Bab 39: First Blood
"89!"
"90!"
"Guagh! Please let..."
"91!"
"92!"
"...me stop. God..."
"93!"
"94!"
"95!"
"... I'll give you a million dollars, man!"
"Shut up and push! 96!"
"97!"
"98!"
"ARGH! FUCK!"
"99!"
"And... you're done!"
Flipping upwards, Irwin fluttered about like a fish out of water. His chest heaving up and down in sheer exhaustion. He was now regretting using Brimstone Blow and exhausting his magical power earlier, for he had not expected his martial arts master to subject him to a more terrible workout routine.
His muscles tensed in agony as a burning sensation in his lungs, making even breathing a terrible experience.
Next to him, Joaquin gracefully sat on a wooden chair, holding a tabloid from yesterday. He hummed in approval, "You shaved off 30 minutes. You have gotten stronger. Like a tiger."
The approval brought a satisfying feeling within Irwin's psyche, but, as he had expected, his next comment brought him down.
"But a tiger with no claws and fang is no tiger at all." He started like a wise sage.
"That's... why I'm... here..." He replied through gritted teeth, doing his best to steady his breathing. "I had a... fight earlier... normal people... can't handle me... worried about... other people."
Joaquin put down his newspaper and gazed calmly at Irwin's fatigued form. "While I do not condone fighting for the sake of fighting, I applaud your resolve to consider your future combat scenarios."
He helped Irwin up to his feet and motioned for the latter to follow him to his office, signifying their daily training had ended. Much to Irwin's utter relief.
Irwin followed suit, massaging his reachable sore muscles. It wasn't that he didn't know about the importance of his intensive workout routine, but the fact that his master didn't even give him a chance to stretch really irked him.
Don't get him wrong, he could already feel the minuscule changes in his body, partly in thanks to his enhanced senses, and, if the training were to continue as is, could reign in and let him properly use his strength in ways he could not even imagine.
'Maybe I could even jump into tall buildings! Hell, I could modify the Flaming Whip or other fire spell and use it as a flight booster. Kinda like the Flaming Torch.' Soon these thoughts began to darken and envelop Irwin's mind as he bit his lip in excitement of what's to come.
Joaquin steeple his fingers as he made himself comfortable in his leather chair. "You hold great power, Richard, and with it... immense responsibility."
"Oh, my god," He responded almost reflexively.
"I did not mean it that way," Joaquin chuckled, having been cognizant enough to realize his words. "What I meant was that you grow stronger faster than you could build your foundation. It is not healthy and might lead to a scenario in which your opponents, whomever they may be, to utilize that to their advantage."
Irwin nodded in agreement. He knew his real opponents were hundreds of years old, some even older than time itself. He realized that the witch dealer demon he dealt with, now that he had some training of his own, was utilizing a martial art not known to man.
If that low-level demon could do that, then his peers higher in the hierarchy could do much worse. Now that he's thinking about it, this world might be more dangerous than he had seen before.
'God, damn you!' He thought wryly, 'If that's the case, then there'd be changes too in monsters' thinking. Minuscule changes in behavior that'll lead to something obvious down the line. I should watch out for that.'
"Are you saying you want me to stop whatever I'm doing to get stronger?" He asked with genuine curiosity.
"In a perfect world: yes," Joaquin gave a weary sigh, before he stood from his seat and faced the blades hanging in his office. "What you need now is a weapon. One that will grow with you. Until, of course, you have enough time to stabilize your foundation without sacrificing your potential."
"I don't think we have enough of a relationship for you to be so sentimental?" Irwin japed, his form lounging unceremoniously on the soft couch. "Am I… oh, my god… are you adopting me?"
"Nay, nor am I the sentimental type." Joaquin drew a flier from under his desk and gave it to Irwin. He then went back towards the hanging scimitars. "I have been learning about your family."
Irwin skimmed the flier before chuckling to himself. "Wolf's Bane. Used to kill a few of my clan members."
"You will use that bastard sword as your main weapon. You will train with it, bleed with it, sleep with it, and die with it." Joaquin took the scimitars from out its hooks, feeling the weight of the gilded blades.
"What? Do you want me to steal it?" He waved the flier around.
"No, I expect you to buy it." Joaquin replied. "I have told you, Richard, I have been learning about your family."
Irwin puffed up his cheeks, contemplating Joaquin's words. "Alright, I mean I think we have more valuable items in the basement that I could trade with them."
"Good, but before that," Joaquin nodded and placed one of the scimitars in front of Irwin, the latter quizzically gazing at him. "We fight!"
●●●Second Floor Training Pit●●●
Two men stood five meters away from each other, both holding a golden scimitar. Their half-naked form taut in anticipation for the upcoming fight.
Their blades glinting against the bright lights of the ceiling fixtures. Both were, of course, blunted by the years of disuse.
Joaquin had the curved blades forged during his tour of Mongolia. In fact, it was quite a deal since he had saved the blacksmith's daughter from marauders. Of course, the blade being lined with gold, it still took a considerable chunk of his savings.
That's why he had to build his dojo in Southern California
"At the bell." Joaquin said, breathing in and out to keep his circulation steady. It had been a long time since he had wielded the scimitar. For so long, he had only been confined to practice swords, the straight ones. It'll be great to be unleashed once more.
Richard, on the other hand, changed his grip every few seconds. He could tell the Greythorne heir was not that familiar with the curved blade's proportions.
A disadvantage he ought to seize once he had his fun.
Suddenly, a dull DONG! Resounded across the training grounds.
Richard rushed forward, feigning an upward offensive strike, but Joaquin could see how taut his dominant leg was.
Joaquin brandished his own blade, meeting Richard's head-on, while blocking the latter's follow-up front kick.
Richard was forced back, quickly stabilizing himself. He didn't rush forward again, instead opting to circle around Joaquin.
Joaquin smirked, following his student's lead as he too circled around the pit. "You are telegraphing."
He stepped forward and swung his scimitar with two hands, but his opponent, quite unsurprisingly, only needed one to parry his attack.
But Joaquin did not falter, following his first attack with a horizontal slash using the back of his scimitar. Richard leaped backwards, before pushing in and tackling Joaquin with his free hand as a crutch.
The two tumbled into the pit, sand blowing into the air from the force of their crashing.
Joaquin had thrown away his scimitar, knowing full well of his disadvantage in a fistfight. He leveraged his waist, grappling his opponent's head and flipping him to the bottom.
He knew Richard was expecting him to engage in a blow-for-blow, so he hopped off the man. He quickly grabbed his sword and crouched a few meters away from him.
"Didn't peg you for a pussy!" Richard taunted, shaking his head to dust off the sand. A curse of the luscious hair.
"I would prefer to be called a chicken, if you would." He responded politely. Joaquin scanned his foe's movement, not yet attacking him in his shaken form.
Richard stood up, forming a basic Eastern sword stance, one he had taught him.
Joaquin did as well. But before the two could move, another dull DONG! rang, signifying the end of the round.
"Ain't 30 seconds a bit short?" Richard asked, stretching his muscles as he moved towards the water cooler.
"You had just finished your routine. I would not want you to strain yourself, no matter how deft you are in that regard." He responded, steadying his breathing.
"Here you go." Richard returned with a cup in hand. "So, if I beat you… I'm good enough for the Wolf's Bane?"
"Thank you," He took the cup and drank it in one go, satiating his thirst. "No, this spar is to check your basics with the sword. That way, when you retrieve the sword, you will have a semblance of how to use it."
"Rest up." He went towards the bell and reseted it. "Be ready for round 2."
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
Millan_Grimm
Millan_Grimm End of the Daily Trial. I'll decide wheter or not to continue or resume the longer, but every other day, chapters.
If you have any thoughts, then feel free to comment!
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone