Inaki spent the next few weeks in training. He didn’t have a trainer, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He lived as Yotta-son-Yusuke of Trina, and spent the coin he had brought with him.

He barely ate, barely slept, just was out in the garden of the inn he was staying at. It was a small garden, almost only there for a namesake. He had nobody to train him, and no materials to train with, so he just did what he always did. He practiced his katas, practiced his stances, and did nothing else. There was a tree in that garden, and that became Inaki’s usual sparring partner.

He didn’t know how that would help him, but he wasn’t going to sit idle. In the entire rest of the month, Inaki didn’t go back to ask Takehito for forgiveness. He didn’t ask him to take him back. Inaki thought he was better than that, knew he was better than that. Inaki would go through with his plan regardless.

“You’ll die,” Hassai whispered as Inaki swung his sword in the garden. He was wearing robes which were still tattered from his two days of training with Takehito and he was still slightly bruised and had the scar which he gave himself out of fear.

He kept his hair loose to make sure that he could maintain the facade of being Yotta, and not being caught as being Inaki, but it was an annoyance, coming in front of his eyes.

I know I probably will. Inaki thought. I just rather die with my honor.

There were two days left before the date that Taral had given Inaki before war would arrive. Inaki didn’t feel ready at all.

“You are so arrogant,” Hassai said. “Arrogance is the necklace of the competent. For the incompetent it is a noose around their neck.”

Inaki sat down in the garden. He had imagined himself tangibly improving in this month of grueling training. He imagined that he’d feel different from before, but he felt exactly the same, only thing was he felt a little sleep deprived.

I should spend the next few days resting, so I’ll feel fresh.

Inaki stepped into the inn, and slept from afternoon till the next morning, his first good night of sleep in almost an entire month.

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

Taral sat at the grave of his father.

Sages weren’t buried in the usual way. Their bodies were used as molds for sculptures made of the most precious metals that the kingdom had to offer.

Taral hadn’t yet announced the death of Godin, and he hadn’t yet announced that he could not ascend to Sage. Lying about being Sage when you hadn’t really reached that phase was a crime worse than killing innocents. That was because the people trusted their Sage, violation of that trust was as good as having their blood in your hands.

Taral now sat in the lavish Ancestor’s Hall in the castle, where his father’s statue, with his real corpse inside it was there. The room had rows and rows of statues climbing up to the first Sage of the Yaroka, more than a hundred years ago. The clan had been conquered, destroyed, and revived, and had survived so many different calamities, yet Taral felt that he would never get the chance for a statue of him to adorn these walls.

“Please help me,” Taral said, praying at his father’s statue’s feet. Taral did not feel like a Platinum, the near-pinnacle of swordsmanship. Instead he felt like he was weighed down to Gold by responsibility.

Even if he wasn’t a sage, he would be managing administration now. He had told the council appointed by his father to retire, and that he would be taking charge, and began his work.

He hadn’t known exactly how much work it took. The people had complaints, roads needed to be fixed, sewage needed to be managed. In the entire month, nobody had found Inaki. Taral was sure that he was still in the city. At first Taral had hated that boy, so much so that Taral had forsaken his vow of non-violence to attack him. Now Taral felt differently.

At that point, Taral didn’t even care anymore. He felt empty. Like a shell. In his nearly fifty years, he had killed so many people that had wronged him, that he wondered, what would it mean to kill one more person. Taral remembered the haunted face of that boy all those years ago as his grandfather the Uogin spear-sage slowly bled to death. He remembered how his rage had made him blind to even a child’s suffering if he considered him a part of the enemy. No, I won’t kill him.

Taral stepped out of the Ancestor’s Hall and walked into the court of the castle, he sat down on the chair just next to the Sage’s Throne and said, “Let the rumors be quelled, for the Sword-Sage of the Yaroka, Godin Yaroka has passed.”

The different members of the court were shocked, not at the news, but that Taral was announcing it.

“Messenger, send for Tomoka as fast as you can. Tell them that everything is forgiven, and that I apologize for my actions in Tomoka, for I was just an emotional father.”

Taral spoke with practiced flatness and had hoped that he came off like he was still a stately ruler, and not an emotional wreck who had just lost his son and father in the same month.

What is the point of living? Taral thought. They’re all just going to die anyway.

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

Inaki was ready. It was the night before Taral said that he would wage war on the Tomoka, and now Inaki would make sure that the Yaroka could never wage war ever again. After all, news had spread that their Sage had died. Inaki usually ignored rumors, so he only acknowledged it when it became official. Inaki bought better robes, and tied his hair back, he trimmed down his beard, and began looking like he used to before.

He walked to Yaroka castle. All he had with him was his wooden practice sword, his long knife—in its sheath under his robe—and he had the will to destroy the Yaroka completely.

He walked up to the gate, and stepped up to the guards who were standing outside the gate. There were two of them, and in hand they had metal swords. They were Silvers, where most swordsmen of the world peaked.

“Hello,” Inaki said to the guards.

“You have any business with the Yaroka?” The guard said. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“Oh, I am not,” Inaki said. “What if I told you that you have been looking for me for a while.”

“Who are you?” One of the guards said.

“My name is Inaki-son-Hassai Tomoka, and I have come here to challenge Taral-son-Godin Yaroka.”

“Don’t let him leave,” The guard screamed.

“When did I say I planned on leaving.”

Inaki drew his practice sword and dodged the first guard who tried to grab him. He slashed his sword and hit the man who tried to grab him in the back of the head. He hit the ground and didn’t get up.

The other guard rushed at Inaki, this time the man rushed at him with his sword, but in no proper stance. The man struck. Inaki blocked with the flat of his wooden blade. If he had blocked with the side of his blade, then it would be easier for the man to cut through his sword.

Inaki stepped forward, shoved the hilt of his sword in the man’s stomach. The man twisted and slashed at Inaki’s face, but his balance was off. His slash ended up hitting Inaki on the forehead, exactly where Taral had slashed Inaki before their duel all those weeks ago.

The man hit the ground, and rolled back and stood up. Inaki held his sword straight and looked him in the eye and said, “You don’t deserve the band of silver on the hilt of your sword.”

The man didn’t speak, he stepped forward and slashed at Inaki, Inaki once again swatted it away with the flat of his blade, but then the man kicked Inaki, Inaki dodged. The guard began screaming about Inaki’s presence, and stepped back.

Inaki jumped ahead and slashed at the man, trying to take control of the fight. The man blocked and dodged, and then went to attack. He struck, an upwards strike downwards

The most vulnerable moment for anyone in any fight is when they try to attack. Inaki stepped forward, into the strike instead of away from it, and pressed his sword on the man’s sword. Inaki twisted his sword over the man’s sword and hit the man in the neck, then slashed upwards hitting him in the chin then slammed his sword into the man’s ribs.

Inaki heard him taking his painful last breath, then his life fade away. He stepped forward to pick up the man’s sword. No, I will defeat these scum with my wooden sword. Inaki wished he could carry the sword with him, to use when he was fighting against Taral himself, but didn’t have sheath to carry it in.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Inaki opened the gate and stepped in. Inaki entered the Yaroka compound, and felt excited to reach the temple where they trained. Unlike the Tomoka, the Yaroka’s training temple was in the castle itself. But unfortunately, Inaki had no clue where it was in the large castle compound.

“Who’s there,” Someone screamed. “Who allowed you in.”

The compound was a wide field with a stone path leading up to the castle, with a grass field everywhere else. Lamp-posts gave scanty light—fires in the lamps blinking, as if they would be gone soon—and in that light, Inaki could see that the man who had come out had Iron on the hilt of his sword.

Inaki didn’t want to fight these scum unless absolutely necessary, he only wanted to fight the mightiest of them. Which is why he stepped forward, revealing his face in the light and said, “My name is Inaki-son-Hassai Tomoka, and I am here to challenge Taral-son-Godin Yaroka to a duel for my honor.”

“Inaki,” The man said. “Guys, he’s here.”

The Iron screamed, and a bunch of people ran out. “Thanks for making our work easier.”

Inaki stood with his sword in his hand, not even using any stance.

“We were just about to leave to look for you. The master is shaken up because of the passing of Lord Sage Godin, that is why he issued the apology,” One of the Irons said.

“Apology?” Inaki asked. He had thought it was just a rumor.

“Well, we’re just going to kill you in the name of the master,” the Irons said.

“A pack of Yaroka Irons are going to hound one boy without a steel blade,” Inaki said.

“You can’t fool us,” The Irons said. “We know your skill.”

Now that they had announced their intentions, Inaki decided that he would have no mercy.

There were five Irons who stood there. Five Irons would be the equivalent of half a Silver, but numbers would still mean some difficulty.

Inaki rushed at them, not giving them the time to attack him first. He swung his wooden sword. The Iron in front of him dodged, but another Iron stepped forward and slashed at Inaki, Inaki jumped back, but still got a shallow wound on his stomach.

They surrounded him in a circle, and rushed in at him. He felt like he was being suffocated as they slashed at him. He felt his back being slashed, but blocked all strikes to his front. They were so incompetent that they all fought in a rhythm that Inaki had picked up and could predict easily, which is why he dodged all strikes to his back that would kill him.

Inaki spun his sword and slashed, hitting the Iron in front of him in the face. He fell down, giving Inaki a brief exit from the circle he was stuck in.

Inaki jumped out, and rolled on the ground. Inaki rushed at them. One of the four remaining Irons slashed at him, but Inaki swatted his sword away and slammed his sword into the man’s neck. Inaki then stepped under another strike and stabbed his sword into the man’s ribs. Wooden swords didn’t kill as elegantly as steel blades. Inaki heard their bones crack, and them struggle on the ground, as they died from the inside.

The last two began stepping back from him, scared.

“You can’t attack a lone boy without even a steel blade and expect to just leave when you lose,” Inaki said. “If anyone finds out how your friends here passed, their families will be mocked everywhere. So what do you want, death, or dishonor.”

“Death,” One of them said, and “Dishonor,” The other one said. Inaki let the coward run away. He became a blur, stepped to the one who wished for death and hit him in the back of the head just so he would faint, not killing him. Leaving a few survivors would be good for Inaki’s reputation.

Inaki continued following the stone path forward. Some places did not have enough light, which is why he slashed at one of the lamp-posts, dropping the lantern. He caught it in his hand and began his walk towards the castle proper.

The courtyard was extremely wide, but soon, Inaki was there, at the door of the castle. There were guards standing there too.

Seeing that Inaki was covered in blood, the guards didn’t think twice, and rushed at Inaki.

“I want to challenge Taral-son-Godin Yaroka,” Inaki said. “I am not here to fight you.”

One of the guards was a Silver, and the other was a Gold. Inaki couldn’t go around fighting Golds and still be in fighting shape when he reached Taral.

“Who did you attack,” One of the guards asked, cautious with his sword raised.

“A bunch of Irons swarmed me, and two Silver guards,” Inaki said.

“Did you kill them,” The man asked.

“Don’t know, didn’t check,” Inaki said.

“He killed Yonon and Solon,” The Gold guard began tearing up on the mention of the two Silver guards.

“They had names?” Inaki said. Placing the lantern he had in his hand on the ground.

Inaki jumped forward and blocked with his wooden sword, diverting the man’s sword away, then he forward jumped, pushing him onto the ground. He then quickly got up and began running into the castle.

The two swordsmen chased him, screaming for him to stop. Inaki looked behind, and saw that there were no more swordsmen coming for him.

“Where are the rest of your men,” Inaki said.

Their silence could only mean one thing. They were sleeping, or had gone out.

“If you give yourself in now, we won’t kill you,” The Gold said. “You have potential to be a great swordsman, don’t ruin it.”

Inaki stepped forward, raising his wooden sword into the air, repeating without even having to say it, that he wasn’t even a proper swordsman yet.

“Are a Silver and a Gold going to ambush me at once?” Inaki asked.

“Yes,” The Gold said. “This is not a duel, this is an arrest.”

“Very well then,” Inaki said.

So far he hadn’t even been fighting with proper stances, just slashing as if it was nothing, but when fighting against a gold, he would need a little more discipline.

He stood in Bullstance, ready to charge the minute the two swordsmen stepped even an inch closer to him.

They rushed at him at once. The Gold was fast, reaching Inaki in an instant. Inaki could only dodge back, as the speedy slash came, but it still caught him in the arm, making a wound just below his elbow.

Inaki winced in pain. The Gold smiled and stepped forward. He slashed upwards, but Inaki used the Bullstances charge and went under his sword. The man looked confused when Inaki appeared under him. Inaki raised his sword up, nearly catching the man in the chin, but he stepped backwards, and kicked Inaki in the face.

Inaki hit the ground on his back.

The Silver ran at Inaki and slashed down at the ground, Inaki rolled and jumped onto his feet. It was a continuous onslaught, the Gold catching Inaki’s attention, while the Silver would try to get in the hits while he was preoccupied.

Inaki was getting cut up. If he continued this way, then he wouldn’t be able to be in good enough shape to face a Platinum.

“You’re struggling with us,” The Gold said. “How do you even hope to step into an arena with our master?”

Inaki blocked a strike from the Silver, kicking him in the shin. He hit the ground in pain. Inaki was about to end the Silver, but the Gold’s sword protected him.

“You’re a monster,” The Silver said. “How is this possible?”

“You have squandered your talent,” The Gold said. “You will definitely die here.”

Inaki tackled the man, dropping him to the ground once again. He was too tired to speak. His whole body was being spent just trying to keep up. His lungs burnt like a furnace as he wrestled with the Gold, holding his sword arm, making sure that he couldn’t move it. The Silver came and slashed down, Inaki tried his best to spin the man so that the Goldwould be on top, and the Silver’s sword would hit the Gold, but he was too weak. Regardless of his prowess with the sword, he was still a light weakling.

Inaki jumped, hitting the ground. He quickly stood up. The Gold, Silver, and Inaki stood, circling each other.

Once more the Gold jumped forward. The man slashed at Inaki, Inaki knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer if he had to fight anymore fights after this. He acted as if he was going to block the slash, but then, he dropped his sword.

The man’s slash went wild, fully expecting the resistance from Inaki’s sword. Inaki took that opportunity to punch the Gold in the face.

Inaki took the opportunity to grab the man’s sword arm, the Silver rushed at Inaki while he was holding the Gold’s sword arm. Inaki dodged a strike, and kicked him in the stomach.

Inaki then kicked the Gold in the balls, dropping him. Inaki quickly retrieved his own wooden sword, and hit the Gold in the head.

The Silver stood up, shaking in his boots.

“How,” The Silver asked once again. “How does a boy like you defeat a Gold?”

“I am the son of Hassai, who became Sage at your age.”

Inaki stepped forward dodging the man’s last, desperate strike, and then landed a blow on his neck. It snapped. The man gurgled, and fell to the ground.

Inaki felt too tired. There was no way he would be able to take on the Platinum in his current state. He picked up his lantern—which was still outside of the castle—and then stepped back into the empty dark castle.

Inaki limped forward, he needed a place to hide for a few minutes, where he could catch a breath. The entrance hall of the castle was filled with pictures of the previous Sage of the Yarokas, and their swords at the base of the paintings.

Inaki began climbing up the stairs, not knowing where to go. He knocked on a door, and got no response. So he stepped in, put the latch and sat down.

He was sitting inside a closet, filled with women’s clothes. It would be a suitable enough space for him to sit for sometime.

He heard the noise of footsteps. Inaki lurched where he was sitting and pressed his ear against the door.

“Inaki is here,” One of the men screamed. “He’s in the castle, and he’s killed a Gold, he killed Jurohin.”

Inaki just sat there, enjoying the few moments of rest he had now, before he had to run out, and challenge more swordsmen to fight before he could get the chance to fight the man he had come to fight.