Ignorant of his family's plight; Ciaran was in the middle of an important lesson. Eleftherios had decided that today they would just go over some theoretical work and some of the more common knowledge among his kind.
They talked primarily about the kinds of magical creatures that lived near them, with the boy not missing a single chance to ask for hints in regard to magic. Sadly the dryad's lips were tight on the matter.
However, as a way to shut him up, and admittedly to show off a little, the gardener suggested he could show him a little bit of magic.
"Nothing too fancy, just your typical Novice Rank spells. Don't be fooled though, they are just as deadly as those of a higher caliber if used practically." Eleftherios said, and his young student nodded vigorously.
The man summoned about a dozen wooden puppets, all looking very similar to the boy. Then he had the boy sit on an elevated service so he could observe them better.
The man stood face to face with twelve opponents, each as strong as Ciaran. They did not charge him, instead they surrounded him, and he just allowed them to do so. He may have limited the strength of his body to that of Rank Zero, but today was about magic, and magic wasn't really about physicality.
In a moment they moved all twelve of them. They attacked from different directions, different angles, synchronized so he would not be able to counter. The next moment the wind blew, and to Ciaran's amazement it cut them, and it cut them deep.
The wind formed blades that inflicted heavy cuts all over their bodies. It was not enough to sever their limbs or decapitate them, but it had more or less crippled twelve copies of the boy.
Ciaran swallowed his nervousness in the form of spit.
'In less than a second he could kill a dozen of me. More, probably, if he so chooses.' The thoughts ran through his head, but there was no fear, just anticipation.
As the boy understood it, this was something he was going to learn, and the horror in front of him would be his teacher. And the thing that scared IT, would be his second teacher.
'The stricter the teacher, the better the student will turn up I guess.'
He looked at the man lording over his victims. He did not finish them, simply because there was no need, and he was not done. Next, he had them healed and after tripled their numbers.
If before he was one versus a group, now he was against a crowd. This time he did not just cut them with his wind. Instead, the wind blew, and it took him with it. He moved so fast, gliding on it. One after the other he stroked the puppets.
When they completely blocked his path, he simply flew in the air. Well, he did not 'fly' so to speak; he walked on it as if it was a hard surface. His movements were not restricted to horizontality; as such he could strike them however he wanted.
From normal strikes, the kind the boy had learned from The Colonel to more abstract ones he had only read about in manuals. One of those was the tornado kick.
The man started in a fighting stance and spun their body in the opposite direction of their kicking leg, lifting the opposite leg off the ground and pivoting on the ball of the standing foot. As he completed the spin, he chambers their kicking leg and then executes a roundhouse kick, aiming for his target with speed and accuracy.
Now that was hard enough to do in battle as it was. The fact he executed that maneuver, perfectly sideways, while dodging four other attacks simultaneously, was nothing short of wild.
Not all of his moves were beautifully choreographed though. One of the more amusing takedowns, he performed by simply standing next to a puppet, his feet on the level of their head. And just like that, a mimic's head was used like a football.
In a few minutes, all of the puppets were left beaten and broken.
"Please tell me you will not beat me like that, master. Your poor pupil is fragile. Mercy! Mercy oh great fighter of the Maze." Ciaran fell to his knees and begged dramatically.
The dryad had a hard time controlling himself. He was in the role of a mentor right now, and as such laughing at the boy's antics simply would not do.
"Stop clowning around boy. That was a simple exercise you would be able to do similar things when you learn magic." He said as seriously as he could. Not very convincing, if one was to take into account the smile on his face, and the shaking of his body from the laugh he held within.
"Was that a body thing? The speed up, or can it only be achieved by magic.?"
And there lay the problem Eleftherios faced. To properly explain combat, he had to begin by explaining magic and that was not something he could do right now. Not unless he wanted to cross his sister when she was already angry.
'There are dumber ways to die, I will admit that much. But they are not that many.' Thought Eleftherios and smirked.
"Let us just say it is a matter of perspective. How about this, when sis comes back, ask her to show you what Water can do. Not as magic but as a martial art. It should be eye-opening."
The boy eyed him strangely.
"I thought you said, those like us have two elements. Isn't she a water mage? With her body also being Water, isn't that contrary to what you said?" The boy asked.
Eleftherios looked at him and laughed.
"Who told you she was a water mage Ciaran? Because she turned herself into a swamp, is that what got you confused? No, she is of the Water body and her soul is that of Space. She is largely why the Maze can look like it does and be hundreds of times bigger than what it is."
"Magic is not restricted by our elements, they just empower it. But don't you worry, sis has more than enough water magic in her to freeze this whole city if she so chose."
After a bit of bragging about how cool Verdania was, the man went on a tangent on how weak and unoriginal humans were.
"Listen kid, this does not apply to you, but most humans, especially in the lower ranks, have no individuality. Look at your brother for an example. Gifted, better than all his peers, and yet he always fights within the 'rules'."
"His form is textbook perfect, no doubt drilled into his head day after day. The sad part is, that you think learning like that will make you strong. It will not. It is why humans have very few Martial Artists and so many war machines. You know how to kill, and how to be efficient, but there is more to the Martial Path than practicality there is meaning."
And he went on and on about how every human was a carbon copy of another. How they all fought the same.
"Have you never fought an exception to the rule then? A human you would praise for their power?" The boy asked.
"You are not listening to me Ciaran, it's not about power. There are many powerful people, but most of them are of disgusting crudity."
"Imagine trying to cut meat with a hammer. That's what I see in them. It may get the job done, hell it may even make a cut by the sheer power of how stubbornly you all refuse to learn, but the best hammer will not cut as deep as a regular dagger."
The boy looked at the man with antlers and smiled.
"That was the shitiest analogy I have ever seen."
"Ok. Change of plans then. Let's begin with some Trials today."
"I will tell big sis Verdania."
"She tasked me with teaching you, kid. That will not do much."
"I will tell her you said she had a nice rack among your praise."
"She is my sister."
"Would she not believe you capable of making a dirty joke?"
They bantered for a while, but in the end, Ciaran wasn't made to run trials. That will wait for tomorrow and the days that follow.
"I get you guys will keep quiet about most things, but can I at least ask what the short-term goals are? Ciaran probed.
"You are Rank Zero, it's time you learned to fight like one as well. Also, we need to get you up to speed with all knowledge kept from you until now. After that, I have a very amusing idea. You will hate it I promise." Eleftherios grinned, his wicked smile extending to his ears.
The boy knew the dryads did not mean him any harm, but he still shuddered. The man in front of him was similar to both him and Liam in that when he found something fun, he liked to go way overboard. And that usually led to a lot of headaches for the ones involved.