found himself tripping, unable to fight as well, Takehito’s Sagestance was too difficult, Gonten still didn’t know why Takehito made him train with this one, but Gonten had killed two Irons with his stance. But now Gonten wasn’t up against two Irons, he was up against a Platinum, might as well be fighting a hundred Irons. Gonten just had to hope that Taral was drunk enough.

Gonten jumped back, Taral continued slashing at Gonten, but Gonten took a second to switch back to his Lionstance. He wasn’t comfortable in either Tigerstance or Sagestance at that time.

Gonten continued being pushed back, the absolute gap in skill between the two fighters could never be more apparent. Taral slashed at Gonten, Gonten dodged, but found a deep gash in his left upper arm.

He screamed in pain as he felt his muscle cut in half by the sword. He wasn’t used to this pain, Gonten saw as Taral slashed at his neck, Gonten threw himself to the ground and began squirming back as Taral slashed at him.

“Have you never been scratched before,” Taral screamed as he slashed down.

This Taral and the Taral that Gonten had seen in the room were completely different. Gonten could barely recognize this man. Was this the effect of the sword?

Gonten threw himself onto his feet, the pain was still blinding his left shoulder feeling numb. He couldn’t hold his sword in both hands anymore. He held it in his right hand.

Takehito had made Gonten practice his sword with only one hand too. From then on, Taral stopped his lethal strikes. He stepped forward and began toying around with Gonten. This wasn’t a duel anymore, it was a swordsman slashing at a dummy for entertainment. Taral slashed Gonten in the chest, opening another deep wound, Gonten jumped back trying to stop Taral’s sword from hitting his heart, but he lost his balance and hit the ground.

“You are barely even a swordsman,” Taral said. “You have slashed at me once in our whole fight. Are you even going to try?”

“I will try,” Gonten said. “I will try because I am not useless.”

Gonten stood up, his left hand limp, bleeding from wounds that he had developed all over his body. He focused on the blood leaping out of his body, and felt his energy drain. Gonten knew he was going to fall. He stared Inaki in the eye. Was that concern on his face?

Taral looked like he would get more injured walking through bushes than fighting Gonten. But that is what Gonten had expected. He just needed to survive.

“Focus on what you want to see,” Gonten heard Takehito’s voice in his head.

Taral was not a warrior. He was just a sharp bush. A sharp bush that Gonten had to shape.

Taral slashed at Gonten, and Gonten blocked, he felt his wrist screaming at him, he screamed even louder. He had grown to hate the sword, everytime he held the sword in his hand he remembered the shame, loss, disappointment.

“I,” Gonten screamed as slashed at Taral, forcing Taral to dodge back. “Am,” Gonten stepped forward, grabbing Taral with his limp left arm with all the force of his body—his arm felt like it was going to fall offbut he still forced his hand to move. “Not useless.” Gonten screamed as he grabbed Taral closer and headbutted him in the nose. It didn’t matter how great of a swordsman you were when there wasn’t a sword involved. Gonten was younger, physically stronger.

Taral stepped backwards. He rushed at Gonten, Gonten barely dodged the strikes. Gonten barely moved his sword, moving with all the strength in his legs and body.

Gonten stepped back, taking a deep breath. Taral paused too, the rage in his eyes looked slightly quelled.

“What has Takehito done to you,” Taral asked, bleeding from his nose. “In one month.”

Gonten looked at his blade. The loss and embarrassment had been replaced. Now when he looked at his sword, he remembered the peace and harmony of the garden, working with his bushes.

“I will now give you a respectable end,” Taral said. “In respect for Takehito, and not for you.”

“How do you know?” Gonten said, standing.

“You think the world wouldn’t know that the Firstborn of Hassai had run off with the son of Sage Ganryu Koji.”

Gonten took a deep breath in, and calmed himself down. He reminded himself that he was working in a garden, he remembered that he couldn’t win if he was angry like he was before, even if he had gotten one hit in.

Gonten stood in Sagestance, holding his sword in one hand, with his left hand limp, bleeding useless at his side. Taral took this as the cue that he was ready, and rushed at Gonten. Gonten ran at Taral. Gonten looked at Taral and imagined what he wanted, his sword through Taral’s heart. He focused on it.

They slashed at each other, then ran past each other. Takehito attacked Gonten, and Gonten attacked Takehito. The two of them passed each other.

Gonten took in deep breaths, staring at the bush in which Inaki was sitting. Inaki was staring at Gonten wide-eyed, a shocked look that Gonten had never seen in his eyes.

Gonten looked at his right arm, and realized that he had lost. But he still looked Inaki in the eye and smiled.

“I fought a Platinum,” Gonten said. “There is no shame.”

Gonten hit the ground, fainting due to blood loss.

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

Inaki had never thought he would ever do this. He ran out of the bush, screaming and crying. Gonten’s right arm had been cut off clean at the shoulder, but Taral was standing there, his sword had flown back, back to the bush.

Inaki saw a big gash across Gonten’s chest. Gonten didn’t have even the slightest chance, but he had still fought with all he had.

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But what Inaki couldn’t understand, was that after losing a fight, he had smiled. Why would he smile?

Inaki began rushing, dragging Gonten’s body back to the bush leaving a path of blood. Taral was standing there waiting.

“I am ready when you are,” Taral said. “Consider that a token of respect to your brother and Takehito.”

Inaki quickly ripped off Gonten’s robes and began tying it around the wound. He needed to stop the bleeding, and that would have to do for now. Inaki tore off his own robes and using the blade that Taral had loaned him, he began cutting up Gonten’s robes, creating bandages.

Gonten seemed to come back to consciousness and he whispered, “I am not useless, aren’t I brother.”

“You aren’t,” Inaki said. “You fought worthy of being called son-Hassai.”

“That might be the first kind words you’ve ever said to me,” Gonten said, raising a bloodied left arm to touch Inaki’s cheek.

“Having trouble are we,” Inaki heard a voice, he looked at the wall, and in one of the slits in the wall, he saw a face.

Takehito.

“News has spread about you entering the castle,” Takehito said from outside the walls. “In fact at the castle gates there are hundreds of people waiting to challenge you.

“Please, can you take him,” Inaki said.

“The wall is too high,” Takehito said. “How could you drag my disciple into your ploy for petty revenge.”

Inaki had only ever felt disdain and disappointment at his brother, why was he feeling this way seeing him wounded. Inaki had expected that if he ever saw his brother die in a duel, he would just think of it as expected, and wouldn’t even really think about it.

“Rub this on the wound,” Takehito slipped in. “It should slow down the bleeding.”

Inaki quickly began working, looking over his shoulder to see Taral sitting in the grass meditating with his sword in his lap.

“Come on, you don’t have the time,” Takehito said.

Inaki stood up and looked down at his brother. He was barely conscious, his eyes were slightly opened, and his lips were slightly twitching.

“You can defeat him brother,” Gonten said.

“Don’t worry,” Inaki feigned confidence. “I will.’

“How will you,” Hassai whispered into Inaki’s ears. “It’s good that this disappointment is dying, after swinging above his weight, now you will too.”

Inaki stepped forward, out of the bushes. Taral opened his eyes and looked up at Inaki. His expression was different than before. He didn’t look as angry.

“Are you ready,” Taral said.

“Yes,” Inaki said, putting the metal sword given by Taral in front of him. Inaki felt the hair on his arms rising as Taral approached him, he had been like a predator, but after his defeat of Gonten, his look changed. It was evident from his fight with Gonten that he was drunk, but now he had a much gentler look in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you kill him,” Inaki screamed. “You said you would.”

“I still don’t know,” Taral said, raising his sword in front of him. “But I am close to finding out.”

“What?” Inaki said, stepping closer, reminding himself of Gonten’s bravery. Taral stepped forward holding his sword in that same strange stance that Inaki didn’t know of.

The difference between a Platinum and a Diamond seemed like that between a boy who had just gotten his sword with its unadorned wooden hilt, and a Gold.

Taral rushed at Inaki and Inaki blocked three swift strikes, all aimed at his arms.

“What are you doing,” Inaki screamed, blocking a strike that came for his legs.

“I still don’t know goddammit,” Taral said. “Let me meditate.”

Taral slashed under Inaki’s feet, Inaki jumped and slashed downwards at Taral, who easily stepped aside without a second thought.

Inaki was on the backfoot, but Taral wasn't as aggressive as he was during his fight against Gonten. Had Gonten weakened him? No, he had gotten one shallow strike and a headbutt, it wouldn’t be possible for him to become weakened.

Or was Taral at the edge of becoming a Sage, all this took about meditating. The thought terrified Inaki.

Ascension to the other ranks was simple. Win enough duels, or give a yearly exam. The ascension to Sage on the other-hand was a mysterious one, the Sages all claimed themselves, that they didn’t know how they became Sages, and the only way to identify was proclaiming yourself one, then going to the other Sages.

Inaki smelt bullshit in this system, but was it true? It couldn’t be, he was being less aggressive, allowing Inaki to block more, and tiring himself out.

“What the hell are you doing,” Inaki said, stepping forward and slashing at his neck. Taral swatted away his sword as if it was a minor inconvenience.

Inaki stepped forward and slashed at him. He continued to swat his sword as if it was nothing, but when he slashed back, each strike was like a tiger’s paw, damaging Inaki to his very core. His wrists quaked trying to keep the sword supported in his hands. His stance wavered, meaning that even the strikes he was able to dish out were extremely weak.

Taral stepped forward, raining his sword down towards Inaki’s shoulder, Inaki blocked, but his sword cracked. Inaki quickly moved his shoulder out of the way, but he felt a shard of his own sword embed itself into his shoulder. His previous wounds were re-opening, but this made Inaki scream in pain.

He stood with a broken piece of sword. He knew nothing. Inaki ran back into the bushes, Taral began following, Inaki didn’t know what he was doing, Gonten had a sword. Could Inaki disrespect his brother that way?

Inaki threw the broken half of his sword into the bush and stepped forward.

“Take my sword,” Gonten said, pushing himself up with his one hand to sit.

“No, I can’t do that,” Inaki said.

“Why,” Gonten said. “You did that before, when we were sparring.”

“You have now earned my respect,” Inaki said.

“Please, take my blade,” Gonten said.

“No,” Inaki said. But he had an idea. Inaki picked up Gonten’s sword, but not by the hilt, instead he held it just above the hilt, on the blade. It bit into his skin, but that’s how he would fight, if he needed to fight while honoring his brother.

“Brother, you don’t have to,” Gonten said. “You won’t be able to win this way.”

“I don’t care,” Inaki said, stepping out of the bush, where Taral was standing. “I respect you brother.”

“Take your time,” Taral said. “Have a friendly chat, want me to get you two some tea?”

Inaki pressed forward at Taral, and Taral slashed at Inaki once, who was holding his blade not by the hilt in respect to his brother. Inaki blocked, but he bit his lip as tears formed in his eyes from his palm and fingers being cut through.

Inaki just needed to wait for him to get tired. All he needed to do was wait, wait for Taral to get tired. Taral was a nearly fifty year old man. Could Inaki win a battle of attrition? Inaki didn’t know if he could bet on that.

Taral continued slashing at Inaki, and everytime Inaki blocked his powerful attacks, Inaki felt more tears pooling in his eyes, and more blood pooling on the floor around him.

Taral slashed Inaki, Inaki turned to dodging as much as possible, but he just couldn’t dodge that much, each strike he had to block was more and more of a toll on Inaki.

Inaki dodged to the side, Taral kneed Inaki in the stomach, and made a deep gash in Inaki’s right arm. Inaki screamed in more pain. Inaki hit the ground. Inaki rubbed his hand in the bloody dirt and forced himself onto his feet. Taral took one step forward towards Inaki.

Then he stopped.

He stopped pressing forward. He stopped attacking more. He just stood there, with his eyes closed. His breathing was measured and controlled, and he had an air of asceticism around him. Inaki rushed at Taral, but he blocked, his eyes still closed. Taral blocking caused nothing to him, but each time Inaki attacked and was blocked, his bleeding palm became worse and worse.

Instantly, Inaki began feeling a different energy from Taral. He didn’t feel a wild torrent of rage, sadness, helplessness, self-hate, no. It was a measured tempest, calm waters, which alternated between controlled high-tides and low-tides.

To Inaki’s senses as a swordsman, Taral had changed entirely. Unrecognizable from the beast of a swordsman that Inaki had felt before. Before Taral had felt like a beast who had leashed himself. Now, he had a serene aura to him. Inaki quaked, he knew what was happening.

Taral opened his eyes, and leaped at Inaki. It was as if some sort of puzzle piece had fallen into its place in Taral’s head, he suddenly seemed… more in control. Not of the fight, but of himself, as if each of his attacks was not just the epitome of skill, and precision, but also the epitome of control.

In that moment, Inaki realized that he wasn’t fighting a Platinum anymore, instead he was fighting a Sage. In an instant, all that Inaki thought of the ascension to Sage was changed.

Taral slashed at Inaki and Inaki blocked as he had been, once again screaming in pain. Taral was once again attacking non-lethally, but he wasn’t attacking as fast, he was slower, calmer, but still, unpredictable.

Inaki stepped forward to slash, it was as if Taral’s blade barely moved when he blocked, Inaki’s sword just barely dipped off its path and moved past Taral’s chin, not even injuring him.

Taral stepped forward and slashed at Inaki’s arms once again. Inaki blocked it, but he screamed as the wounds to his palms became too much. He dropped his sword. Inaki didn’t know what to do. Taral stepped forward and slashed at Inaki’s shoulder, Inaki dodged to the side, but Taral mid-swing threw his foot forward and slammed Inaki with the back of the hilt of his sword right on the side of Inaki’s head.

Then the man slammed the flat of his blade into Inaki’s chin. He then put his sword against Inaki’s head and said.

“I know why I didn’t kill your brother,” Taral said. “I know it all now.” Still holding his sword against Inaki’s neck, he bent down on one knee. “I give you a proposition, and it is the only way you and your brother live. Give up the sword, become monks in my monastery, and do whatever you want as long as you are willing to forsake your right arm. Is that a deal, for your life? The Tomoka will accept this as a cost to what you have done today. You won’t be prisoner, but you will never be allowed to use the sword again.” Inaki didn’t say a word.

“Hey, Taral,” Gonten screamed.

Taral looked at Gonten, and his eyes went grave. The newly born Sage stood there, and weakly screamed, “No.”

“If you don’t want to go from three sons, to two sons, to only one son, then kill my brother,” Gonten screamed.

Inaki twitched his head barely turning back, and saw that Gonten was there, heaving, but holding a boy in his hands. A young boy, barely eight or nine years old. Who was holding a wooden sword in his hand, with tears in his eyes. Gonten held the boy around the shoulders—with his one arm—with the broken piece of Inaki’s sword against the boy’s neck.