[ March 15, 1973 ]
The quiet spring morning was again disrupted by the noise of explosions and claps from strikes, and if not for the sound-dampening barrier around Ryozanpaku, the nearest neighbors would have long ago complained to the police about the dojo where everything constantly explodes. Three men — a stern elderly gray-haired Englishman in a suit, a tall muscular youth, and a short Chinese man in a green suit — watched this battle, approvingly nodding their heads or conversely, shaking their heads. However, an ordinary person still wouldn't understand anything in the mess of flashing silhouettes and exploding earth.
If one looked at the battle through their eyes, one could understand that a muscular two-meter giant in a green kimono with a long beard and blonde hair was fighting against a teenager who looked about 13-14 years old. Thanks to his fit, athletic but not over-muscled figure, even in the rather loose white kimono, no one would mistake him for a girl anymore, despite his frankly pretty face and long hair. [ image ]
If you looked closely, the opponents used only three techniques, which they constantly combined - steel spirit barrier, iron shirt, and shield-breaker — as Arthur had named the technique of Ryozanpaku's elder. Of course, they weren't equal, but sensei didn't hope to make his student equal to himself in half a year - that would take decades of work. That's exactly why he used no more strength than his student had, and was glad that the fight was ending in a draw.
Here Hayato attacks Arthur with a sweep, but the latter, as if predicting this move, jumps just enough to avoid it and attacks with his leg in the air, colliding with sensei's steel block and immediately pushes off from it to avoid getting caught in a grapple, increasing the distance between them. Furinji almost instantly closes the distance and rewards his student with a hail of strikes, which the latter receives on the shimmering barrier on his palms.
"Stop," Hayato stops the fight, raising his hand, and the student stops at the same moment, removing the dense black blindfold that had been on his face the entire time. "Now attack me with everything you have."
"Yes, sensei," summoning his wand, which seemed to appear in his hand, Arthur unleashes dozens of different charms - fog, earth liquefaction, sound wave, blazing shield, ethereal armor, invisibility, muffled steps — everything to protect himself and complicate the fight for his opponent.
However, Arthur understood that Furinji was holding back. If he fought seriously, Arthur would already be lying unconscious. Which he demonstrated by instantly appearing before Arthur and striking... an illusion.
The original had already left with a blink and covered the place where he had just been with a wall of fire, compressing it around the Elder, but one clap of his hands and it all dissipated.
"Excellent, student, excellent! Now your training with me can be considered finished," Hayato laughed thunderously.
"Why are you shouting here? You woke up Miu," an annoyed Shizuka came out of the house, rocking the grown little girl in her arms, who already clearly had the same blonde hair as her father and grandfather.
"Oh, sorry, goddaughter," Arthur approached the girl, having first cleaned himself with nonverbal charms out of habit, forgetting that the wand was in his hand. The girl immediately fell silent and laughed joyfully.
"Amazing. As soon as you take her in your arms, she immediately calms down," Shizuka said. But there was nothing surprising about this - the youth used his aura to calm the girl.
"You just need to know how to handle children," the guy smirked, passing the girl on to her grandfather's arms and asked him:
"Why do you think I've finished training? I still couldn't touch you."
"To touch me, you still have a long way to grow, but I'll also become stronger by that time, right?" the happy grandfather nursed his granddaughter, making faces at her. "But the main thing is, you managed to deceive me with your illusion, and that's already a master's indicator."
"I never once touched my father," Saiga approached and smiled, watching how his usually stern father turned into the kindest person in the world at the sight of Miu.
"But don't think I'm kicking you out, student. You can come to Ryozanpaku as if it were your home and continue training as you grow up. It's just that at the moment I have nothing to teach you - stronger techniques you can't handle, and weaker ones don't suit you or you've already outgrown them."
"Thank you, I'm grateful to you for your teaching and kind treatment of me," Arthur bowed not only to Hayato, but also to Shizuka, Saiga, Phineas, and even Ma Kensei, that old pervert. Each of them helped Arthur in some way, showing him techniques or giving advice. Over half a year, the guy became "one of them" not only thanks to resurrecting the girl, but also thanks to his kind nature and cheerful character.
"Oh yes, I almost forgot," the Elder disappeared and appeared almost immediately, as usual absolutely silently. In his hands were red steel bracers, composed of separate metal strips that overlapped each other. Blowing dust off them, he said:
"Here, take this, it's my gift to you as my student."
"Oh, sensei, you shouldn't have," Arthur was embarrassed.
"Take it, take it, I found them in some ancient samurai cave anyway."
"Let me guess, he was a living dead? Or an immortal mummy?"
"No, they were just lying around," he waved his hand dismissively, and Arthur was speechless. "But even I couldn't break them, so they're valuable."
"Thank you, sensei," if the world's strongest martial arts master couldn't break them, what were they made of? Adamant?
"Tonight we'll have a festive dinner, and then you decide for yourself whether to stay or travel further," the Elder said and, whistling a tune, went inside the house, passing Miu to his daughter-in-law. Arthur went to his room to pack.
***
"Pixie, we're packing," I said entering the room. The little fairy in the dollhouse, sitting in funny glasses, immediately gathered a pile of her paper sheets, which were smaller than a fingernail in size, and put them in an equally funny desk.
The dollhouse wasn't simple either and represented a masterpiece of artificing, since inside it were an office, kitchen, living room, bathroom, attic, and bedroom, all of them absolutely working copies of their larger counterparts.
No, of course, it would be easier to enlarge her with "Engorgio," but she doesn't like that. Flying out of the house, she touched the rune carved on the outer wall of the house with her wand and reduced it to suitcase size.
In general, my Pixie had changed the most, not only in terms of her strict secretary costume with glasses, but also in terms of her intelligence, especially after Phineas performed the familiar binding ritual. Now I didn't need to strain to hear her thoughts and fear burning out her little brain. Not at all, we could communicate mentally at any time. Plus, I could share energy with her and always knew where she was.
"Pi-pi!" she said proudly and transmitted a mental image to me, saying she was ready for anything.
"I'm proud of you, my girl," I transmitted a response thought to her, gathering my things and tidying the room, removing transfigured items and packing the small artificer's kit standing on my desk. The large kit takes up an entire room, and when I suggested buying one, Phineas said I should make it myself, especially since we had just recently covered spatial enchantments.
"What, student, don't want to leave?" Phineas knocked and, waiting for my approval, entered the room. Black didn't like rudeness and impoliteness, and that's exactly why, despite having the right to burst into my room any day or night, as he did during Hayato's training, he always knocked and entered only after receiving permission.
"Both yes and no," I answered with a heavy sigh. "I understand that sitting in one place won't achieve much, and I want to see mom not just on weekends, but still, I've grown attached to them."
"You know how to make long-distance portkeys, there's your practice," he smirked, and I grimaced. I can do it, but splinching still happens in two cases out of ten. But Black is right - it's not enough to know in theory, you need to achieve if not perfection, then a result close to it in practice.
"By the way, teacher, you told me you would still explain why you help me even more than is proper for a student," we had such a conversation half a year ago, but he brushed it off.
"Since I promised, I'll tell you," creating a comfortable-looking Victorian-style chair from air, Black sat down and activated the dome of secrets in the ring on his hand, which to my shame he mastered faster than me. Although how many years of practice does he have? "As you know, I was expelled from the family, but that doesn't mean I feel bad about it. Yes, I don't like its politics, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to forget all the good it gave me. And I see that if things continue this way, in ten to twenty years it will simply disappear."
"Why?" I wasn't afraid to interrupt my teacher, since I had long figured out when questions could be asked and when they shouldn't. I figured it out the hard way, walking around in a pink dress on such days and making everyone around laugh.
"Because they're... too stubborn, conservative, pureblooded. Not ready to accept the new, not ready even for the family's survival to retreat, compromise, or lie low for a while. A storm is coming in England's magical world, even I understand this, though I haven't lived there for many years. Purebloods are increasingly oppressing Muggle-borns, and there are more and more of them each year against the backdrop of bloodline degeneration. In response, Muggle-borns under Dumbledore's banner are oppressing purebloods in return. One spark is enough, one new Dark Lord, and everything will ignite."
"And one such has appeared, right?" I guessed.
"Yes, he appeared and is actively recruiting supporters. Actually, I don't care about the old generation of Blacks - it's long past time for them to retire and practice magic or live out their last years in their residences, but I feel sorry for the young ones. I wouldn't want to suddenly remain the last Black on Earth."
"Then why don't you help them yourself?"
"I can't. I told you, they're too proud and unyielding and won't let me near the young ones even at cannon shot distance. And fight my own family by force? I won't go that far."
"So you want me to help the Blacks?"
"I'm only asking this of you, not ordering as teacher to student. In the future you'll have enough strength and intelligence to if not save my family, then at least not let it die out," I thought, thought hard. The teacher gives me much, much more than an ordinary master gives a student. Is it worth agreeing and sticking my head in the lion's mouth, especially considering I suspect who that dark lord is? "Naturally, I won't send you unprepared now, especially since there are no active actions from either side yet. And of course, you can refuse and we'll forget about this conversation."
"I see that you're honest with me, that's pleasing. Do I necessarily have to enter battle?"
"If it can be avoided, I'll only be glad. It's up to your discretion," I knew I could refuse. I knew that even after this, Black would teach me conscientiously - that's the kind of person he is. But I still answered with agreement.
"I'm in your debt," Black bowed to me and left the room. And I remained and thought about why he doesn't simply hire mercenaries to back up his family? And then I understood — he doesn't need just a fighter, or rather not only that, he needs someone who can change his family's opinion.
Someone who can sway at least some of the Blacks to his side, since they respect the strong. He's not telling me to climb the barricades and shield the Blacks with my chest, he only spoke about the family's survival, and that's already an achievable task. But most importantly, now I understand why Phineas is making a monster out of me and spending so much effort on me, which means I can work with him.
After this important question was closed, or opened, I thought about what else had changed in my life, besides receiving the title of martial arts master, though I don't consider myself worthy of it yet. My mom and Ludwig finally matured and, embarrassed, announced their wedding to me, which will take place in two weeks. Jacqueline and Alain already got married without making a fuss.
But with friends... with friends there are problems. Or rather not so - a quite natural but no less sad process was happening, which had started long ago. Apolline and Patrick had their own friends with whom they found it much more interesting than with me. While we studied together this wasn't so noticeable, but during training at Ryozanpaku I realized I was growing more and more distant from them.
I want to talk about new runes, charms, spells, or techniques, and they want to talk about grades, girls, boys, and school jokes. I simply wasn't interested in being with them, and they with me, especially now when there was a choice in friends. Maybe later, when they mature, everything will change, but I'm no longer a little boy and understand that things won't be the same as before. And did I ever really treat them as friends? Probably not, more like my children. Is this sad? Yes, but that's life's poetry. Friends and lovers must be sought among those you consider your equals.
"Pi-pi," sensing my mood, the fairy hugged my nose and began stroking it.
"Yes, yes, Pixie, I love you too," I said.
***
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!