Chapter 10:"The world gives what you take"
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[TIME SKIP]
"Today marks the end of our training, Cael," the old man said, throwing a swift right hook.
"But tomorrow… will be your new beginning."
"You better show me the result of your training," he added, his voice firm. "Show me if you're truly ready for the path ahead."
Swisshhh!
Cael countered with a heavy push and launched a strong kick at the old man.
But the old man dodged effortlessly, launching himself backward off the ground with practiced grace.
"You're right, old man!" Cael shouted, bursting forward. "I'll show you that I'm ready!"
"My fists, my kicks—I've been honing them for months!"
He unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches, each one sharper, faster, more focused than before.
"My past… the hand I've been dealt—none of it matters anymore. I'll keep growing stronger! I'll carve my own fate. Anyone who stands in my way—"
His eyes blazed.
"—I'll lay waste to them!"
Cael jumped high into the air, tucking his body mid-spin and raising his right knee like a drawn spear.
The old man raised his arms to block, but in a flash—Cael vanished.
Folded Space.
He reappeared right in front of the old man—his knee poised like a battering ram ready to crush through.
THWACK!!
Cael's knee collided with the old man's foot, the impact startling the calm forest. A violent gust of wind blasted outward, kicking up leaves and dust in every direction.
"Then become the strongest, Cael!! Hahaha!!" the old man roared. "The world gives what you take!"
The words sent a jolt through Cael.
The world gives what you take.
"Hahaha!! Yes 'The world gives what you take' no truer words have ever been spoken old man." Cael laughed out loud.
His blood surged with energy. His conviction locked into place. Something inside him clicked, like a door finally opening.
"You're damn right!" Cael shouted, dashing forward again.
He disappeared and reappeared in bursts, moving so fast it looked like he was flickering in and out of existence. His motions blurred—each step sharper, faster, unpredictable.
Then—BANG!
Both their fists collided with immense force. A booming echo rang through the forest, loud and powerful like a war drum.
Cael had stacked the delayed energy of his earlier strikes—layering each one with precision.
A total of six overlapping impacts, all fused into that single punch.
His technique, Folded Impact, had evolved.
Cael had grown—his understanding of Interval, his Imprint, deepening with each passing day.
His other techniques had sharpened too. Folded Space was now more dynamic, while Echo Point had become dangerously unpredictable.
They jumped back from one another, breathing heavy, eyes locked.
"Old man," Cael said, settling into a low, focused stance, "this next wave will be my last. You better give me a proper answer to it."
"Heh," the old man grinned, raising both his hands. "You said it, kid. I'll let you see one of my real moves."
"I never told you my Imprint. It's time you know, at least you deserve to know it's name."
"It's name is BLADE!. And My name!...my name is Elusive Blade!!! Kid! Don't ever forget it!."
Slowly he got down to a fighting stance. The old man raised his arms, slow and sharp like a blade being drawn from its sheath.
He flattened his palms, his fingers tightly together like sharpened blades.
A flicker of light glinted off his hands—an edge, almost like steel.
Tension filled the air.
CRACK!!
In an instant, they both dashed forward—ground cracking beneath them, the air around them ripping like paper.
SSSSHHHH!
Their attacks met mid-air, slicing and blasting as hot wind erupted from the collision. Cael winced as a sharp line of blood trickled from his forearm—the old man's slicing palm had left a deep graze.
But Cael barely flinched. The energy stored from Folded Impact cushioned much of the damage.
They didn't stop.
Not for a second.
Strike after strike, kick after kick, their fight became a blur—leaves and dust whipping behind them like a dance of chaos. Their movements painted a violent storm on the forest canvas.
Then—
They split apart.
For a brief moment, the space between them stretched quiet and still.
Cael glanced at the old man's hands—now moving with deadly elegance. A blade dance.
The heat of the battle had dried the blood on Cael's hand.
Time seemed to freeze in his mind.
Now.
Cael vanished—only to reappear behind the old man like a phantom. His body tense, his energy coiled tight. He unleashed a massive kick aimed at the old man's side.
But the old man reacted just in time. His hands blurred with speed—so fast they left ghost-like afterimages.
And yet—
What he saw wasn't just Cael.
It was multiple versions of him—fractured reflections, ghostly imprints of every angle.
Echo Point.
The old man's eyes sharpened. In a split second, he abandoned offense and switched to defense—arms spinning, slashing, blocking from every direction.
Whack!! Snap!! Whip!!
Punches, elbows, knees, kicks—Cael's barrage hit all at once. Time itself seemed to slow as they exchanged blow after blow in an instant.
Their eyes met.
No words.
Just silent acknowledgment.
The old man's eyes sparkled—not from surprise, but from pride.
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All those months…
The bruises, the sweat, the endless days of training in the forest…
They had paid off.
The mountain's rocky slopes, the towering cedar trees, the wild rustle of forest wind—it all bore witness to Cael's journey.
Fourteen long years.
From a crumbling alley in Eastmark…
To here.
He was no longer just surviving.
He was rising.
Cael's muscles were lean and toned—his posture grounded in purpose.
He stood atop a tall cedar tree, looking out across the valley.
Far in the distance, the grand city of Novellis rose like a titan. Its skyscrapers glinted in the golden sun, their silhouettes reflecting in the serpentine rivers that curled across the continent of Elaris.
And there—just beyond the city—was the colossal structure that marked his next destination.
Novellis High Directive.
A massive campus of power, training, and prestige.
With its own walls, guards, and jurisdiction—a city of its own.
That was where his next chapter would begin.
"Cael! Get down here!" the old man yelled from the ground below.
Cael looked down at him, then back at the city once more.
The old man stared up at him.
"Hmph. The boy's changed," he muttered with a soft smile. "Will you be there for him next time, my friend?"
His tone was quiet—thoughtful.
The old man's eyes held a familiar sadness. One only old warriors carried.
Cael jumped down from the tree.
The world seemed to slow, time gently pausing as if acknowledging his leap.
The strings of fate stirred.
A journey had begun.
Would anyone stop him from reaching his goal?
Would anything stand in the way of his desire—to become stronger than anyone else?
His dream—to wield his own fate.
Only time would tell.
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No matter who stands in front of Cael. Friend or foe Cael cannot just let them be. He must be stronger. No he..has to be stronger.