Sharpening the Edge

Monday, October 27th, 07:30.

New Jersey,

Gotham City,

Gotham Heights.

Esau stood barefoot on the cool, polished wooden floor of the dojo, rolling his shoulders as he eyed the Armless Master with wary curiosity. He had spent the last half-hour engaged in rigorous training, pushing his body to its limits, but he knew this was only the beginning.

The Armless Master, despite his lack of arms, had demonstrated a mastery of movement and technique that defied logic. Every step, every shift of weight was purposeful, flowing seamlessly into the next motion like a river carving its path through stone. Esau had expected nothing less from a man whom Bruce Wayne himself had trained under.

Just as Esau was catching his breath, the doors to the dojo slid open with a deliberate hush, and seven figures stepped inside. Each moved with a controlled grace that spoke of experience, their sharp, assessing eyes locking onto Esau the moment they entered. They were clad in dark green gis, their expressions calm but unreadable, and as they spread out in a loose semi-circle, Esau instinctively straightened, knowing these weren't ordinary students.

The Armless Master, still kneeling in his usual meditative pose, finally spoke, his voice as smooth as the surface of still water. "Maelstrom, these are my seven disciples," he said, his gaze fixed on Esau. "Each of them has trained under me for years, mastering different aspects of combat. They will be your sparring partners from now on."

Esau's eyes flickered across the group, analyzing them. Their postures, the way they carried themselves—it was clear they were experienced fighters. There was no hesitation in their movements, no wasted energy.

One of them, a tall and lean young man with short-cropped hair and calculating eyes, stepped forward. "Is this an evaluation?" He asked, glancing at the Armless Master. "Or are we testing his limits?"

Esau smirked at the way he said his as if he wasn't standing right in front of them. "You can try," he said, rolling his neck, the audible crack breaking the tension in the air. "But you might not like what you find."

The Armless Master's lips curled slightly in something that might have been amusement. "Maelstrom, based on your current level, you will begin against two of my disciples," he announced. "If you prove yourself capable, we will adjust accordingly."

Esau raised a brow. "Starting small, huh?"

The Armless Master ignored the jab. "Jun, Lian. Step forward."

The moment their names were spoken, two of the disciples moved instantly. Jun was the one who had spoken earlier, his stance sharp and precise, while Lian, a wiry woman with striking eyes, moved with the poised tension of a snake ready to strike. They bowed respectfully to the Armless Master, then turned toward Esau, taking their stances.

Esau exhaled slowly, shaking his hands loose as he positioned himself into a relaxed but prepared posture. His body was already anticipating their movements, his instincts sharpening like a blade being drawn from its sheath.

"Begin," the Armless Master commanded.

Jun moved first, closing the distance with the kind of speed that only came from years of training. He threw a feint with his left hand before pivoting into a lightning-fast side kick aimed at Esau's ribs. At the same time, Lian shot in from his blind spot, her movements barely making a sound.

Esau reacted instantly. He shifted his weight just enough to let Jun's kick graze past him before twisting on his heel, his left arm snapping up to block Lian's incoming elbow strike. The impact reverberated through his arm, but he barely had time to acknowledge it before Jun was already repositioning, snapping another kick aimed at the side of his knee.

'They're fast.'

Esau bent his leg slightly, absorbing the impact rather than letting it hyperextend. Then, without hesitation, he pushed forward. He turned sharply, his foot sweeping low to take Lian off balance. She adjusted at the last second, hopping over his attack, but Esau used the momentum to drive his shoulder forward, smashing into Jun's chest. The impact sent the young man staggering back, but before Esau could capitalize, Lian was already on him again, her hand striking toward his throat with pinpoint accuracy.

Esau leaned back just enough to avoid it, feeling the wind of her fingers brushing past his skin, and then countered. His arm snapped up, catching her wrist, twisting it just enough to force her off balance before he sent a sharp knee toward her midsection.

Lian twisted her body mid-air, rolling away from the attack, but Esau was already moving again, his attention flicking back to Jun. The young man had recovered and came at him with renewed ferocity. Esau caught the first punch, redirected the second, and ducked beneath a third before stepping inside Jun's guard. With a quick burst of force, he slammed his elbow into Jun's sternum, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Jun gritted his teeth, but instead of staggering back, he grabbed onto Esau's arm, twisting into a throw. Esau shifted with the motion, preventing himself from being completely flipped, but the adjustment gave Lian the opening she needed.

She moved like a shadow, appearing at his side and driving a palm strike toward his temple. Esau barely managed to block, but she followed up with a rapid succession of strikes, each one forcing him further into a defensive position.

'They're coordinated,' he realised. 'They know how to use each other's attacks to keep me from gaining momentum.' A slow smirk tugged at his lips. 'Good. This is what I need.'

Rather than continue defending, Esau surged forward. He feinted toward Lian, forcing her to react, then turned sharply and drove a powerful roundhouse kick toward Jun. The kick connected solidly with his side, sending the disciple tumbling across the mat.

Before Lian could capitalize, Esau spun with the momentum, his extended arm catching her in the midsection. She twisted with the impact, minimizing the damage, but Esau was already pressing the advantage. He stepped in close, grabbed her by the collar, and swept her leg out from under her, sending her crashing to the mat.

Both disciples were down.

Silence filled the dojo, only broken by the steady rhythm of breathing. Esau took a step back, exhaling through his nose, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

From his position, the Armless Master observed silently before nodding in approval. "Satisfactory."

Esau raised a brow. "Satisfactory? I just put two of your best students on the floor."

The Armless Master's lips curled ever so slightly. "Yes. But now…let's see how you fare against three."

Esau chuckled, shaking his head. 'Guess I asked for this.' He rolled his shoulders, stepping back into position as three more disciples stepped forward.

The real training had just begun.

-X-

Sunday, October 26th, 10:00.

New Jersey,

Gotham City,

Gotham Heights.

Esau stepped into Jason's home, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders. His body ached—not in the way it did after a brutal fight, but in the way that signified proper, deliberate training. The Armless Master's disciples were no joke, and the day's sparring had left him feeling the strain of constantly adjusting his strategy to multiple skilled opponents. It was exactly what he needed.

As he entered the living room, he found Jason sitting on the arm of the couch, sipping a glass of whiskey while Ted Grant leaned back in a chair, arms crossed over his broad chest. The veteran fighter exuded a quiet confidence, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto Esau as he stepped inside.

Jason smirked, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Back already? I figured the old man would have you crawling back on your hands and knees after training with his disciples."

Esau scoffed, dropping onto the couch with a huff. "I'm still in one piece, so I'd say it went pretty well."

Ted raised a brow. "The Armless Master's disciples, huh? Those guys any good?"

Esau nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're solid. Fighting two at a time was already tough, but then he threw three at me after that. They fight smart—coordinated, fast, and they don't let up."

Jason chuckled. "Yeah, I might've mentioned to the old man that you needed experience dealing with multiple skilled opponents."

Esau shot him a dry look. "Figures."

Ted frowned slightly, his sharp instincts picking up on something. "Alright, I'm missing something here. What exactly are you training for? I get that you want to improve your hand-to-hand, but this sounds like more than just getting better at fighting."

Esau exhaled, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "It is," he admitted. "Jason knows, but I haven't explained it to you yet."

Ted gestured for him to go on, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Esau took a deep breath before launching into his explanation. "My powers…they're not like someone flipping a switch. I don't just activate them and control them like some metahuman ability. They're tied to something deeper, something primal. To gain control over them, I have to fight a manifestation of those powers—basically a doppelgänger of myself that's completely attuned to my demonic side."

Ted's expression didn't change, but the flicker of understanding in his eyes showed he was processing the information.

"I've managed to control the power of one tail so far," Esau continued. "But my current fight is against the two-tailed version. And this one's different—it can create clones, which makes fighting it even harder. That's why training against multiple opponents at once is important for me. I need to develop the instincts and skills to handle fighting multiple versions of myself, all of whom have access to the powers I'm still struggling to control."

Ted let out a low whistle. "So, let me get this straight. You're fighting yourself, but it's not really yourself—it's this demonic version of you inside your own mind, and every time you get stronger, it gets stronger too?"

"That's about the gist of it," Esau confirmed.

Jason leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "And here's the kicker, Ted—when Esau fights in his mindscape, his real body goes berserk. No conscious control, just raw demonic instinct. That's where I come in. When he's in his head fighting, I keep his body in check. And since I can't be in two places at once, I use Etrigan to match him while he's out of it."

Ted blinked. "So, what you're telling me is, while this kid's mentally fighting his own demon inside his head, his real body turns into a mindless monster, and Jason here lets a demon take over to fight him in real-time?"

Esau nodded. "Pretty much."

Ted let out a bark of laughter. "That might be one of the craziest damn things I've ever heard—and I've been in the Justice Society."

Jason smirked. "Told you he was interesting."

Ted shook his head, his amusement fading into something more serious. "I'll admit, kid, that's a hell of a challenge. Training's one thing, but what you're doing? That's a whole different level. You're not just fighting—you're trying to stay yourself while fighting."

Esau's lips curled slightly. "Yeah…that's about right."

Ted rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, hell, I won't pretend I've ever trained someone to fight their own inner demon before, but I do know how to train a fighter to push past their limits. You've got raw talent, no doubt about that—but talent can only take you so far. If you want to take that next step, you need refinement. You need to be sharp. If you're serious about this, then I'll do my part. I'll make sure your striking's as crisp as it can be."

Esau met his gaze, seeing nothing but genuine intent in the man's expression. He gave a firm nod. "I appreciate it, Ted. I really do."

Ted waved him off. "Don't thank me yet, kid. We're gonna see just how much punishment you can take before you start thanking me."

Jason grinned. "Oh, he can take a lot."

Esau rolled his eyes before standing up. "Alright, then. No point wasting time—let's get started."

Ted cracked his knuckles, rising from his chair. "That's what I like to hear."

Jason leaned back, watching the two head toward the training room. He smirked to himself, shaking his head. 'This is going to be fun to watch.'