First impressions are everything.
They probably shouldn’t be, given that it takes a long time to fully understand someone, but they are, and Ryuna, well aware that that was how the world operated, had honed her ability to make a good first impression like a muscle, and she had plenty of those, too.
She was so good at it, that not even stumbling into a remote village in a foreign land amidst harsh weather conditions, whose culture was so opposed to her own, while hiding the details of her arrival, was enough to trip her up for even a second.
She stuck out like a sore thumb walking into Welca, from her build to her clothes and body language. The villagers appeared shorter on average, with the tallest of the men still a few inches below six feet in height, and many of the women barely hitting five. The majority seemed to be on the thin side, and most of them sported brighter hair colors — blonde, white, gray, even some red here and there. Their apparel was largely just functional cloth and leather in muted browns and grays, which matched most of their eye colors as well.
In comparison, Ryuna, standing at five-foot-nine-inches tall, was in the top percentile of height, and her muscles and curves gave her a bigger build than just about everyone as well. Her clothes were much more flashy and colorful, and her bright green eyes gave her even more visual pop. And while most of the villagers appeared to skitter around from place to place, Ryuna strolled around like she owned the place no matter where she went. Really, the only thing about her that wasn’t the bright sunny day to Welca’s new moon night was her black hair, but with how stylish she liked to keep her bob, it ultimately didn’t matter that the color was more plain.
Immediately upon stepping foot into the village, a crowd of the locals had gathered around her, with many of them wearing expressions of surprise and intrigue on their faces, particularly the kids and teenagers. The older ones looked a bit more apprehensive, but after just a few short moments of explanation, the villagers welcomed Ryuna with open arms, happily escorting her to the home of the village chief.
The buildings in Welca were much nicer than one might expect given how rustic the place looked from the outside. The chief’s home had a whopping six rooms, all spread out on ground level. The interior was warm, and lit nicely with candles. His wife was in the middle of cooking, so the air was saturated with spices.
The chief led Ryuna to the back-most room. “Feel free to use this room, my dear!” he said as he gestured her inside. She was a bit surprised to see that it was bigger than her own room back home at her parents’ apartment. There were two beds on opposite ends, although only one of those beds appeared to be regularly in use. “You’ll have to share it with my eldest daughter, Kisana. May I ask how old you are?”
“Nineteen.”
“Ah, I see. She’s just one year younger than you. She doesn’t like to talk much, but feel free to ask her or anyone else if you need help.”
Ryuna gave him her well-practiced warm, bright smile in appreciation. It was one of her most effective weapons, capable of critically striking even the most moody of grouches. “Thank you so much, sir! The room is lovely!”
After dropping her luggage off in the room, she was invited to dinner with the rest of the family. There was, of course, the village chief, Bron, and his lovely wife, Lina. She was then introduced to their eldest daughter, Kisana, the next oldest boy, Vin, the twin girls Elle and Chelle, their next son Paol, and the newest addition to their family, Ria, one month fresh out the oven.
There’s never really a good way to meet a big family, is there? No matter how hard you or they try, there’s always some missing context that makes it difficult to come to a full understanding. You start to mix up names, you forget that one or two of them exist, one of them gives you bad vibes, and there’s only so much enthusiasm you can provide upon hearing the interesting fun fact about every single one of them.
But dinner didn’t last too long, at least, and the food was quite good. Her own mother Fuu had always enjoyed cooking for the family, but her health issues often prevented her from being able to do so. Ryuna herself was often so busy working or training that she never really learned how to cook, usually defaulting to grabbing some fast food instead, so home-cooked meals were a real treat for her.
Afterwards, Ryuna washed up and headed to the guest room to get ready for bed, pleased with herself for how well her visit to Welca had gone. When explaining her situation to the villagers, she kept the woman’s warning about disclosing her relation to the monastery, and instead devised a different backstory about being a backpacking tourist exploring the continent. It seemed to work well enough. Visitors were a true rarity, and the villagers seemed particularly pleased when she told them she loved how beautiful the nature in the area was; it seemed to be a source of pride for them.
When she arrived at the guest room, Kisana was already inside, sitting on her bed, thumbing through a magazine. The magazine caught the eye quite strongly, as the vibe the rest of the village gave off didn’t feel like it would support them, but Ryuna chalked it up to their relative close proximity to Ermina or something.
“Hey, Kisana!” she greeted. “Whatcha reading?”
The girl seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face. She didn’t speak during dinner, and her face was a stone mask of sheer annoyance. Not that uncommon for an eighteen-year-old, really. It carried over into her tone of voice, too. “Kizzy.”
Ryuna slid under the covers of the guest bed. “Kizzy? Never heard of it. What’s it about?”
If Ryuna had bothered to look over, she would see the other girl perform the most cartoonishly-exaggerated, dramatic eye roll. “I’m Kizzy.”
“Oh, is that what you prefer to be called?”
“‘Kisana’’s a stupid name.”
That comment pulled a giggle from Ryuna’s lips. “I see. Well, I like it! It’s cute.” She rolled onto her side, and threw the blanket over herself. “Night then, Kizzy!”
“Mhm.”
* * * *
ULTRA DRAGON
* * * *
Ryuna was up bright and early the next morning to make the trek back up to the monastery. The only one else awake in the house was Lina, who greeted her and offered some fruit for breakfast. To explain her upcoming absence for the next few hours, Ryuna told her that she was going to go hiking around the mountains, and would be back later in the day, prompting Lina to hurriedly pack her some lunch as well.
The overnight snowfall had blanketed the mountains in white, but thankfully not much of it was ice. The hike up the mountain was much harder than coming down towards Welca, but since Ryuna kept herself active and in great shape, it wasn’t much of a bother to her. It helped that she was excited about returning to the monastery to train, as well, motivating her every step.
There was, again, a fairly large crowd outside the monastery, although it was a thinner herd than the day before. Before long, though, the doors to the monastery opened, and the crowd began to shrink.
This time, Ryuna was actually able to get inside, although the place was quite packed by the time she did. The interior of the monastery wasn’t any more visually interesting than the outside; more stone walls with no design furnishings. The only real difference between the outside and the inside was the warmer air.
The woman from yesterday directed everyone to head to a wide-open room with a tall ceiling. They were further instructed to form a perimeter around the walls of the room, focusing their attention towards the center of the rectangle they had assembled.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
From the doorway on the opposite side of the entrance came a trio of monks, most important of which was the famed Master Kirin herself. She immediately commanded presence, and many members of the crowd instinctually bowed their heads as she walked into the room.
She was tall, probably around six-and-a-half-feet, but was on the lankier rather than bulkier side. Most of her body was covered in a beautifully-woven robe of dark green and white, but no robes could hide her long, scaled face, her ebony antlers, or her mane of silver hair.
The three arrived beside the woman from before, bowing to one another. The woman then began to address the crowd.
“Welcome, everyone, to the Vorga Monastery,” she said. “My apologies for what happened yesterday; we were not prepared for so many of you to show up, and thus could not house you all here.”
Ryuna was only half-paying attention to the woman’s speech. From the tone of her voice, she could tell the first few sentences weren’t going to be relevant to the main message, leaving her free to zone it out for a bit. Instead, her eyes wandered over to Master Kirin. She’d never actually seen her before, not even in photographs, but she looked….strong. Strong enough to tickle her competitive fighting itch….
“….Master Kirin will only take one of you under her wing as her next disciple,” said the woman as Ryuna metaphorically adjusted the volume knob. “And thus, as is tradition, a competition will be held to determine which of you prospective students will become that disciple.
“Across the next few days, you will all be paired off to participate in duels. Should you lose your duel, you will be eliminated from the competition, and will not be able to proceed further. This will continue until the winner of the competition is determined, and that winner will earn the right to become Master Kirin’s disciple.”
The next few seconds were silent, allowing the woman’s words to sink in properly. There were no major reactions from the crowd, but there was a definite uptick in tension.
The woman continued. “Would any of you like to participate in the first duel?”
“Yup!”
Ryuna pushed her way through the crowd, strolling into the center of the room. Naturally, all eyes gravitated to her in the process. She stepped up to Master Kirin first, bowing her head slightly in her direction. “Master Kirin. I look forward to learning from you.”
“Confident, are we?” came the response. Her voice was almost….watery.
Flashing a confident smile, Ryuna nodded her head. Offering to go first in a situation like this was a gamble, but one with a high payoff. Separating from the crowd, turning the spotlight onto yourself; it was the best way to pull ahead of the pack, and make the strongest first impression possible. Of course, confidently going first always comes with the risk of looking like a joke in defeat, but Ryuna wasn’t worried about that. She was never worried, really. She couldn’t afford to be.
The ever-so-slight upward movement of the directing woman’s eyebrows tipped off that she recognized Ryuna from before, and this move here was adding to her image of her. “And what is your name?”
“Ryuna!” said you-know-who, loudly and clearly to each pair of ears in the monastery.
The woman looked to the crowd once more. “Would anyone like to challenge Ryuna in the first duel of the day?”
A challenger did indeed step forward. He was tall and well-muscled, with scars dotting his arms. He was wearing mixed martial arts gear, and had an appropriate swagger to the way he moved his shoulders to warm them up. He looked tough, for sure. In my opinion, anyway. Ryuna likely wouldn’t agree.
“And what is your name?”
“Winslow Wing.” It was a name that Ryuna, as well as a few other members of the crowd, recognized. He was a professional fighter with a first-punch knockout streak that put butts in seats (and hospital beds, but those were two different groups, thankfully). While she hadn’t been fazed by his physical build, hearing his name helped awaken her a bit to the level of competition she was dealing with in the monastery.
“Very well, then,” the woman said, stepping back. “Master Kirin will call for the end of the duel, unless one of you forfeits beforehand. Do not use lethal force, and be careful of your fellow competitors in the room.”
Master Kirin’s voice then took over. “Begin!”
Ryuna shot across the room in a flash, immediately landing a thunderous kick against the blocking arm of Winslow. The sound was reminiscent of a gun firing off. Winslow had a reputation for being incredibly tough, tanking every single hit from his opponent until he was able to nab his victory-claiming knockout punch. His game plan here was the same — weather the storm, close the distance, and BAM!
Ryuna was also aware of Winslow’s fighting style, and wasn’t about to let him add her to his list of W’s. She’d fought giant hulks of muscle before, but from how solid of a wall his blocking arm was, Winslow was clearly a different caliber of brute.
She could probably pull out one of her elemental Installs and end the fight then — Earth or Water in particular could probably cinch the match in one or two hits — but her pride wouldn’t let her. Other than his knockout streak, what helped Winslow attract so many fans was the fact that he had been born with a forcelock that prevented him from using ULTRA Force and Installs, putting him at a great disadvantage against many of his opponents, and everyone loves an underdog.
Ryuna respected that. Not having access to the same resources as everyone else is a tough hand to be dealt. Plus, when you’re the one with the advantage, winning with it was never satisfying, especially not for Ryuna.
No, she was going to beat him with superior skill. No Installs, no ULTRA Force, and no chi, either. Just fighting skill, instinct, and physicality, and she was the one at the disadvantage in the latter.
She dashed around at an off-angle and spun around into a sequence of two piston kicks with the bottom of her foot. The first actually found an opening, striking Winslow in the ribs, but his arm was able to catch the second, and he didn’t appear particularly hurt by the attack.
Keeping on the move to help ward off the knockout punch, Ryuna danced around in a half-circle, throwing out a sequence of kicks and elbows at various levels of elevation, making good use of her superior speed to outpace Winslow’s blocks. It was a bit of a tedious strategy akin to whittling away at stone with a tiny pick, but it was her only real option for now.
Winslow suddenly stepped forward, throwing his shoulder ahead like a battering ram. Ryuna was momentarily surprised by the move, as it broke his usual pattern, but she soon realized that it was a feint intended to bait her into repositioning into his actual incoming knockout punch.
She only had the most narrow window of space to work with. As she leaned backward to avoid the shoulder, she threw all of her weight into readjusting into a sort of falling twist, narrowly ducking beneath Winslow’s heavy fist. She then kicked off of the floor with her one grounded foot, throwing herself away to ensure that Winslow couldn’t then follow up with a second punch while she was evading.
Though the punch hadn’t connected with her, Ryuna could still clearly feel the power behind it, and knew that if it struck her, she was done for. To help reclaim her composure, she looked Winslow dead in the eye with a smirk. “Ooh, was that your famous one-hit KO punch? Did I just break your streak by dodging it?”
Anger lit up in Winslow’s eyes, but he was never one to be fully swayed by taunts — rather than slip up and bark back, he always focused on the fight. It was a trait that kept him out of trouble, and kept the wins coming.
But Ryuna never needed her opponent to respond; she had no problem whatsoever running a one-woman trash talk show. “But if you’ve already shown me everything you’ve got, then I guess there’s no reason to keep dragging this thing out, right?”
With a wide grin, she held her arms out to her sides, flicking her fingers toward herself. “Come on, big boy! Let’s end this!”
Winslow did advance towards her, but not uncharacteristically — he stalked forward to close the gap for his punch and nothing more. He didn’t overextend or unnecessarily speed himself up. It was the same disciplined movement he always did.
Ryuna, on the other hand, did change her style. Rather than be the aggressor, she opted to stand still and wait for her opponent to come to her. Stinging him with the occasional punch and kick wasn’t going to put him down (at least not this century), so she needed a different approach in order to beat him. Instead of racing around, she would face him head-on.
As Winslow moved forward, Ryuna dropped her hands lower and lower until they were practically hanging by her sides lackadaisically. Not enough so that it clearly looked like she was setting up some sort of trap, but enough to get her body into the right sense of flow.
Just as he came into range, Ryuna whipped her arm forward into an off-angled jab. Winslow, however, was ready, stepping in and taking the punch full-on. It didn’t matter to him; he knew it wasn’t going to throw him off; he didn’t even feel anything from it. All he felt was the spark — the mental spark that told him that it was the time to swing. To take that lunging haymaker that had ended rounds, fights, and careers.
Ryuna wasn’t moving, and she wasn’t fast enough to suddenly dodge outside of Winslow’s range. He had her boxed-in, and her committal to her own attack fully locked her within that range. She couldn’t dodge the punch this time.
But dodging was never her intention.
Indeed, Ryuna knew that the only chance she had at taking down Winslow was by investing in the same opportunity of attack that he did. It was the only time when he would be vulnerable to attack, as well as unable to attack back. That time, of course, was when he was throwing his knockout punch.
As Winslow threw the punch, Ryuna’s rear hand arced around, flowing through the air like a river carried by the wind. She snapped her forearm directly into the wrist of her opponent’s incoming fist with pinpoint precision.
She carried the momentum of the parry with conviction, deflecting the punch past her by a hair. In the same motion, she put all of her strength into the hand she had thrown her flickering jab with. With how close it already was to Winslow’s face, it was able to put his jaw in the scope with ease.
Pulling the trigger, Ryuna sent out one powerful palm thrust, knocking Winslow’s lights out.