"You've done it. You've mastered the [Cyclone Stance]. I never thought I'd say this, but you're on par with me now—at least when it comes to the [Tempest Fang]. But don't think this is the end."
I wiped the sweat from my brow, my chest heaving as I tried to steady my breathing. The sting of fatigue was present, but there was also a sense of accomplishment coursing through me. Dakota's words rang in my ears—words I'd been striving to hear for weeks now.
But I knew better than to let my guard down, even after such praise.
"I know this isn't the end," I said. "This is just the beginning. There's still so much more to learn, to master."
After all, while I had mastered the [Tempest Fang], it was most likely the beginning stages of an art. Or at least, the art was not of a higher grade.
That was to be expected. After all, if not, it would not be easy to master such an art in just three weeks.
