Two weeks later.
Noon light bled around the edges of the black curtains.
A boy sat cross-legged in the dark room's center.
His eyes were shut, his posture still.
Long, black hair brushed his shoulders.
A training sword lay across his lap.
He was motionless for several minutes, his breathing even and smooth.
Then, his eyelids opened.
Deep crimson eyes glowed in the room.
He stood, took the katana from his left, and sheathed it at his waist.
His grip was perfect as he began to move.
He swung the sword not awkwardly, but with clear intent and control.
He cut and slashed the air with purpose.
SWOOSH!
His blade carved vertical and horizontal arcs through the darkness.
Every cut.
Every slash.
Was executed with flawless precision.
His stance was rooted and strong.
His footwork was clean, without a single misstep.
Perfectly balanced.
His shoulders were relaxed, yet firm.
After a final series of slashes, he stopped.
He stared into the nothingness, but in his mind, an opponent took form.
The phantom struck.
He shifted his feet, sidestepping the imaginary blade.
He retaliated with a clean arc toward the opponent's head, but the foe twisted their blade, deflecting the strike. It wasn't a hard block. Their blade tilted, guiding the boy's sword to graze past in a shower of invisible sparks.
The boy's momentum carried him forward, his left side exposed.
The opponent lunged into the opening.
It seemed the fight was over, but the opening was a deliberate feint.
Seeing the sword aimed at his ribs, the boy reacted.
He slid his left foot back, pressed his right foot down, and spun a full circle, crouching low as his foot skidded across the floor.
The attack whistled harmlessly overhead.
He muttered softly, "Whirlwind Guard."
And unleashed a horizontal slash toward the opponent's waist.
This was no ordinary cut.
It was cleaner, faster, imbued with the boy's sheer will to strike his opponent.
As the blade neared its target, the opponent leaped, evading the slash by centimeters.
While the foe spun mid-air, the boy's voice cut through the silence.
"That was your mistake."
The opponent looked down.
The boy's sword was now sheathed on his back, his hand resting on the katana's hilt.
He gripped it. Blue lightning crackled around him, illuminating the dark.
His muscles coiled, his grip tightening.
"Flash Step: Lightning Slash."
He disappeared.
It was less movement and more teleportation, a blur too fast for the naked eyes to follow.
The airborne opponent saw nothing, only hearing the ring of steel.
SSHIIING! CLICK!
The boy reappeared behind them, katana already sheathed.
The lightning faded.
The opponent was still falling, the entire exchange happened in a heartbeat.
Then—
The phantom's head parted from its neck, a clean severance.
The body hit the floor and dissolved into nothing.
Vladislav exhaled, relaxing his lungs.
"I've finally done it," he smiled.
There was no blood; it was only a vision, a new method for his solitary training.
It wasn't as effective as a real fight, but it had honed his skill, even allowing him to create a technique.
Well—not created but more like he modified it. He had altered the Flash Step Slash Jian taught him, infusing it with lightning for greater speed.
"My first technique created by me, huh? Not bad," he clenched his fist.
"And today is the day."
Two weeks had passed, making a full month since he began training with Mary.
Today was the final test.
The day he had to block Mary's attack.
"Not gonna lie, I'm kinda anxious, but I can't have such feelings before even facing her."
He walked to the curtains and opened them.
Sunlight flooded the room.
"I've trained a lot; my sacrifice and discipline won't fail me," Vladislav said, determination hardening his tone.
"I'm ready—"
His red eyes shone like embers in the sun.
"—and I will not fail."
He turned and walked to the door.
His walk was different now—confident, purposeful, each step measured.
He gripped the door handle.
"Even if I do, I can just work hard again and try again because it's not how you begin but how you finish." With that final thought, he opened the door and left.
–––
Vladislav walked through the mansion's corridors.
He greeted the servants on his way.
Soon, he entered the vast garden, passing through it.
He looked up.
The color-changing hill stood in the distance, still tinged with red.
For some reason, this hill makes me feel some type of way I can't explain, he thought.
He paused at the hill's base.
He took a deep breath.
His hands rested on the katana's hilt.
"Let's go."
He began the climb.
Tension grew with each step, but he was ready.
Focus.
The hilltop neared.
Despite the pressure, a wide smile spread across Vladislav's face.
He was excited.
Some might call him crazy for smiling as if he isn't going to face a sovereign soon, but he didn't care.
He just wanted to know if he could block her attack, or draw his katana fast enough.
He knew she wasn't using her real strength, that she had adjusted to his level. Still, the excitement thrummed in his veins.
He reached the crest.
The moment his foot touched the top and the red lilies came into view, he felt it.
A subtle disturbance in the air. The sound of a katana being drawn.
The hill was empty, but he knew she was coming at terrifying speed from an unseen direction.
This was different from before; the pressure was suffocating. An overwhelming force advanced towards him.
He felt the weight on his shoulders.
Mary was moving faster than ever.
Since he couldn't see her, he closed his eyes, hand on his katana, and focused his senses.
In a second, she was upon him. Her katana sliced the air horizontally toward him with terrifying speed.
Ifhe can't block it, it's okay, we can still train more, but I know he can do it; he's my grandson after all, Mary thought.
Vladislav felt it—the blade was a heartbeat away.
But his fear was gone.
His grip firmed; his muscles tensed as his left foot stretched back.
"Here we go." He muttered.
He opened his eyes. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. His eyes flashed blue, then returned to crimson.
He saw Mary, close, her swing appearing slower to his perception.
He felt faster, limitless.
He was in a trance, though he didn't know it yet.
A flicker of blue ignited in his red irises.
His hand moved faster than ever before.
He drew the katana halfway and sheathed it in a single, fluid motion.
SSHIIING! CLICK!
For a couple of seconds nothing happened but then—
An invisible force met Mary's sword—
CLANG!
Metal shrieked against metal.
The impact sent a wave of air swaying the red lilies.
Mary's hand was pushed back.
But how?
Vladislav hadn't fully drawn his weapon.
To an untrained eye, it seemed he had only half-drawn. But Mary had seen the truth.
He had drawn, slashed upward to block her strike, and sheathed, all in a blink of an eye. His speed was unreal for a peak channeller. Her eyes widened in surprise, a massive smile spreading across her face.
How did he do that? she thought.
It's too early for him to grasp the technique yet.
This training was always about more than drawing; it was the first step to her katana technique: Quick Draw.
The user must draw and slash faster than the eye can see, creating an invisible arc to cut the enemy. Vladislav had done it.
She didn't care how; she only cared that he did.
Vladislav saw her smile.
Idid it, I fucking did it! A huge smile broke across his face.
"I almost thought I couldn't do it, but I did it," he clenched his fist.
A feeling of achievement washed over him; it felt good.
"This feeling... I want to feel more of it."
He had taken a major step.
He was growing stronger faster than he realized.
Iwill make sure to grow even more; this is just the beginning because I'm still too weak. I'm just an ant compared to my grandparents, my parents, and my uncles. If I want to protect my family like they do, I will have to push harder, he thought.
He was determined, despite his occasional laziness. He would get there.
Before he could continue, gentle arms wrapped around him.
"Congratulations, my dear, you actually did it. I'm so proud of you," she hugged him tight, resting her chin on his head.
He felt warm.
He always cherished his family; their kindness was a comfort.
A sudden, unexpected sadness welled up inside him.
Huh? Why am I feeling sad all of a sudden? Is it perhaps because my hardwork paid off and I perhaps want to cry of happiness? if Athelstan saw me like this he would definitely laugh at me, he chuckled inwardly.
A blurry memory flickered, but he dismissed it.
He returned the hug. "Thank you, Grandma; it was only possible because of your training and guidance."
"No, I just guided you, and the rest was on you; it all depended on you," she ruffled his head.
"Hehe, I guess," Vladislav replied with a smile.
"How did you draw that fast, little Vlad?" she asked.
"I don't know. All I remember is me touching my katana and then the world slowed down for a couple of seconds. Even you, Grandma, I could see you in slow motion for a bit..."
"I also felt like I could draw my katana faster than ever before and that I could see everything in that moment. My fear and tension had gone away. It was like—"
"—you were in a trance," Mary finished for him.
He nodded.
A trance in swordsmanship is the flow state where mind and body act as one. Movements become instinct, time seems to slow, and only focus remains.
My grandson, who is only six years old, had just gone through his first trance. Despite being so young, truly a terrifying talent, way more terrifying than his grandfather when he was at his age.
This new generation is full of surprises. She thought.
She lifted her chin from his head.
"You know that draw you just did? It's a technique I was going to teach you," she said.
Vladislav's eyes widened.
"What?!" he blurted out.
A technique? I thought she was just teaching me how to draw and not a technique.
"Yes, it is a katana technique. It is called Katana Series, first technique: Quick Draw"
"Quick Draw..." He muttered.
"So all those draws that I did every single day were to help me be able to perform this technique? Why didn't you tell me?"
Mary nodded. "Yes, that was the purpose from the start. I just didn't tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. Surprises are better when you're not told anything about , isn't it?"
"Yes, you are right, Grandma. Hehe, another technique, thank you so much."
He hugged Mary again.
I gained another technique and now I just need to polish it to perfection, He thought.
She patted his head and smiled. "You're very welcome, dear."
******
Guys please appreciate your grandmothers, they deserve the world:)