The grueling days of training under Duncan had shaped Harvey in ways he hadn't anticipated. What once felt like an endless struggle just to exist had shifted into something else entirely—control. His body had grown stronger, his movements more refined, and for the first time, he wasn't constantly fighting against the power gnawing inside him.
Each morning, he rose before the sun, pushing his body to its limits. He ran until his legs felt like they would give out, practiced his strikes until his arms ached, and endured Duncan's relentless sparring sessions. Every mistake was met with a sharp correction, and every success was given nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment.
But Harvey had begun to understand something—Duncan wasn't just training him for the sake of discipline. He was preparing him for something.
And that something arrived sooner than expected.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Duncan tossed a dull iron sword at Harvey's feet.
"Tomorrow, you fight a real opponent."
Harvey wiped sweat from his brow, still catching his breath from their latest sparring session. He glanced down at the sword before looking back up at Duncan. "Haven't I been fighting you this whole time?"
Duncan smirked. "Fighting me isn't the same as fighting someone trying to kill you."
A pit formed in Harvey's stomach. His training had been brutal, pushing his body to the brink, but it had always been controlled. The idea of facing a true opponent, one without restraint, was something else entirely.
"Who am I fighting?" he asked, his grip tightening around the sword's hilt.
Duncan simply motioned toward the treeline. "Get some rest. You'll need it."
Harvey stared at the darkening forest, his mind racing. As he walked back to his resting place, he flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the bracers Duncan had given him. They were deceptively heavy, forcing him to refine his movements rather than rely on raw force.
The power inside him still gnawed, but it was quieter now, more docile under his control. For the first time, he felt what it was like to have his strength remain within him rather than constantly slipping away. His body had begun to accept external energy—something he never thought possible.
Lying down, he closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come easily. His mind was filled with questions.
What kind of opponent was Duncan making him face?
Was he truly ready?
And if he wasn't… would he survive?