After that day with Trevon, I'd been going to his house after school for about a week. He'd been training me in hand-to-hand combat, showing me different fighting styles and strategies that had sharpened my skills by leaps and bounds. What started as simple lessons had turned into full-blown sparring sessions. Trevon was relentless, and every day I left his house bruised and sore but stronger.
The more I went over, the closer we got. Turns out, Trevon wasn't as cold as he seemed at first. He had a way of breaking the tension with snarky comments or his dry humor, and I started to look forward to our hanging out and training with him. At some point, I'd even met his little brother, Dae.
Dae was a freshman at our school, and I hadn't noticed before, but Trevon and I shared almost every class together except gym. Now that I thought about it, it was hard to miss him. He stood out with his spiky red hair, But for some reason, we hadn't crossed paths until all this started.
As I walked into school that morning, a familiar voice called out behind me.
"Yo, slum boy!"
I turned to see Trevon, his spiky red hair standing out in the crowd of students. He walked toward me with his usual smirk, towering over most people at 180 cm.
"Ayy, Trevon. What took you so long?" I shot back.
Right behind him was another familiar face Dae. With the same fiery red hair, he stood slightly shorter at 178 cm, but he carried himself with just as much confidence.
"Yoo, Dae." I extended a hand toward him. He took it, his grip firm, though his expression was serious.
"So, any new info about Keagan?" I asked Trevon, cutting to the chase.
Trevon's smirk faded as he got down to business. "Yeah. I heard there's a girl in the slums who's awakened her powers. Apparently, she's drawn the attention of that hammer guy you mentioned. I think he'll show up if we stake it out."
"Interesting," I said, nodding. "If she's in the slums, I might know her. What time are we heading there?"
Trevon glanced at his watch. "Around 4. An hour after school ends."
"Big brother, can I come today?" Dae asked, stepping forward.
It was strange to see someone almost as tall as Trevon calling him "big brother," but there was a clear dynamic between them.
"No," Trevon said firmly. "This mission is too dangerous. Plus, you're not strong enough."
Dae scowled. "But Big Brother, Jay goes! And he can't even manifest! I've been learning martial arts longer than him, and I'm a prodigy!"
Trevon sighed, his tone sharpening. "Your arrogance blinds you to reality. Even though Jay hasn't been learning as long as you, I'd say his combat prowess far exceeds yours."
Dae's eyes widened, his pride visibly taking a hit. "That's impossible. I've trained with you for years!"
"It's not about time," Trevon said. "Jay adapts faster. He's instinctual and learns from every fight. You rely too much on your basic style not trying to be unpredictable or improve on it once someone figures out your rhythm you'll lose. . Jay isnt like that he adapts in the fight changing his flow and speed to mess with the opponents Rhythm this is something you just can't comprehend you're too arrogant and think your basic style is the best.
Dae's jaw tightened, and I could tell the words stung. He glanced at me, his eyes filled with resentment, but he didn't argue further. "Fine," he muttered, storming off toward the school building.
I watched him go, glancing at Trevon. "You didn't have to say all that, you know."
Trevon shrugged. "He needs to hear it. His ego's been out of control."
What he said to his brother honestly makes no sense what do you mean basic fighting style everyone has a set fighting style even me mine is just more loose and flexible letting me improve it more but it doesn't have it's weaknesses that a ridge set fighting style wouldn't have so he probably just said that so his brother couldn't come to protect him. But this isn't my place to but in.
"So, what are we going to do when we find the girl or if we see them fighting?" I glanced at Trevon as we walked side by side toward my house.
"Simple," Trevon said, his voice calm but confident. "First, we'll wait for the hammer guy to make his move. Let him confront her. Then, when the time is right, we'll step in and take him down. Once we have him, we'll beat the answers out of him."
I frowned, my mind flashing back to the two times I'd seen the hammer guy in action. Both were brutal. I could still hear the sickening crunch of his hammer connecting with the ribbon guy, the way the earth shattered under the force of his swings, and the terrifying power behind his shockwaves.
"Are you sure we can beat him?" I asked, skepticism creeping into my tone. "I've seen him fight twice now, and he's good. Really good. His hammer can lift chunks of the ground like it's nothing, and the shockwaves alone are enough to knock someone flat. Plus, I don't even know what his buddy can do."
Trevon smirked, unbothered by my concerns. "Good to know. Sounds like a strong opponent. But it won't be a problem for my manifest."
His confidence was as unshakable as ever, but his words made me pause. Now that I thought about it, I'd never actually seen his manifest in action. I couldn't even remember if he'd told me what it was. The curiosity lingered in the back of my mind, but I decided not to press him on it yet.
The conversation drifted as we neared my house. The small building looked as tired as ever, with its worn paint and creaky porch. It wasn't much, but it was home.
When I opened the door, the faint smell of something burnt greeted me. Inside, the old man was sitting on the couch, his cane resting against the armrest. He didn't use it much, but when he did, it usually meant his joints were acting up again.
He looked up as we walked in, his sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on Trevon. His expression was calm, but I could feel the intensity of his gaze as he silently sized up my friend, as if searching for any hidden intentions.
"Oh, Jay," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "Who's this?"
I shot Trevon a quick glance before answering. "Ah, it's just my friend Trevon. He's here to hang out for a bit."
The old man didn't reply right away. His gaze lingered on Trevon for another moment
Slowly, he stood up and walked over to Trevon.
"So, Jay's finally made a friend, huh?" he said, his tone softening just a little. He extended a hand toward Trevon, his grip firm and deliberate.
Trevon accepted the handshake without hesitation, meeting the old man's grip with equal firmness. "Nice to meet you, sir," he said, his usual smirk replaced by something more respectful.
The old man nodded slightly. "Likewise." Then, turning to me, he added, "Don't let me hold you up. Go on and do whatever you kids do these days."
"Alright, old man," I said with a small grin. "We'll be upstairs."
We went upstairs to my room. Trevon walked in and immediately made himself comfortable, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. His gaze wandered around the room until it landed on the guitar.
"You play?" he asked, picking it up and running his fingers over the strings.
"Sometimes," I said, leaning against the wall. "I'm not great, but I can play Never Meant to Belong."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You know that one? You've seen Bleach?"
I nodded, reaching over to grab my duct-taped laptop. "Yeah. I watch it on this." I held the laptop up, its barely functioning state on full display.
Trevon snorted. "Man, that thing looks like it's held together by sheer determination. But I've gotta say, I didn't expect someone in the slums to have a guitar and a laptop."
I shrugged. "Yeah, I get that a lot. But it's all thanks to the old man. I don't know what he does, but whenever I ask for something, he somehow gets it. The guitar, the laptop, clothes everything."
Trevon set the guitar down, his expression thoughtful. "You're lucky, then. Not everyone around here has someone looking out for them like that."
I nodded, though I didn't say anything. His words carried more weight than I expected, and for a moment, the room was quiet.
Breaking the silence, I asked, "Anyway, what about you? You've got a house, a brother. Seems like you're doing alright yourself."
Trevon chuckled, leaning back on the mattress. "Yeah, maybe. But it's not as simple as it looks. Everyone's got their own problems, y'know?"
"Well, it's about time. Let's sneak out now. I'll bring my sword," I said, grabbing the blade from where it leaned against the wall. Trevon gave me a nod before we both climbed out of my cracked window. Landing lightly, we slipped into the quiet night and started walking through the slums, scanning for anything unusual.
We wandered for about ten minutes, the streets eerily silent, before I spotted someone. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized her.
"Is that the queen? What's she doing here?" I grabbed Trevon and shoved him into a nearby alley.
"Yo, what was that for?" he snapped, glaring at me.
"Shush. Be quiet."
Moments later, a girl approached, walking with firm, determined steps. Despite her confidence, I caught a glint of fear in her eyes like she knew she was heading toward something she couldn't handle.
"Wait," Trevon said, peeking out beside me. "I think that girl goes to our school. I thought you were the only poor person there."
"Yeah, I did too. Is she the girl that awakened?"
Trevon crossed his arms and tilted his head. "It's not impossible, but I don't know. We should stalk her."
He sounded so creepy that I gave him a look, but I didn't argue. "Fine. Let's wait a bit before moving."
We waited a couple of minutes before stepping out of the alley. The girl was gone, but it didn't take long to find her standing in the middle of a dirt road, arms folded.
"So you actually came," a gruff voice called out, drawing my attention to a man standing a few feet away. His towering frame and malicious grin made my stomach churn. "Heh, I thought you'd run. Looks like you care about your family. Well, what's your answer?"
The girl stood silently, her expression hard to read. Then she spoke, her voice calm. "No."
The man's grin twisted into something cruel. "Oh well. I'll just have fun with your dead body."
He raised his hand, and a massive hammer materialized out of thin air. Without hesitation, he charged at her, swinging the weapon with frightening speed.
"When do we jump in? And where's his partner?" I whispered to Trevon, who was crouched beside me, studying the fight intently.
"I'll jump in once I see her manifest," he replied.
The girl clenched her fists, and her weapon finally appeared a pair of brass knuckles.
"Hmm, brass knuckles," Trevon muttered. "Those tend to come with physical abilities. I can handle this fight. If things go south, back me up."
Before I could respond, Trevon dashed toward the fight. But just as I turned to watch him, my instincts screamed at me. I barely had time to react before a blade came slicing toward me.
I drew my sword in a single motion, parrying the attack with a loud clang. A man stepped out of the shadows, his sword gleaming under the faint moonlight.
"Wow, kid, you actually sensed my presence," he said with a mocking grin.
"It's not hard. I can smell you from a mile away," I shot back.
He snarled and slashed at me again. I sidestepped, my blade slicing toward his midsection. He deflected it and lunged forward, forcing me to leap back to avoid the tip of his sword.
The man was fast faster than me but his movements were rough and unrefined. His strength made up for his lack of technique, though, and every strike he threw pushed me closer to my limits.
I ducked under a swing and went for his ribs, landing a clean hit with the hilt of my sword. He grunted, stumbling back, but recovered quickly. His blade came down in a vertical arc, and I barely managed to block it, the force of the blow numbing my arms.
"You're better than I expected," he said, circling me like a predator.
"You're worse than I thought," I shot back, even though I could feel my stamina draining.
Meanwhile, Trevon reached the fight just as the hammer guy swung his massive weapon. The girl dodged with incredible speed, closing the gap and landing a quick punch to his side.
The hammer guy barely flinched. "You're fast, I'll give you that," he said, swinging his hammer again.
The girl ducked under the swing, her movements precise and relentless. Each punch she threw seemed stronger than the last, her brass knuckles glowing faintly with every strike.
"She gets stronger the more she hits," Trevon muttered, his scythe manifesting in his hands. The sleek weapon pulsed with energy as he joined the fray, slashing at the hammer guy from behind.
The hammer guy blocked the attack with surprising ease, spinning around to face Trevon. "You think you can take me on, too?"
Trevon smirked. "I don't think. I know."
He swung his scythe, sending out a concentrated slash of essentia. The hammer guy leapt back, avoiding the attack, but the girl was already on him again, landing a brutal combo of punches.
With each hit, her strength seemed to multiply the hammer guy staggering back more and more, and the hammer guy started to falter under their combined assault. Still, he didn't go down easily. He slammed his hammer into the ground, sending a shockwave that knocked both Trevon and the girl off balance.
"Name's Bram, by the way," the hammer guy said, his grin widening. "Figured you'd want to know who killed you."
"Big words for someone who's losing," Trevon replied, tightening his grip on the scythe.
Bram roared and charged at them again, but Trevon and the girl quickly regained their footing. The fight intensified, each side pushing the other closer to the edge.
Back in the alley, I was starting to feel the strain of my fight. The swordsman was relentless, and while I could keep up, I knew I couldn't outlast him.
He lunged at me again, but this time, I didn't step back. I moved forward, catching his blade on mine and locking it in place. With a grunt, I pushed him back, creating just enough space to swing for his legs.
He jumped, barely dodging the strike, but the move left him off-balance. I seized the opportunity, stepping in and slamming my blade down on his shoulder. My blade lands on his shoulder this is what I needed to win.
I tightened my grip on the sword, trying to suppress the unease that crept into my chest. His laughter echoed in the narrow alley as he reached up and grabbed the blade still lodged in his shoulder.
"You must think this is going to secure your win, kid, don't you? Hahahaha…" His laughter trailed off, his expression hardening into something colder, more menacing. His eyes glinted with a dangerous light.
"I'll use my powers now."
Before I could react, his hand glowed faintly as he pulled my sword from his shoulder, tossing it aside like it was nothing. Then, his own blade began to shimmer, emitting a faint pulse of energy. He took a step forward, pointing the tip at me.
"Let me explain something to you," he said, a cocky smirk curling his lips. "My sword has a little trick. After I land enough hits, it doesn't matter how skilled you are or how fast you move. My blade will always parry your attacks. Automatically. It's like fighting against perfection, and perfection always wins."
I clenched my teeth, raising my sword again. "That's a lot of talk for someone bleeding."
He grinned. "You'll see soon enough."
I lunged at him, slashing toward his midsection. He didn't move, yet his sword shifted on its own, effortlessly deflecting my attack. I swung again, faster this time, aiming for his side, then his legs, then his neck. Each strike was met with the same result—his blade moved as if it had a mind of its own, perfectly blocking every attempt.
Frustration boiled inside me as I pressed harder, trying to outmaneuver him. But no matter how unpredictable my movements were, his sword countered every attack with mechanical precision.
"Haha, you're persistent, I'll give you that," he mocked, stepping forward and forcing me back. "But this is pointless. You can't win against me. Your attacks are useless now."
Sweat dripped down my face as I struggled to keep up. His strikes came faster, harder, and I could barely parry them. My arms felt heavy, the weight of the fight dragging me down.
My grip on the sword faltered. I looked at the blade in my hand, then back at him, and a cold realization hit me. I couldn't beat him like this.
"See? I told you, kid," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Your little tricks mean nothing. Every swing, every thrust it's all pointless. My sword will always win."
I gritted my teeth and lunged, aiming for his chest. His blade shifted automatically, deflecting my strike with ease. Before I could recover, he stepped forward and countered, his sword slashing dangerously close to my face.
"Too slow!" he mocked, his movements growing bolder as he pushed me back.
I swung again, desperate to land a hit, but it was like trying to fight a wall of reflexes. His sword continued to parry my attacks effortlessly, as if mocking my every attempt. My frustration mounted, my arms feeling heavier with every failed strike.
"Let me teach you something, kid," he said, stepping closer. "Skill doesn't matter when you're up against power like this. You're nothing but a bug swinging wildly, hoping for a miracle."
I staggered back as his next blow knocked my sword from my grip. It clattered to the ground, leaving me unarmed. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, sweat dripping down my face.
The guy laughed, raising his sword over his shoulder. "And now it's over. Time to finish this."
He charged, swinging his blade with deadly precision. Instinct kicked in. Without thinking, I ducked low and lashed out with a kick, catching him square in the stomach. The impact sent him stumbling back, his expression twisting in shock.
"What the—?" he sputtered, clutching his stomach.
It clicked in my head. The sword could auto-parry any weapon, but it couldn't block an attack that didn't come from one.
He recovered quickly, glaring at me. "Lucky shot. Don't think you're getting another."
But now I had a plan. I stepped forward, fists clenched, and threw a quick jab. He tried to raise his blade, but it didn't react. My punch landed clean on his shoulder, forcing him to step back.
His eyes widened in realization. "Wait—"
I didn't let him finish. I moved faster, closing the distance and launching a barrage of punches and kicks. Each strike landed, throwing him off balance. His blade flailed uselessly in his hand, unable to counter my unorthodox attacks.
"You're nothing without that sword!" I shouted, driving my fist into his jaw.
He staggered, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His earlier confidence was gone, replaced by frustration and panic.
"You…!" he growled, swinging wildly.
I dodged easily, slamming my foot into his knee and following up with an uppercut to his chin. He dropped his sword, falling to the ground in a heap.
I stood over him, breathing hard, my fists still clenched. "Guess you're not so perfect after all."
The guy groaned, trying to push himself up, but I planted my foot on his chest, pinning him down. "Stay down," I said, my voice cold.