It had been six months since Desai took in Bale. In those six months, Bale has not only recovered, but he had improved. His frail body gained some definition, with his muscles becoming nice and firm and evident. Though he was still slim, he now held a good physique, one fit for someone who took care of their body on a daily basis. His strength was much better, his stamina greatly improved, and his speed enhanced. All this had been accomplished through the tasks that Desai had given him over the months.
Desai was also surprised at the speed at which Bale improved. He had seen many before this man who were geniuses in their own right, who could improve at a faster than normal rate, but none as fast as Bale.
The only drawback was that Bale only had a single arm in which he could use to accomplish his tasks. He took a little longer than others because he had to figure out how to do his task with just one arm and hand, whereas others didn't need to since they had both. Yet, he always accomplished them.
Desai, in turn, allowed Bale to stay with him even though he had long since recovered. Though he wouldn't openly say it, he wanted to see how far the man could improve.
On his days where he finished his tasks early, Bale would take up his sword and practice. He knew his practice was crude and inelegant, but what could he do? He had no teacher, and no one in the neighborhood that knew swordsmanship would willingly teach him. What could they teach him? All their techniques were meant to be used with two hands, but he only had one. He wasn't dismayed, however. He simply practiced all the more fervently.
Desai would watch this man day after day, quietly. His swordsmanship was shit, but there was potential. Desai didn't say a word, though. He simply continued to watch silently.
"Your sword skills are dismal," Desai commented one day as he sat in his chair, watching Bale practice yet again. The man had been at it for a few hours, and was covered in sweat. He looked over at Desai, slightly panting and pointed his sword at the old man. "Me? Ha! Nope. Not happening. Before you ask why, I'll tell ya," Desai began. They had developed their own sort-of communication. Certain gestures and signals would mean different things, depending on when they were used. "It's simple, really. I don't know the sword, therefore I wouldn't be able to teach you. However, I COULD teach you the spear. The style is similar, but because you don't have two hands, it's basically useless to you."
Desai stood up and approached Bale. "However, not everything is about handling the weapon. Put down the sword, I'm going to teach you the basis of spear-handling, then you'll understand. At least, you should..." He half muttered that last part.
Doing as he was told, Bale sheathed the blade, then returned to stand in front of Desai.
"You see, it's all about your body and how well you can control it. Most people will tell you that all forms of martial arts are fundamentally different, but I disagree. In my not-so-humble opinion, those people are full of shit. If you strip away the fancy punches and footwork, what are you left with? Your left with body control. Whether it's learning to control your own body or manipulate your opponents, it boils down to who has more control over their overall mass. Things such as your fists and feet, elbows, your knees - even your head - they are all just tools used to control the flow of your body and direct it in a particular fashion."
Bale soaked this information up. He listened intently and watched as Desai demonstrated what he meant.
"If you throw a punch, a normal punch, there is no real force behind it. However, when you leverage that with your body, using your body as the force to propel the punch forward, it has significantly more weight to it." Desai demonstrated his words with actions, the first being that of a normal punch. He took a simple stance, legs spread shoulder-width apart, then threw forward a jab. He glanced at Bale, then once again took up his stance, but where he positioned his feet changed. He placed one foot ahead of the other while still keeping them shoulder-width apart, he turned his upper torso a bit, then threw the second punch. However, unlike the first punch, Desai used the turning of his upper torso, the flow of his shoulder, and a slight step forward with his forward foot to create a much more impactful blow.
Though Desai didn't strike anything, there was a definite difference between the two strikes. The same went for the kicks, and all other strikes. Without the leverage of the body, ones strikes were only as strong as air.
Through Desai's tutelage, Bale began to practice. He learned how to control and move his body to gain the most power from it, with minimal movement as possible.
Day after day, Desai instructed him. Chastised him, corrected his form, yelled at him. And day after day, Bale improved his form, even if only by a slight margin.
—————
One Year Later.
Bale stood outside, his hand behind his back with a blindfold covering his eyes. Though he stood casually, one who had practiced in martial arts could tell that the man was well guarded.
A small puddle had formed at his feet, and his shirt was soaked at the shoulders and around his collar, though not from sweat. The snow had melted that fell on him. In its place rose a small steam trail, flowing towards the sky and disappearing. It was mid-winter, but this winter had brought a harsh cold and deep snow. But nevertheless Bale continued his training. Desai oversaw his lessons less and less until one day he didn't show up at all. Though every so often he would toss out a pointer from where he sat and watched as he used to.
"That's enough, Bale," he called to the young man. Bale dropped his arm for a moment then lifted it and removed the blindfold. "I've taught you all I could in regards to spears. Aside from those techniques that require the use of two hands, you've learned everything else. It annoys me that it's only taken you a year to learn it all, but what can I do? I'm no genius, so I had to spend nearly a decade to learn what you learned so quickly, you bastard!" He may have sounded angry, but there was no real ill will in his words. In fact, he was proud of this man. He had always wanted to pass on what he knew. Though he couldn't pass on everything, he was happy Bale learned all that he did. It was only a matter of time before the man that stood before him mastered it. He was certain he would use it to improve his sword skills, and though the techniques weren't meant for the sword, Desai had no problem with Bale bastardizing his techniques.
"As a thank you for letting me pass on my techniques," Desai said as he stood and moved over to the door of the shack, "I've found someone who might be able and willing to train you in the ways of the sword."
Using his cane, he pulled the door open. There, standing in the doorway was a woman. She stood about the same height as Desai, if only just a few inches taller. Her body was muscular, but not in the way a man who focused on building his muscles would be. It was from years of repeated training day after day. Though it made her a little stocky, it didn't detract from her lovely looks. She wore glasses, which accentuated her lovely face. despite this, however, she radiates an aura of killing intent. Whether it was intentional or not, he couldn't tell. What he could tell was that Desai wasn't lying when he said she was an able swordsman. Swordswoman? Something with skill in wielding the blade. Her calm demeanor and relaxed stance hid a ferocious beast ready to pounce should its prey come close enough.
If Bale had been any other man, he might have fallen for the beauty that stood before him. But thankfully he wasn't. His lack of a reaction caught both Desai and the woman off guard. She had been used to men fawning over her as soon as they laid eyes on her, regardless of her more muscular body. She had even prepared for when this man had done the same. But he in fact did not. He didn't even react. It was as if what he saw didn't impress him. It struck her ego, but she wouldn't let it get to her. "Uncle Desai, is this the man you were telling me about?" Her voice didn't match her appearance. It was soft and dainty, like a summer lullaby. If one wasn't careful, her voice could lure them to their doom.
"Indeed so, lil Yue," he said, smiling coyly. "I've taught him my techniques for the past year and a half, so he should have no problem holding his own against you."
"We'll see."
"Don't forget our bet."
"Yes, yes. If he should win or our duel come to a draw, I shall indeed take him on as a disciple," she exasperated as she lay a hand on each hilt of the swords at her hip.
'Two swords?' Bale noticed the blades at each side of her hips. One was parallel with her body, being only slightly shorter than her legs. The other, on the other hand, hung more toward her backside, stretching from around her elbow and extending down to nearly touch the ground. He was amazed. How could she walk with such a long sword?!
"As you've just heard," her sudden address to him, yanked him from his admiration, "but I shall reiterate. Should you manage to either defeat me or duel me to a draw, then I shall train you in the ways of the sword."
The woman took several steps forward, drawing the shorter of the two blades and taking an offensive stance. "Prepare yourself."
Desai tossed Bale his unsheathed sword without a word. Bale, having been ready just in case that happened, caught the blade effortlessly and took on his own stance. Once his fingers wrapped around the hilt, that familiar feeling spread across his hand. He smiled slightly, lowering his stance just a fraction.
'Once I show uncle that I'm the superior one, he'll regret teaching that nobody his techniques. Then, when I humiliate him because he is unable to utilize uncle's techniques properly thanks to being a one-arm, I'll have uncle teach me, saying that only I am capable of bringing out their true power.'
With that thought, the woman began to move forward slowly and methodically.
Desai inwardly chuckled. Though she didn't do or say anything, she was his niece. He could read her like an open book. To her, he was nothing more than a baby cub challenging a grown tiger. To Desai, however, things were reversed. She may be a tiger, but Bale was a dragon. An infantile dragon, but a baby dragon was a lot fiercer than a mere tiger.
'Poor, sweet niece of mine. You'll soon realize why I told you what I did.'