The disciple took out his phone. "This is it," he said and opened up a text file. He showed it to Zachariah. "This is the message. Tyson Slade has declared war on the east coast."
Zachariah read the letter carefully, and his face grew dark. "It's worse than war," he said. "The Blood Brothers are preparing for a massacre."
"Master, is it true that our people also participated in the attack on Hu Juli?" another of Zachariah's students asked nervously. "What happened back then?"
Zachariah studied their worried faces. For years, students and teachers at the academy had asked him about those events, but he had refused to answer. Now that war had been declared, perhaps the time had come for openness and honesty.
"It never made sense to me," Cliff interjected. "From what I've heard, Hu Juli was respected by everyone. And then suddenly he was branded as a threat and thrown out. Martial arts training is supposed to be about inner peace and self-defense. Why did the other masters turn on him and his family?"
"Someone once told me that Hu Juli's ambition made him dangerous and that that justified the action against him," he continued. "But that doesn't seem right."
Zachariah thought about it. He walked over to a window and looked out. The sky was clear and blue, and sparrows were playing in the air outside the window. He sighed. "People thought differently a hundred years ago," he said pensively. "Those were troubled times, and some of the principles that we hold dear were temporarily abandoned."
Cliff and the others nodded. They understood what Zachariah meant, but they needed to know more.
Zachariah's face hardened. "Hu Juli founded the Blood Brothers to avenge his family and kill those responsible for their fate," he said, shifting the subject. "Many on the east coast have watched them for a long time. Their numbers have grown rapidly, and they are now the largest gang on the west coast, with an international reputation. Obviously, Tyson now feels that he can make his move. We must make ours."
One of Zachariah's disciples stepped forward and asked, "Master, did you gain any insights from your isolation?"
"Yes," Zachariah answered. "I had a lot of time to contemplate and train. I have mastered ancient knowledge and techniques that I didn't fully understand before. With time, I'll teach them to all of you." He raised his eyes and stood taller. "Step forward, my favored seven!"
Seven of the most accomplished students at the academy came forward and stood around Cliff. They looked to their master with eager anticipation.
"My honored disciples," Zachariah said with a smile. "To start with, I will instruct the seven of you on the key points of what I have learned. I will also find the time to give lectures on classical texts to all our students. I have many new things to say."
Cliff and the seven disciples nodded gratefully to him.
"When the Blood Brothers come, we'll have nothing to fear," one of the disciples exclaimed. "With our master leading us, they're not a threat. And besides, they're only sending one man."
"Don't underestimate the enemy," Zachariah cautioned. "We must get back to training. We need to be—" As he spoke, he was interrupted by a loud clang and the sound of wood breaking.
Zachariah, Cliff, and the seven disciples rushed out of the hall into the courtyard. On the other end, they could see that the gates into the academy had been smashed. The students closest to it had been thrown aside, and several men in dark clothes came walking into the academy.
At the head of them walked a large-bodied middle-aged man with a fierce expression on his face. He wore a black suit and carried himself with steady confidence. Beside him walked a younger, more handsome man who was half a head taller than his companion.
A few feet behind them came a group of six young people, whose clothing and demeanor matched the older man exactly. It was clear they were working for him. The two men in front were Lee and Chris.
"How dare you come into the Black Swallow Academy like this!" the oldest and most senior of Zachariah's disciples shouted at them. "Who are you?"
Lee stopped and smiled. "I'm Lee Harshaw."
Zachariah, Cliff, and the others were shocked. Nobody had suspected that he would arrive so soon.
"So you're Lee," Cliff said and stepped forward. He looked derisively at Lee. "You've overstepped your bounds, pal. Maybe it's time someone taught you a lesson."
Cliff saw his chance to redeem himself in the eyes of his brethren, and he decided to seize it. He stared at his opponent and got into a fighting position. He was ready. He rushed at Lee.
He was almost fully recovered from his fight with Alex, and he descended on Lee with terrible speed. He struck at his stomach. The blow landed, and Lee gave off a slight gasp. While his feet stayed firmly on the ground, his body jolted backwards and absorbed the blow.
Cliff was secretly impressed. Such a blow could only be absorbed by an extraordinarily resilient fighter. Lee hadn't even tried to parry it. Most men would have keeled over.
While Lee was re-adjusting, Cliff went in for a series of quick blows. He came at Lee with ten attacks in lightning-fast succession, but Lee blocked every one of them.
"Is that all?" Lee sneered and threw his fist at Cliff.
Cliff stepped to the side to dodge the blow, but he was unprepared for its strength and speed. As he twirled around, Lee's fist struck him on the shoulder with a crunch.
He staggered back a few meters, and he saw that the stone floor had cracked where he had stood.
The other disciples could tell that Cliff was struggling to match Lee, and they all rushed to his side. When they reached his side, they spread out in a line across the courtyard.
"Hold positions!" one of them yelled. They knew that they must stay coordinated, or they might disrupt each other's flow. If they worked cohesively, they had no doubt that they would stop the intruders.
With a signal from the eldest disciple, who stood in the middle, the others stepped forward to create a half-circle around Lee. This defensive move was a special technique that had been taught at the temple for several generations. It relied on teamwork to force the opponent to expose himself by parrying.
Cliff and the disciples had trained extensively together. They had mastered this technique a long time ago, and they could perform the synchronized attacks in their sleep. As they slowly moved on Lee, they stared him down with complete confidence in victory.
Lee seemed amused. "So, the Black Swallows have gained their reputation by ganging up on people," he said. "And here I thought that I would have to face fighters with actual skill." He started laughing hysterically.