Chapter Twenty-Five
“Determination and perseverance make a warrior.” – Coach Williams
Will
Ever since witnessing the first sparring session while walking through the village, Will understood why the system had chosen this planet for their mission. The warriors' prowess and the intensity of their training sessions left an indelible impression on him. It was clear to him now. Days of sword training in a battle simulator were insignificant compared to mastering the blade. The fluidity and precision of their movements were something that could only be achieved through years of dedicated practice.
Few knew that besides football, Will also had a passion for reading. He often scoured school libraries for fantasy books—anything involving training, fighting, and cheering for a hero or a team of heroes. After the events of his childhood surrounding his dad, Will found it hard to sleep. Television and video games were too noisy, but hiding a light under his bedsheets and reading transported him to another world. These stories were filled with tales of valor, determination, and the relentless pursuit of excellence.
If he thought about it, he could attribute his reading to the insights he gained into this new world. The hero constantly adapts. The hero is always the one who trains the hardest. This is why he knew he needed more than just a little training when wielding Kenobi. Heroes in great novels dedicate their lives to their weapons, often considering them part of themselves. He remembered the countless hours he spent reading about characters who, despite overwhelming odds, honed their skills to perfection, turning their weaknesses into strengths.
While this was Will's goal, he knew he needed to be more realistic about his ambitions. Six months was a fair amount of time, but not enough considering how long it takes to become an expert in something, especially when they might have to fight something in the mountains and deal with the spreading taint across the lands. Will knew he had to improve, but he also needed to progress in his primary talent. He aspired to become something like the "sword mages" he read about in his books, envisioning the fighting he saw in the gated training fields. The combination of magic and martial skill epitomized his goal—a balance of strength, agility, and strategic thinking.
The first night was just a test. Will admitted he got lucky that the so-called leader of the warriors, Steel, was in the barracks that night. But that was all Will needed to make his move. Games, strategy, emotions, and guilt played into Will's plan to integrate with the crew. Taking a few punches was nothing. His dad had done more damage when he was younger. The pain was temporary, but having the chance to learn and move like the fighters of this tribe was a gift from the System.
After their first breakfast, the morning sun was already casting long shadows across the village as Will and Tuck made their way to the fields for the second phase of Will's plan. Will knew that Tuck would only stick around for a while. It was easy to see that the big guy wasn't as thrilled with the warriors' movements as Will was. Will couldn't blame him. Tuck's talent lay in power and dominance, not necessarily in the tactical flow of combat. However, Tuck had something to learn, and Will intended to bring him along whenever he wanted. He trusted that Tuck would push himself just as much as he did. It was Tuck's decision on the best path to get there.
Heading to the fields, Will approached the surrounding helpers and noticed Steel holding what looked like a large butcher's knife. The leader's movements were fluid and precise as he effortlessly chopped what appeared to be mangoes or papayas off a large cluster of trees. The fruits glistened under the morning sunlight, their vibrant colors reflecting the rich, fertile soil of the land. It was a sight to behold, a testament to the harmony between the villagers and their environment.
"It looks like I should be happy we chose fists last night," Will remarked, standing next to Tuck, causing the leader to look over and smile.
"Maybe, but my sister could probably heal a strike from one of these things, too. Now, four of them? I'm not so sure," Steel responded lightheartedly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"I don’t doubt it. Even after sleeping on a log, I've never felt more refreshed. That's the reason we are here. We've heard repeatedly that the kindness of the village has its limits. We were hoping you could use a few extra pairs of hands. Surge could probably help by bringing down a few trees if necessary."
"I wouldn’t quite do that, but you do learn quickly, I know that… Large weapons aren't permitted out here. Take a harvest knife over there and give me a hand. Let's see if I should keep you or pass you both to the rice paddies; they always need workers," Steel replied, nodding towards a pile of smaller, more manageable knives.
Will and Tuck, confident in their abilities, picked up the harvest knives and headed to the most densely fruited trees. They glanced at each other, sharing a silent determination, and began hacking at the tree. They continued until they had cut down a considerable amount of fruit, tossing it into a central bin. Only then did they notice the entire workforce stopped to look at them, expressions of disapproval evident on their faces.
"I had a feeling," Steel said, shaking his head slightly. "Look at your feet and then look around at everyone else."
Will glanced down, noticing branches and leaves littering the ground, with even an entire branch beneath Tuck's feet. Looking to his sides, he saw that the ground was bare, with little foliage in sight.
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"I would call what you two just did like amputating a leg when someone has a slight cut on their toe," Steel continued, causing Will and Tuck to try to hide their embarrassment. "These trees provide us with food. They harness the same energies you and I have, yet they use it to create something good for the world. It is not our place to punish them for their creation. No, we seek to cut with the minimal strike needed to do the job, nothing more."
"You have one more attempt before I send you off. Maisy over there won't like me holding favorites when it comes to the trees she's been nurturing for a century." Steel smiled and waved to a woman caught with a large frown, staring at Tuck and Will.
Tuck and Will turned back to their trees, attempting to shake off the eyes on them. Will noted that billions of viewers watching him did little to prepare him for Maisy's glares. Looking at the knife in his hand, Will noticed the dull blade and questioned himself for not grabbing a better one. He then looked at the fruit nestled within a bunch of leaves and branches, staring for a long moment to see if any path with a blade could land without a secondary hit. Thinking he had found one, he took a breath and struck upward this time, slicing the fruit off the vine and freezing his blade millimeters before the branch behind it. Picking up the fruit from the ground, he saw Tuck staring at the tree beside him. Moments later, Tuck dropped his blade, grabbing the nearest branch and plucking the fruit off the stem. Will chuckled internally but soon felt several eyes shift away from them both.
"I guess that's another way," Steel laughed, his voice hinting amusement.
"Call this next tip a favor for last night," Steel smiled and turned back to his tree but kept talking, "Every strike is a calculated risk—a risk in which you predict the damage to your opponent versus the damage thrown back your way. Or maybe, in this case, Maisy's glare… Always note the strike of least resistance and greatest impact. Look deep into where your blade is headed. Find the inconsistencies in the branches, the natural ledges, and the tree's defects. Use those to your advantage. For when you find them..." Steel slashed his blade in a lightning-quick motion, dropping the fruit into his other hand. "You should have the confidence in your attack and the willpower to handle whatever is next."
Steel didn't bother to turn back, instead moving seamlessly from his tree to the next. Meanwhile, Will and Tuck meticulously tended to their trees, each motion deliberate and careful. Despite their efforts largely unnoticed by most, Will sensed a subtle appreciation from the villagers as the hour progressed. Just as Will allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, the familiar voice echoed from behind once more.
"Until tomorrow. That's it for the day over here. Care to join us for today's real training?"
***
Will stood at the edge of the training arena, eyes fixed on Steel, who wore a self-satisfied smirk. Steel stood at the opposite end, waiting for Will to make his move. When Steel had casually asked if Will wanted to join a training session, Will hadn't realized how serious the invitation was. The short walk to the barracks had been uneventful, only a few nods exchanged with Igor and several other warriors lounging around the tables and chairs. But once they arrived, Steel had made an unexpected announcement: he intended to test Will’s combat skills.
Will had anticipated a straightforward hand-to-hand combat test and had quickly agreed. He was taken aback, however, when Steel indicated that he should keep his blade unsheathed. "No. I need to understand all your skills. Including that," Steel had said, pointing directly at Will's dual-bladed katana, Kenobi.
Steel then outlined the rules of engagement, stressing that only strikes of opportunity were allowed—no fully powered blows that could inflict serious harm or maim. As Will activated the latent power within Kenobi, ice began to form from the blue gem in the katana's center, creating a core and a sheen of frost over the edges of the Celestium blade.
Internally, Will wrestled with how much of his powers to reveal. Deciding to showcase just enough to demonstrate his proficiency without exposing his full range of abilities, he partially activated his Permafrost full-body skill. This created a solid layer of ice over his vital organs, akin to the coverage a leather armor would generally provide for a warrior. The ice, though functional, carried the faint, reflective sheen of frost.
“Shiny. Let’s see it, ice boy,” Steel taunted, drawing a few chuckles from the warriors watching from the barracks.
Will chose to remain silent. Instead, he dashed toward Steel, aiming a swift strike with Kenobi. The blade met Steel’s weapon with a resonating clang, and the smirk on Steel's face persisted. Ignoring the taunt, Will pivoted and attacked with the other edge of his katana, only to be met with the same metallic clash. Utilizing the momentum from the block, Will redirected his strikes across Steel's body, aiming to mislead and distract him. However, when he swept his blade toward Steel's feet, he found them absent from their expected position. Looking up, Will realized Steel was hovering off the ground, almost at knee level.
“Did you think I would let you keep swinging at me?” Steel asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Will's original plan dissipated. He concentrated on condensing the air around him, forming an ice platform at Steel's level. Flashing upward, Will sought an opening, his blade clashing repeatedly with Steel’s. Yet, he lost sight of his opponent once more.
“Falling for the same tricks?” Steel mocked.
Determined, Will created several ice ledges, catching up to Steel as they neared the height of the arena's fencing. Instead of striking, Will used his talents to hover above Steel, eyeing him for any openings. Steel moved horizontally, circling Will with energies forming beneath his feet, moving with an almost ethereal grace. Will tracked his movements until Steel rushed toward him with a leap. Will raised his blades to parry the strike, but Steel vanished. A sudden slash of metal tore through Will's calf, spraying blood. Steel had dropped from the sky, landing beneath Will’s footing, slashing at his leg, and reappearing on the same elevation behind him.
“That one was new. Dare to keep going?” Steel challenged.
Will pressed on, accelerating his talents until the entire arena was enveloped in a mist, allowing him to adapt more quickly to Steel's movements.
“Impressive,” Steel admitted as they circled each other, their strikes now less frequent and more calculated. Steel seemed to blend with the air and water, maneuvering through the mist as Will left sheets of ice in his wake.
As Will edged closer, Steel prepared to speak again. But before he could, Will dashed forward, blade drawn, ready to strike. He met only open air as Steel's blade sliced into his back, dragging upward. Will felt his strength fading as he plummeted from the sky, landing hard on the dirt below. His vision blurred, and darkness swiftly consumed him.