Chapter 30: Father's Judgment
Mei led them through the courtyard toward the rear of the estate. The training ground ?
The wind was cool, and the sky above was clear, the sun dipping low on the horizon. The rhythmic sound of steel striking steel echoed from the far side of the yard.
Phyro's heart quickened.
He knew that sound.
"Your father is waiting," Mei said, stepping aside and allowing them to approach.
Kaien Nishiki stood alone in the middle of the training grounds, his figure imposing against the backdrop of the setting sun. He was already wearing his training armor—the same black, reinforced gear he had worn for as long as Phyro could remember. His long hair, streaked with silver, was tied back in a neat ponytail. In his hand, he held a long, wooden practice sword, its polished surface gleaming in the dimming light.
He was waiting.
Phyro swallowed his nerves, stepping forward with Klein close behind him. The atmosphere felt charged, as if every stone in the yard had been placed with intention, each gust of wind whispering a challenge.
"You're late," Kaien said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Klein, unfazed as ever, shrugged. "We arrived exactly when we were meant to."
Kaien's gaze shifted toward them—piercing, cold. Then, he turned, raising his practice sword and holding it at the ready.
"Phyro," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Step forward."
Phyro hesitated for a moment, then stepped onto the training grounds, the ground firm beneath his boots. His father's eyes never left him as he approached.
"You've spent months training at the academy," Kaien began, his tone steady and analytical. "Show me what you've learned."
He said , throwing Phyro a simple wooden sword
Phyro nodded, his hands instinctively tightening around his wooden sword. This was his moment—the culmination of everything he'd learned. He'd been tested in dungeons, faced monsters, and had even fought alongside his elder brother, but this was something else.
This was his father.
Without warning, Kaien's blade came down—a swift, powerful strike aimed at Phyro's chest.
Phyro's body moved on instinct. He sidestepped, raising his sword to intercept the blow. But the force of the strike made his arms tremble, the sheer weight of it pushing him back.
Kaien didn't pause. He was already in motion, attacking again, this time from the side.
Phyro's heart raced as he twisted his body, barely avoiding the strike, his own sword coming up to block the next attack. He gritted his teeth—Kaien was relentless.
"You're slower than you think," Kaien said, his voice calm, as though he were simply discussing the weather. "Focus. You have the instinct, but your reactions are sluggish."
Phyro's mind raced as he dodged and parried. Sluggish? Was he really that slow? He couldn't be!
Kaien's next move was lightning fast—his sword came in low, aiming for Phyro's legs.
[Combat Instincts] activated.
Phyro's body responded, stepping back and swinging his sword upward in a desperate block. The force of the collision nearly threw him off-balance, but he held firm. He wasn't going to give in.
Kaien's gaze sharpened. "You're not focused enough. If this had been a real battle, you would already be dead."
The sting of his words cut deeper than any blade.
Phyro's chest tightened, but he pushed it aside. Not yet. He wasn't finished.
He pressed forward with renewed resolve, attacking with a flurry of quick strikes. Kaien parried them effortlessly, his movements precise, controlled, never wasting energy.
"You're still trying to rely on speed," Kaien said, blocking another strike and sending Phyro stumbling back. "But you lack control. Your technique is all over the place."
Phyro's grip on his sword tightened. He was frustrated—but he wouldn't let it show.
He took a deep breath, trying to center himself, focusing on what Kaien had taught him before: Control. Patience. Precision.
He feigned a weak attack, baiting Kaien into a counter. When Kaien moved to strike, Phyro stepped inside the reach of his blade, his own sword coming up in a clean, controlled strike toward his father's chest.
Clang!
Kaien blocked the attack with the flat of his blade, his expression unreadable.
"Better," Kaien said, lowering his sword. "Still lacking in precision, but better."
Phyro exhaled slowly, his arms aching from the exertion. But he wasn't about to give up.
Kaien stepped back, sheathing his sword. "You've improved. But there is much more to be done."
Klein, who had been watching the entire exchange, spoke up. "So, when does the real training start?"
Kaien turned toward him, his eyes gleaming with that same calculated intensity. "Tomorrow. At dawn."
Klein raised an eyebrow. "Of course."
Kaien gave a sharp nod. "If you wish to prove yourself, then do so."
With that, he turned and began walking toward the exit of the training grounds, his pace steady.
Phyro stood there, panting, his body sore from the intensity of the sparring. His father's judgment was harsh, but it wasn't without merit. He still had a long way to go.
Klein slapped him on the back. "Well, looks like we're not going to get much sleep tonight."
Phyro exhaled, a tired smile tugging at his lips. "I'm going to need it."
Tomorrow would be another challenge. But Phyro knew one thing for sure He wasn't backing down.
End of Chapter.