Book 2: Chapter 28 – A New Path
"Ugh… What happened?" Jabari groaned, blinking as consciousness returned to him like waves breaking against the shore.
"Well, look who's finally awake."
Turning his head, Jabari spotted his Master seated cross-legged nearby, his face ashen and worn.
"What happened to you?" Jabari asked urgently, alarmed by the sickly pallor clinging to Aziz's skin like a shadow.
"He was hurt saving your life," August replied bluntly before Aziz could speak.
"What do you-" Jabari began, but the moment he opened his mouth, memories returned in a flood. The pain. The roaring blood. The searing agony that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out. The moment he had invoked [Empyrean Breathing] during the Beast-Warrior transformation.
Aziz gave a soft, humourless chuckle that quickly turned into a fit of coughing. His face turned even paler. "I don't know how or why, but something went very wrong during your transformation. Imamu's blood began attacking you from within, as if it thought of you to be a threat.
Luckily," Aziz added dryly, "your incredible Master was there to save the day."
"Old Man!" Jabari called out in alarm when Aziz began coughing once again.
"A mere drop of blood won't be the end of me," Aziz waved a hand wearily, dismissing the dramatic tone and telling his disciple not to get too close.
Jabari froze, nodding reluctantly. He could see the strain etched across every line on Aziz's face. The man was clearly fighting something within.
"But how did this even happen?" Jabari asked, his brows furrowed. "I thought the blood was purified."
Aziz exhaled slowly. "Imamu's blood held a fragment of its consciousness. When I drew it from your heart, it recognised I wasn't from Ulo. It must've thought I had nefarious intentions, as its next move was to try and devour me instead. I was just lucky I had the means to contain it – albeit only barely."
Jabari instantly knew what Aziz was referring to – his bloodline ability, the mysterious power to command blood. But that didn't stop the heavy tide of guilt that now crashed down on him.
'This was all my fault. If I hadn't been so greedy…
If I hadn't tried to refine the blood with [Empyrean Breathing]… I would've become a Beast-Warrior, and the old man wouldn't be suffering like this,' Jabari thought, his gaze fixed on his Master's trembling form. 'I keep saying I've learned my lesson. That I'll stop being so reckless. But when the next opportunity comes, I make the same mistake all over again…'
"How are you feeling?" August asked from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"No different," Jabari replied flatly, shoulders slumped.
Aziz gave a weak, lopsided smile. "I know you were looking forward to becoming a Beast-Warrior. But considering what almost happened to your heart, you should be glad there's no permanent damage."
Jabari knew he was right. The pain he'd felt before blacking out… it had gone beyond anything he thought the human body could endure. Like his soul was being torn from its shell.
But knowing that didn't dull the sting of failure. He hadn't just disappointed himself. He had failed his Master and, worse yet, Inayah. The weight of that failure dragged his spirit lower with every breath.
"All hope isn't lost," Aziz said, sensing the heaviness in Jabari's silence. "Nala's gone to the Institute's HQ to report what happened. She said she's never heard of a case like this, but perhaps those Elders at the top will have answers."
Still, Jabari didn't respond. His mind had already drifted into the abyss of doubt and disappointment.
That was, until Aziz's next words pierced through the gloom like a spear of lightning.
"Even if you can't become a Beast-Warrior," he said, voice low but steady, "there's still another path – one that could lead you to surpass even the strongest of Beast-Warriors."
At that, Jabari's head snapped up. And surprisingly, so did August's.
Aziz chuckled softly, the faintest gleam of mystery in his eyes.
"I see that got your attention," he said, smiling faintly.
"I never did tell you the real reason I'm here, did I?"
Aziz's voice was calm, but his words instantly captured Jabari's and August's attention.
"The truth is, I'm a general of the Khan Empire. Two years ago, the Emperor's daughter became the first foreigner to be granted the chance to become a Beast-Warrior – partly for the sake of building relations, but mainly because she's half-Ulo.
In return, though, the Khan Empire agreed to send someone to teach the people of Ulo the ways of a 'Wielder.' And that someone was me."
"A Wielder?" August echoed, his tone curious despite himself.
"What do you think the difference is between a weapon user… and a Weapon-Wielder?" Aziz asked in return, letting the question hang in the air.
Both boys wore the same puzzled expression.
"A weapon user," Aziz began, stepping forward, "treats their weapon like a tool – an object to swing, throw, or stab with. But a Weapon-Wielder…"
He paused, letting the words settle like a seed taking root.
"A Weapon-Wielder wields their weapon as if it were a part of their body – an extension of their very being."
Still sensing uncertainty, Aziz sighed and stood up with a groan. "Looks like you'll need a demonstration."
With a smooth motion, he drew the sabre at his side.
It was the first time Jabari had ever seen the blade unsheathed. A glistening silver edge caught the light, and blood-red runes shimmered faintly along its surface, exuding an aura both menacing and elegant – a blade that thirsted but with purpose.
"I'm going to perform a simple slash twice. Tell me if you can spot the difference."
The first strike came quickly. A clean, horizontal arc – flawless in technique, yet otherwise unremarkable. The second strike, however…
Jabari and August both froze.
Objectively, the movement was identical. But the sensation it left behind was completely different. The air shifted. The world stilled. In that moment, there was only Aziz and his sabre, bound together by something unseen yet undeniably powerful.
"So, tell me," Aziz said, sliding the blade back to his side. "What did you notice?"
August spoke first, surprisingly animated. "The first strike was ordinary. But the second…
As soon as you moved…
I couldn't tell where you ended, and the sabre began."
It was the most he'd ever said to a stranger in one go, but Jabari didn't even notice. His mind was still locked on that second strike, replaying it over and over like a dream refusing to fade.
"It was like you and your sabre had become one entity," Jabari added breathlessly, eyes wide with admiration.
"Exactly!" Aziz grinned. "A Weapon-Wielder is someone who has reached a level of harmony with their weapon – where it becomes not a tool, but a part of them."
He began pacing slowly as he explained.
"There are many benefits to becoming a Weapon-Wielder. You can comprehend weapon techniques twice as fast and with half the effort. Your strikes become sharper, swifter, and more powerful.
Though it doesn't offer the same raw physical augmentation as becoming a Beast-Warrior, wielding a weapon at this level does strengthen your body. But the greatest advantage by far is the ability to wield 'Battle Force.'"
"Battle Force?" Jabari asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Aziz lifted his sabre slightly.
A flickering white aura ignited around the blade, almost flame-like in shape.
"This is Battle Force. When you become one with your weapon, this energy is unlocked. In my case, it's called 'Sabre Force.'"
He moved fluidly through a few simple techniques, the aura trailing behind each motion like the echo of a tempest.
"Battle Force enhances the power behind each strike to extraordinary levels," he said. "But that's not even the most impressive part."
Suddenly, Aziz turned, and with a sharp breath, slashed toward a training dummy twenty metres away.
A brilliant crescent of white light erupted from the blade – a manifestation of pure intent and mastery – and cleaved through the air.
Schhhhiiinnk!
The dummy split cleanly in two, the halves falling apart in perfect silence.
August and Jabari stood wide-eyed, mouths agape.
"It allows for powerful ranged attacks," Aziz said with a proud smile, his sabre humming faintly in his grasp.
Jabari opened his mouth to speak, but Aziz suddenly doubled over, wracked by a harsh, rattling cough.
"I suppose using Sabre Force is still too demanding for me in this condition," Aziz said between heavy breaths, his voice strained yet tinged with dry humour.
Jabari stepped forward, his face clouded with worry, but Aziz waved him off with a weary hand. "Don't worry so much. I should be able to resolve the problem within the next month or so."
Though the reassurance didn't entirely ease his concern, Jabari chose to trust his Master's words and held back the questions building in his chest.
A moment passed in silence before August spoke up, his curiosity finally overwhelming his restraint.
"Who's stronger – Weapon-Wielders or Beast-Warriors?"
Though it was clear the timing wasn't ideal, Aziz's condition did seem a bit more stable now, and August's expression showed he couldn't suppress the question any longer.
"Weapon-Wielders," Aziz replied without pause, his answer delivered with unwavering certainty.
August raised a brow. "If Weapon-Wielders are stronger, then why does the rest of the world covet the Beast-Warrior formula so desperately?"
Aziz's lips curled in a tired smile. "Because while Weapon-Wielders are indeed more powerful, it's far easier to create a Beast-Warrior than it is to train a Weapon-Wielder."
Both boys blinked in disbelief.
They knew better than anyone just how brutal the Beast-Warrior selection process was.
Over 300 applicants had competed during the trials. Only 146 had passed the selection round. That meant more than half had already been eliminated. And of the remaining 146, outside of the eight seeded students, there was no guarantee the rest would even reach the rank of Beast-Warrior.
If they failed to reach the 75th platform on the Test of Will at the end of year selection, they'd be expelled – stripped of their chances to rise any further.
Even among the second-years who had climbed Hell's Stairway with them, barely half had succeeded.
And yet Aziz was saying this path – this brutal, uncertain path – was the easier of the two?
Aziz saw the disbelief on their faces and chuckled.
"Around one in five who try manage to become Beast-Warriors," he explained. "But out of a hundred well-trained warriors? You'd be lucky to find even one who can become a Weapon-Wielder."
Both boys stiffened.
"Even then, it takes most years of hard work to reach the level of a genuine Weapon-Wielder. And that's only for those who are already among the elite."
It was like someone had doused their heads in a bucket of ice water. The weight of the challenge pressed down heavily on their shoulders.
Aziz watched their reactions with amusement. "But…" he added, a sly grin creeping across his face, "those so-called elites didn't have me to train them."
"You?" August asked, his voice laced with doubt.
Aziz narrowed his eyes. "Don't underestimate me, brat! My Master was the very one who created the path of the Weapon-Wielder. I'm the disciple of the greatest swordsman to ever live. My knowledge of the path is second to none!"
Jabari's eyes widened as a memory flickered in his mind – the painting of a man beneath a moonlit Sakura tree, blade resting across his shoulders, a presence both serene and unshakable.
"The man from the painting…" he murmured.
Aziz nodded solemnly. "That's right. Your Grandmaster is one of the two greatest talents to ever walk the earth."
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