III

"Get up," Hunter heard the Grandmaster's unforgiving voice say.

He wanted to, he truly did. If only to punch the man in his face just once. But the buzzing in his ear, the thumping of his head, and his swollen left eye forced him to stay down. His body felt like a punching bag; one that was hit so hard its innards were falling out. He was sure that more than one thing was broke. But he wasn't the only victim.

Littered all around the training yard—on the dirt floor—were the groaning bodies of his brothers and sisters. There were 20 of them, including Hunter himself, and they were all instructed to attack at once; but still, their cruel taskmaster remained untouched. Even while Hunter's—and the other's—white robes were rapidly turning red and dirt-stained, the Grandmaster's were spotless.

"They call you the best of the best, my 'Blades', but it appears they are wrong." The Grandmaster's steely voice cut through their sounds of agony, mocking them.

They all heard something piercing skin, and those who could still see in his direction saw the man's infamous claws pop out. Hunter had seen them before, they all had, but it still managed to send a chill down his beaten form.

The 'Right Hand of God' as the legend named, held three blades, all metallic silver with razor-sharp points glinting in the afternoon sun. The 'Left Hand of Death', though having the same length and number of blades, was almost the opposite. Made of jagged, rough bone, they were the fingers of the reaper. The sight of all six together meant certain death to his enemies.

"My blades are dangerous," He continued, circling the yard, "They are unbent. Unbroken. Unrelenting. Are you capable of replacing them? No. Not yet. Maybe never. But, your choice is to strengthen or to break. Now get up. All of you. Or break."

Hunter wanted to bolt up. Wanted to show his strength, his determination. But he's been fighting since dawn. He's taken hundreds of blows. His body hurts. It cries out in protest at every movement. All he could manage was to prop himself up on his burning arms, and even that was only accomplished with groans, gritted teeth, and clenched eyes.

"Your leader rises," The Grandmaster told the others from above him, "But one man is nothing."

He felt his arm get kicked out from underneath him. His sore and bruised body falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

"One blade is nothing. Even one-hundred blades are nothing... if their wielder can't use them. My blades are on the floor, useless. Be better."

To emphasize his point, the Grandmaster put his boot on Hunter's back, pushing him further into the ground. It hurt. His pride was his body, the weapon he forged it to be, and it was being stepped on.

His pain grew numb. His adrenaline pulsed. Hunter knew the pain would be back. So he pushed the ground. He pushed it like it was the Grandmaster's face. Like all the rage he had, all the pain he endured was energy. Energy he could use to get back at his tormentor.

He threw off the boot and rose all in one movement. He was up. He was strong. He beat the demon. But just as quickly, he lost his footing. Hunter could feel himself shake. He didn't know if it was because of the anger he felt that all the effort was for nothing or because the pain was returning. He could feel the air making way for his body. He could almost feel the pain of hitting the... air.

Hunter was in the air. The Grandmaster had grabbed the back of his robe and hung him there, like a disobedient cat.

"This man is broken, but he is unbent and unrelenting. He is the only blade among you sharp enough to be of use to me. Be like him," He told them. Letting Hunter go and beginning to walk away, though not before telling them of their impending doom—their training the next day.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Hunter, freshly bandaged, hobbled down the hallway, clutching his ribs. Fortunately, he was wrong. Nothing was broke. The Grandmaster just made it feel like everything was.

But, the pain helped him focus. He remembered how each fist impacted him. How each punch he threw was avoided. The fight was a lesson etched in blood, and he tried to memorize it. He might not win against the Grandmaster, but he would get to punch him in the face at least once. Maybe then all the pain would be worth it.

"Hunter," He turned to his left. He must have been more lost in thought than he realized. The Grandmaster was there, out on the balcony that overlooked most of the compound: its multiple buildings and training yards.

Hurriedly saluting—even if it was to his back—Hunter greeted him; waiting for his inevitable dismissal. That's why it was shocking when the man turned and gestured to Hunter to join him. Hunter did, of course, standing just behind him, slightly to his left. They didn't speak for a time, giving Hunter the chance to see the surroundings.

It was beautiful from that height. The setting sun washed the lake and trees in soft illumination. Soft red light touched the whole place.

"You did good," The Grandmaster said, his voice losing some of its sharpness while he looked at him.

"I still lost."

The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow, "You expected to win?"

Hunter looked away from the man's piercing eyes, "No," he grumbled, "But I expected to do better. You're counting on us, on me. I can do better, Grandmaster. I will do better."

The Grandmaster glanced at him, and all was silent for a moment.

"The strongest people in history," he finally spoke, "They all had reasons to fight. The stronger the reason, the stronger they were. Your reason to fight shouldn't be to impress me, Hunter. It should be to leave your mark on history; to be worthy of leading the Blades. If that isn't your goal... then you need to rethink what you're doing."

It struck Hunter with a sudden sobriety, and he asked hesitantly, "Why do you fight?"

The Grandmaster looked up into the red sky with a wistful smile, "I fight because someone asked me to," he then looked at Hunter, "Now go back to your quarters. It seems you have a lot to think about."

Hunter nodded, slowly walking away. His body was tired, now his mind was too.