The backyard was down-at-the-heel, an unkempt stretch of land knee-high in swaying grasses, with one shed standing as if alone, weathered, cracked, at the center where Perora instructed his students, and nearby tied securely Puck, his dog, which growled constantly low in warning of his feral nature.
Aleck comes through the back door, the boots crunching quietly on the irregular soil. Rodger stands outside in the fields with his arms folded, fixed with his gaze out at the view: something, he seems to weigh, vision it, gaze forward into something alone he may be able to see.
Dan sat cross-legged in the impromptu center of the arena, his sword lying to the side. On her knees by his side stood Perora with her voice whispery low, probably in last-ditch begging.
Aleck did not blink. He walked straight to Dan and stopped dead still. Dan opened his eyelids like a trap snapping open, letting his wide stare feast on Aleck's steady gaze. Then a thin crease curled him into laughter that was really nothing but inside laughing—a tiny twist of laughter inside at the youngster's persistence.
Perora intervened, her voice relieving tension and breaking Aleck's dead freeze. "Dan, it isn't too late. You may still call off everything."
Dan replied without turning to her. "I am going to teach him what it truly takes to be a knight with this training."
Dan stood; he held the sword, its weight balanced easily. Aleck didn't move, but his steady eyes locked with Dan's.
There was no animosity between them, but Aleck could feel it. The air thickened with tension, and the energy that seemed to radiate from Dan was palpable. It wasn't anger or hatred-it was something far more primal, an intensity that made Aleck feel like prey standing before a predator.
Rodger watched from his lookout point, adjusting his stance a little, but said nothing. It wasn't just a fight. It was a lesson-one both combatants would never forget.
Dan shot back, "I'll give you a handicap; I'll only use a wooden sword for you," he sneered with sarcastic inflections.
Aleck didn't react. He didn't even flinch. He drew his sword silently, its blade faintly glowing in the dim light, and stood up—the one hand placed firmly on the hilt. His silence was enough of an answer. This wasn't a game, and he knew Dan's taunt was no joke.
Dan let out a dramatic sigh, closing his eyes in a mock irritation. "You are no fun at all," he muttered.
Swoosh.
Aleck shifted with a single move, leaping the gap between them to get a close distance. His movement was swift, with a decisive kick that directly reached Dan's face.
Dan reacted just as quickly, raising his forearm to block the attack with ease. The sound of the impact, thud, echoed across the field. His grin widened, his teeth bared as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment. "It's the best. It's really the best," he thought, exhilaration coursing through him.
"You're a haughty one, aren't you?" Dan teased, his voice brimming with amusement.
Aleck didn't answer. He came down on the balls of his feet and quickly shifted, keeping his distance. His face said nothing, his concentration unwavering.
Dan's grip on his wooden sword tightened. The mood had shifted from a demonstration of skill to a battle of unspoken ideals.
Aleck held his sword tightly with an unyielding gaze in his eyes. He didn't think of the consequences and moved toward Dan with explosive speed. His blade came down in a brutal arc, almost as swift as the blow he had used when he first saw Ethan. This time, though, the blows were carried with deliberate precision, and each blow aimed at gaining the momentum build-up with every impact.
Clang! Steel crashing against wood resonated clear in the air. Aleck moved wildly, running all ways in his desperate struggle, each of his blows being aimed straight to push Dan out of balance. He came down from above and below, both sides; he cut each stroke meant to shove Dan off.
But still, Dan didn't budge. His wooden sword, under an unearthly calm, faced Aleck's assault blow to blow, block to parry each with an icy ease. The deflection, each and every time, was a flawless move by him; the sword seemed almost indestructible: like it was no wood but from Titaniumite itself.
Thunk! Thwack! Smash! The ripples of their collisions were traveling through the air, but Aleck kept pushing forward. He could see something in Dan that he couldn't put his finger on: something more than technical expertise, something that allowed him to take every hit without giving up.
And then it struck him—the solution. Resonance.
Dan was not swinging with brute strength or finesse; he'd infused the wooden sword with astral energy. The dimly glowing aura around the sword attested to that fact. His blade vibrated to the pulse of the astral plane, its resilience and acuteness magnified far beyond ordinary wood.
Dan held his ground, a faint aura of his resonance still shimmering around him. Though Aleck did not stop for a single instant, his composure remained unbroken-a sign of an extraordinary talent. Even such trivial objects as a wooden sword were formidable tools in Dan's hands.
Aleck took a sharp breath, frustration flickering in his eyes. The fight was wearing him down, and he knew he couldn't count on brute force alone. He closed his eyes for a moment, directing his resonance inward, focusing the energy into his hands and legs.
Without warning, Aleck tossed his sword aside.
Swoosh
The sudden act drew Perora's startled gasp, but before anyone could question it, Aleck vanished from sight, his speed amplified to a level even Perora struggled to track. In an instant, he was behind Dan, his fist driving toward the older boy's blind spot.
Thud!
Dan, almost nonchalantly, blocked the strike with his forearm.
Aleck did not give up. He unleashed a flawless salvo of punches and kicks, every blow paired with swift rotations, his actions smooth yet powerful. His strikes were relentless, precision and brute force mixed together.
Dan's mind ran wild as he parried every blow.
"These punches. they're no laughing matter. It's like fighting someone who's been in thousands of fights. His kicks are like a seasoned man's, not a kid's."
But Aleck didn't simply wish to batter into submission. He was paying attention, estimating.
Dan furrowed his eyebrows, murmuring, "Must end it right now."
Both locked onto one another briefly before breaking contact once again in that unspoken moment of clarity to the task ahead. Using his foot to fan at the overgrown blades below him, he launched debris through the air at them.
Crunch!
The grass was a temporary blindfold; it hid Dan's view. For that moment, Aleck attacked, and his foot made perfect contact with Dan's face.
Smack!
Dan staggered backward not from the blow but because it was a total surprise. He had been in the ring fighting for the first time, but this time he moved.
Dan's face hardened and his aura blazed to life with newfound intensity. He took one fluid step forward, the wooden sword cutting through the air like a blur.
Swoosh!
Aleck barely dodged, the blade grazing his cheek, leaving a thin, crimson line. He stumbled back, his hand instinctively touching the wound as a bead of blood trickled down.
Dan was a joy to watch, his wooden sword a masterclass in precision and force with each swing. Every strike came with a sharp swoosh, the air itself seeming to part under the sheer velocity of his attacks. The blows were so fierce that Aleck barely had time to react, every dodge feeling like a brush with death.
But Aleck wasn't exactly an ordinary child. At just eleven, he had put up with training no one else would even think of. Nevertheless, he realized that the man in his sight was no one to be defeated in cold blood. Dan wasn't that kind of opponent; he wanted not to kill him but couldn't be yielded to.
Aleck closed his eyes for a split second, channeling astral power inwards. This time, he diverted the energy from his limbs to his eyes and strengthened his core.
As Aleck opened his eyes, the world seemed sharper, every one of Dan's movements predictable. He could see the path of the sword before it even completed its arc, allowing him to maneuver with newfound agility.
Swoosh
Swoosh
Aleck dodged with the accuracy of a gazelle, his slight body dancing through Dan's elegant yet relentless attacks.
Each time he dodged, his confidence grew. He was no longer on the defensive; he was observing, waiting for the perfect moment.
Finally, Aleck found an opening. His body surged forward, bypassing Dan's relentless strikes.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
His fists pounded Dan's torso rapidly, each blow a surgical strike. Aleck put all his might into the blows hoping that it would break Dan's stance.
This was enough to send Dan back a couple of steps as his hold on the sword began to break. The older boy kneeled as he caught himself with his hand on the ground, his breathing heavier but his grin still intact.