Reya's shout of alarm was disregarded by the two, one attacking and one dodging and defending.
No matter how relentless Lara's hands and feet were, none of her punches and kicks landed.
Jethru moved with an agility that seemed impossible for a man in his fifties, dodging every strike with ease, his expression calm and composed. It was as if he could read her every move before she made it.
"Impressive," Jethru said, his voice steady despite the onslaught. "But you'll have to do better than that if you want to touch me."
In the end, Lara's young body gave in to exhaustion. Panting heavily, she slumped to the ground, her arms trembling from the relentless effort.
"Little girl, that was very impressive!" Jethru said with a grin, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. "I haven't fought like that in years. Some of your moves were quite intriguing. I haven't seen those styles before."
Lara shot him a glare, her frustration boiling over.
"Are you mocking me, old man?" she snapped, anger seeping into her tone. How could it be that none of her attacks had landed? Was it because her body hadn't fully recovered from the injury she'd sustained three days ago?
Jethru shook his head, his expression calm. "Not at all. You have real skill, girl—better than many men who are older and stronger than you."
"Skill?" Lara spat, her voice laced with frustration. "Not a single one of my attacks even grazed you!"
Jethru threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and hearty.
"That's because your opponent was me," he said simply, his tone brimming with quiet confidence.
Lara stared at him, her eyes widening. What does he mean by that? she wondered. Could he be a martial arts expert?
Jethru noticed her expression and smiled. "If you're interested," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "I could take you as my disciple. You are promising. You have strange moves that I have never seen. Besides, I haven't trained anyone in over a decade."
Sandoz beamed, his eyes sparkling with admiration, like those of an avid fan.
"Sister, you're so awesome. I want to be just like you!"
Lara: "..."
She felt insulted. Awesome? How could she be called that when she'd been utterly defeated—without even landing a blow? Exhaustion had claimed her before the old man ever did. Her legs felt like lead, and she couldn't lift her arms even if she tried.
"Sandoz, you shouldn't want to be like me," she said with a sigh. "Didn't you see? The old man didn't have a scratch on him. Look at his white robe—spotless! Not a single mark from my kicks. Meanwhile, I can barely stand. And besides, you're a boy, not a girl. You should learn from Grandpa instead."
"But Sister, your moves were so cool!" Sandoz insisted, bouncing on his toes. "Grandpa just dodged the whole time—it was boring. But your kicks and punches were strong and amazing!" He lifted his small foot and mimicked a clumsy kick at the air.
Lara was speechless.
Jethru, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement. What a foolish boy. Still, he didn't mind taking on another disciple.
"So, little girl," he said, addressing Lara, "are you ready to accept my offer and become my disciple?"
Seated on a pile of cloth, Lara rubbed her aching shins and ankles. Of course, she wanted to. Among her father's mixed martial arts students, she was unbeatable. But compared to this old man, her skills were trash.
"What's the catch?" she asked warily.
The old man might ask for something in return that she could not afford. It was the olden time. Could it be that he wanted to take her as his wife? Lara shivered as she shook her head to get read of the disgusting thoughts.
Jethru frowned. "Catch? What nonsense are you spouting now?"
"I mean..." Lara hesitated, searching for the right words. "What do you want in return?"
"You brat!" Jethru snapped, glaring at her. "I don't want anything! I don't need anything! I just want to pass on my skills before it's too late. If you want to repay me, then learn fast! And let your maid cook for me and wash my clothes while you're at it!"
He huffed angrily, muttering to himself, Why does this girl always find a way to annoy me?
Lara shivered, shaking her head to dispel any unwelcome thoughts. The idea of becoming Jethru's disciple was exciting—but this old man was certainly a handful. Before she could respond, Jethru waved them off. "The three of you rest here. I'm going to the waterfall for a bath. We leave in an hour."
Jethru returned after an hour and led the group out of the cave through a different exit—one wider and far safer than the treacherous path Lara had used earlier.
That exit was gone during modern times, blocked by stalactites and stalagmites that met and formed a huge pillar.
They walked for another hour, heading west along the Ourea slope. As they emerged into a clearing, a breathtaking sight unfolded before them—a plateau that looked familiar yet unfamiliar.
Her breath hitched. She recognized it instantly. This was Gaeya's Throne, a geological marvel that would, in modern times, make the county of AzuVerda famous worldwide.
The plateau stretched out like a colossal semi-circular chair, its flat surface spanning approximately 500 square meters. On one side, the steep, rocky slope of Mount Roca loomed, its peak only nine meters above the plateau. The summit, a near-perfect triangular tip, resembled the crown of a regal throne.
Viewed from Mount Ourea, the formation truly looked like a throne fit for a deity, hence its name, Gaeya's Throne.
In her era, erosion had weathered one side of the plateau, and Roca's peak had lost its pristine symmetry, turning jagged and uneven. But now, seeing it in its unspoiled glory, Lara finally understood the origin of its name.
Her gaze lingered on the awe-inspiring landscape, a blend of natural artistry and grandeur, as a sense of wonder filled her heart.
"Hey girl, why are you spacing out? Don't tell me you're scared of the hanging bridge. Unfortunately, we need to cross it to reach my house."