"There are showers in the backyard, right?"
"I think so, bro."
With heavy steps, he left the apartment and went to the backyard to get an ice-cold shower. When he came back to the apartment, Orson was sitting on a stool and rummaging in a large linen sack. Res watched in fascination as Orson pulled one potion after another out of the sack. When Orson pulled out protective gear like he had seen the guards use, shivers ran down his back. Last but not least, he pulled out a bundle of meat, vegetables, and bread.
Orson pointed at the bundle. "Can you cook?"
"No"
"Do you know how to cook?"
"No"
"Your first lesson will be learning how to cook."
In a pleasant turn of events, Res found himself in front of a stove for the first time in his life. Cooking turned out to be very exhausting. Yet, the pride he felt at the sight of his first dish - a burnt pile of meat and vegetables – couldn't be denied.
"Boy, I thought you lied when you said you didn't know how to cook, but I have seen no one who is as bad at cooking as you." After ten minutes, Orson had produced a new and delicious plate full of vegetables. Res devoured the food and Orson watched him with twinkling eyes. "Good. You can't fight on an empty stomach."
Res perked up at the mention of fighting. "What would you propose as a weapon for me? A sword?"
"A true fighter is the weapon. What do you do if I disarm you? Apart from that, if you use the right techniques, you won't need an enchanted sword."
Res thought back at Baldie and the immense destructive power and nodded in assent. "Then, what martial art should I learn? I heard that the flying swan sect's techniques are powerful."
Orson only laughed at that "Boy, there is no such thing as the ultimate technique. You can only try to achieve something resembling it, by combining all the martial arts into one. Imagine it like picking the best moves from all martial arts. It is called Farmer's Wrath. All the different schools prance around with their elegant motions. Yet, if fighters from all arts were to meet in a dark alley, the Farmer's Wrath practitioner would always win."
Orson motioned with his fork like his teachers from the academy. "Farmer's wrath takes the best of every martial art and puts it into one. It cuts away all the unnecessary flourishes. Its entire purpose is winning, and it doesn't care how. The eastern empire collapsed when a rebel group taught the populous the techniques. Now, let's see what you can do."
With that, he stood up and motioned for Res to do the same. "Hardening one's body is an arduous process and you have a lot to catch up to. Most don't do it at all. You have to endure the hottest weather and lift the heaviest weight. You have to bathe in boiling water and do other hard tasks to achieve the hardening of the body with aether. Because you did none of that, you will wear some of that protective gear at first. It is a custom build."
"Actually, I can harden my body now."
Res cringed at the furious and betrayed look Orson gave him. Then Orson began to smile at Res. "I believed you there for a second. An eighteen-year-old boy able to harden his body."
Orson gave a meaningful snort. "Ridiculous. And my mother is the northerner queen."
Res sighed and extended his hand. "Why would I lie to you about something that you can check in an instant. Here, try to pinch my index finger." Res circulated aether with defensive intent and Orson took his now numb finger.
First, Orson began to pinch then press, and finally, he somehow produced a hammer from a cabinet. To be sure, Res circulated aether in all his hand. That meant that he had to rest his hand on the table because all the muscles supporting it had seized up. Even when Orson hit so hard, that the table jumped ten centimeters in the air, his hand remained unharmed.
Orson stared at Res slack-jawed "Has that any restrictions?"
"I can't use the muscles in the part that I am enforcing."
Orson's face lightened as if a weight had been lifted from his consciousness. "You scared me there for a moment, boy. I thought you still had full mobility." He began to adopt a serious look. "Ready yourself for the hardest training of your life."
Res winced and clarified: "I don't think that will be that difficult not to reach that goal. It is my first training session after all."
Both of them were standing in front of each other in the backyard and curious boys had gathered all around them. Orson had challenged him to a duel with Orson not being allowed to channel aether. Orson grin had turned bloodthirsty. "Let's give the boys a little spectacle. A bloody spectacle."
What Orson had forgotten was the fact that Res had analyzed most of his moves already in the warehouse. He had asked him to do all his moves and had saved them all with his increased sight and memory. In his mind, he had studied all the moves countless times and now understood how deadly Orson was. If he were to come withing grasping distance, he wouldn't stand a chance.
"Bro, this is a fucking rocky scene. Imagine your neck being massaged by me, your trainer. You are chasing chickens and taking part in boxing championships … "
Jason's musings were interrupted by a controlled jab to Res's face. He could see the punch coming and pushed himself a little to the left. Orson threw a lightning-fast round kick with his right foot and Res had to push back and out of the reach of the kick. The attack had pushed Orson back a step, but the push accomplished nothing apart from that. Behind him, one of the children's mothers scurried over and dragged her protesting child away. Several similar aged children joined the group, and they exchanged buttons.
"Bro, they are betting on us. Come on, don't disappoint the blonde one. He bet on you." Res gave the blonde boy a wink and then turned to his opponent.
He turned but couldn't see Orson … The only warning Res got was a shadow flitting across his vision before Orson's fist connected with his cheek. Luckily, Res had flared aether in that region in time. His view of the world tilted sideways as he flew across the backyard.
When he finally came to a stop, Res scrambled on his feet and shouted at Orson: "You said, you wouldn't use aether!"
His martial art teacher only laughed. "Rule number one. Never trust your opponent."
Before Res could mount an attack of his own, aether springs manifested around Orson's legs. Dust swirled behind the bulky man as he shot towards Res with unimaginable speed. At that moment, Res realized that fleeing wasn't an option and not the point of this exercise. He had to engage. Jason felt his uncertainty and sent him feelings of strength and support. His world slowed down to an even slower crawl as he focused his entire mind on his one enemy.
The wide-eyed boys, the apartment blocks, and the cries of street vendors were blotted out. Some deep animalistic part of his being awakened inside him and showed its snarling face. Orson opened with a cross punch and Res pushed himself down. His counter uppercut landed in thin air as Orson moved back a hair's breadth to avoid it. Early enough, Res realized his mistake and rolled out of the way of an otherwise fatal elbow strike. Orson started towards him and Res pushed his left leg upward for a kick to the face. Sudden pain lanced through his body.
"Bro, you aren't a fucking ballerina yet. You are stiff as a rock."
Even though he recovered his composure, Orson took full advantage. Two quick punches to his left shoulder to unbalance him. Res was pummeled with one strike after another, but with the help of Jason, he tanked most of the damage. When he tried to take another step back, he noticed too late that parts of his upper leg were still hardened. Orson had assumed he would continue on his retreat and his latest kick missed Res completely.
Not willing to let the chance go, Res began to pummel Orson's liver and kidney with all the force he could muster. This time, Orson had to activate his spring technique to escape the barrage. He didn't give Orson any time to recuperate from the shock and pushed himself at his opponent. Jab, Duck, punch, punch, duck, jump back, disengage, kick, kick. Res fell into a deadly rhythm of punches, kicks, and ducking.
After he had to disengage when he received a solid punch to his gut, Orson smiled like a psycho: "I would say that was a good warmup. Ready for the real sparring?"
Shivers of fear ran down Res's spine and even in his enhanced state, he couldn't follow Orson. The next thing his brain registered was that Orson was now only a meter away. When Orson's fist shimmered in and out of existence, Res did the only thing a sensible person would do – Drop to the ground with your head tucked into your knees and channel all the aether into hardening.
"Boy, you aren't dumb either. That was the right choice. I can't let you off without a friendly demonstration though."
Res saw that Orson was aiming for his hand, so he circulated all his aether in it. Somehow, Orson managed to pierce through it and burning hot pain spread out from the point of impact. Res groaned and righted himself again. His battle focus had left him due to the immense pain and he cradled his right arm.
"Did you have to do that?"
Orson took out one of the health potions from the linen sacks and threw it to Res. "I received that lesson too. Wasn't so clever as to stop fighting back then. I wanted to impress a girl and our instructor broke over 30 bones on my body. Shows you not to be arrogant. Most young fighters go out onto the streets thinking that they are unstoppable. There is always a bigger fish in the pond."
Res gulped down the concoction and felt his flesh shift back into place. "Can you increase my range of movement? In our fight, I noticed that despite your muscles, you are still flexible. I can only reach your chests with my kicks."
"Yo, Bro. I am in on that. You know, there is something called yoga from where I am from. Sometimes, I would go to yoga classes, to watch womanly assets on display. We should get a female training partner."
Orson looked at Res with a surprised smile. "Boy, I was about to stretch anyways. Why are you so keen on stretching? In my time, all the boys dreaded stretching."
"It is no work. You sit in certain positions for long periods of time and relax."
Orson stared at him in disbelief for several moments and broke out into booming laughter. What the nobles of the royal court called 'stretching' had been a lie. When Orson began to demand that Res perform a gymnastic bridge, it dawned on Res how naive he had been. Only when the midday sun was glared down at Res's torture, he was freed from the tyranny of Orson. Through the whole morning, he had twisted and turned his limbs in ways that he thought impossible.
Every time he lessened the tension on the burning muscles, Orson would shout in his ear: "Hold; Hold; Hold". Sweat was covering every inch of his skin and by the way, he was inhaling air, he feared he had some sort of lung disease.
"Bro, Fun Fact: that is called asthma and you don't have any."
"Feels like it though.", Res groaned inwardly.
Orson came up to Res and patted him on the shoulder. "You did good, boy. If you do ten of those exercises every day, you will be flexible in no time. In other words: You have saved all the money that you would have spent on stretching aid potion."
Res turned to Orson with fury in his eyes. "You force me through that torture and then tell me AFTERWARDS that I can take a potion?"
"It isn't like you could get a stretching aid. Most times, they aren't even in stock. Only rich and petty nobles take them because they can't bear to sweat for five minutes."
If Res looked at the matter with Orson's eyes he realized how childish he was being. "Sorry, I didn't mean to … Never mind. You should know that I may be able to get potions if they are under master level. If there is like a magical potion that would fit me and make super strong, then tell me now."
Orson's eyes showed Res that he didn't believe him, but he left it there. "Yeah sure. There is the master craft version of the stretching aid that grants the user full range of movement. Within limits of course. That would cost you forty gold. It grants increased bone density, flesh, and nerves potion. Each one of those will cost you eighty gold. If you are particularly dumb, you can even buy eyesight, hearing, and smelling pills. Each one of those will cost four platinum.
The thing is: Why would you buy them? You can reach the same level of mastery through training for a year in different fields. I even think that is why they are so expensive: because they need master alchemists and nobody wants them. I joined the elite palace guard and had mastered the disciplines within a year. You need to train."
When Orson listed off the different potions, an unconscious smile spread on his face.
��I need a break. I have some important business to attend to. Can we meet again tomorrow?"
"Fine with me. Meet me here again at the same time. I have some gigs to settle, too."
Res turned to leave but stopped. "Orson?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."