Chapter:17 - The Master's Blade

Kingsland Arc: Chapter:17 - The Master's Blade

The eighth dawn broke with a sharp, unforgiving brilliance, mirroring the clarity in Ronin's mind. His lean body was still a symphony of deep, protesting aches, but the constant, searing pain of his first days had dulled to a manageable throb. His perpetually bandaged hands, though still scarred, felt stronger, tougher, imbued with a nascent resilience. He had learned to summon Demonic Fortification on command, turning his skin into polished basalt. He could unleash controlled bursts of Shadow Gale, blurring through space like a phantom. The beast within was still a wild, dangerous thing, but he now held its leash, however tenuously. He had not broken. He would not break.

He dressed with less agony today, his movements still stiff but deliberate. The obsidian collar around his neck remained, a cold, heavy presence, a constant reminder of his silenced magic, and the singular path Baelish had set him on.

In the dining hall, a tense anticipation hung in the air. Chou, Rafaela, and Yue Xin watched Ronin with overt curiosity now. Chou's sturdy frame was fully recovered, his eyes holding a mix of respect and a challenge that Ronin recognized. Rafaela, her kind face now fully restored to its usual warmth, offered a gentle, nervous smile, her gaze filled with concern. Yue Xin, her slender posture elegant, observed him with an unwavering, analytical gaze, her brow perpetually furrowed in deep thought, an almost scientific interest in the raw power she knew lay within him. Baelish was already a dark, unmoving silhouette by the unlit hearth, his ancient eyes fixed on Ronin, studying his every strained movement.

"Training yard," Baelish's voice cut through the quiet, flat and unyielding, yet carrying a subtle tremor of anticipation. "Now."

Ronin's stomach churned, but this time, it was more exhilaration than dread. He pushed away from the table, his gaze locked with Baelish's unreadable eyes, feeling the weight of the coming trial.

The training yard was stark in the pre-dawn gloom, illuminated by the cold light of enchanted lanterns. The gnarled tree post stood, a silent testament to his pain. The piles of logs were reduced to splinters. Today, the yard held no dummies, no scattered rocks. Only open, packed earth. And Baelish.

"Your body is a weapon, boy, but it must learn to wield other weapons," Baelish stated, his voice a low, resonant rumble. He drew a practice sword, its blade dull and unsharpened, but heavy and balanced in his hand. It hummed faintly with latent energy, though Baelish showed no outward sign of magic. "Today, you will integrate these elements. You will face a true challenge. You will face me."

Ronin's eyes widened, his breath catching. Sparring with Baelish? The master who had moved with impossible speed, who had crushed stone to dust? This was beyond anything he had imagined.

He drew Sei and Kuro, the twin blades feeling light, almost alive, in his hands. He took his stance, his lean frame tensing, the black aura of Demonic Fortification already shimmering faintly around his skin.

"Your objective," Baelish explained, his voice sharp and precise, "is simple: Land a single, clean strike on me. Not a scratch, but a decisive blow. Use only your physical prowess. No magic. No uncontrolled outbursts. Every move must be calculated. Every strike, earned."

With that, Baelish lunged. His movements were fluid, ancient, and terrifyingly fast. He was a blur of black cloth, his practice blade whistling through the air, aimed at Ronin's weak points. Ronin activated Shadow Gale, his body blurring, weaving through the onslaught. He was fast, faster than any human, darting around Baelish, trying to find an opening. He felt the immense power of his Demonic Fortification shrugging off the air pressure from Baelish's near misses, but the sheer speed and precision of the master's attacks were overwhelming.

Baelish pressed the attack relentlessly, forcing Ronin to constantly move, to evade, to think faster. "Too slow, boy! Your mind hesitates! The demon blood reacts, but you do not command it!" His voice boomed through the yard, each word a cutting lash. "Use your hardened form! Stop avoiding every blow! Absorb what you must to gain position!" He struck, a powerful, blunt blow to Ronin's chest. Ronin's Demonic Fortification absorbed much of the impact, but still sent a jarring shockwave through him. He stumbled back, gasping.

Ronin gritted his teeth. He needed to be more aggressive, not just reactive. He activated a continuous flow of Demonic Fortification, his skin taking on a deeper, obsidian sheen. He lunged forward with Shadow Gale, blurring towards Baelish, his twin blades a whirlwind of motion. He aimed a precise slash at Baelish's side, then a quick parry with Kuro, deflecting Baelish's counter, and followed with a fierce stab with Sei. Baelish merely shifted, his movements economical, deflecting each blow with minimal effort, his dull blade moving with impossible grace.

He tried again, channeling his strength. He feigned a lunge, then used Shadow Gale to instantly appear behind Baelish, swinging Kuro in a wide arc. But Baelish was already there, his practice blade meeting Kuro with a resounding CLANG! A shockwave of pure, physical force radiated outwards, jarring Ronin's arms. Baelish's strength was monstrous.

Chou, Rafaela, and Yue Xin watched from the house's edge, their faces a mix of awe and trepidation. Chou's eyes narrowed, tracking every impossible movement. "His speed... and his durability," he muttered, a profound respect in his voice. "He's like a different person." Rafaela bit her lip, wringing her hands, her kind eyes wide with worry. Yue Xin, her slender form rigid, observed Baelish's chilling precision, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "He's pushing Ronin to use the raw power consciously," she murmured, a flicker of understanding in her gaze. "Without the magical overflow."

Hours passed. Ronin was a trembling, sweat-drenched mess, his lean body shaking with exhaustion, but his determination remained unbroken. He had landed no strike. Baelish remained untouched, an unyielding wall of ancient power.

Finally, Ronin, seeing an opening, exploded with a desperate surge of Shadow Gale. He moved faster than ever before, his form flickering almost out of sight, activating Demonic Fortification to absorb any counter. He feigned a high strike, drew Baelish's guard up, then dropped low, aiming Sei at his master's knee.

Baelish reacted instantly, his foot snapping back, but Ronin's speed was unprecedented. The tip of Sei's dull blade tapped Baelish's knee guard. It wasn't a powerful blow, but it was a clear, definitive contact.

Baelish froze, his practice blade lowering. His dark eyes, which had been unreadable, widened fractionally, a flicker of profound surprise in their depths. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips, a chilling hint of pride.

"Good, boy," Baelish rumbled, his voice low, a gravelly whisper filled with satisfaction. "A clean hit. You have learned to command your body, to forge its might. To move and strike as the shadows do, and withstand as stone. You are ready for the next step." He looked at the vast forest, then back at Ronin, his silhouette tall and imposing against the rising sun. "Tomorrow, you will prove it."

Ronin collapsed, a gasping, trembling heap, his body utterly spent. But in his mind, the words echoed: Ready. He had not broken.