The next morning, before the practice session began, Vayu finally spoke up.
"Sir" he said in a low voice "should I challenge Aspen? does it look like I'm running away from this fight by delaying it?".
The instructor studied him for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then he gave a faint nod.
"I need time to think, before I could say anything" he replied. "For now lets focus on the battle".
Without another word, the sparring began.
Vayu stepped forward, he had refined his technique over the last one month, shaping it into something uniquely his own. In his right hand, he held the dagger in a normal grip, for a longer range and vertical cuts. But in his left, the blade was reversed into an icepick grip, for a fast attack and horizontal cuts.
The combination was unpredictable and unsettling. By using different range and different types of slashes at ones, he had infinite potential and numerous combination's. The difference in speed and motion made his attacks unpredictable, while fast one moment, longer and precise another moment and he could change the grip any moment he wanted.
Vayu rushed in, his daggers flashing. The left blade, held in an icepick grip, carved through the air in a short, powerful slash. It was a tactic he had been honing from past 10 days, using the left dagger for a quick slash, though its reach was shorter. In contrast, the right dagger, held in a normal grip, offered longer reach but slower strikes.
He had discovered a clever rhythm in this imbalance. When he swung with the left, most opponents instinctively backstepped, thinking they had escaped danger. That was when his right dagger came sweeping in, catching them in the false safety of their distance. Believing they were out of range, they never expected the blade to reach them, until it was too late.
But the instructor was no ordinary opponent. As Vayu's right hand strike forward, aiming for the opening, the instructor's wrist flicked at the last moment. With precise timing, his wooden blade intercepted Vayu's strike, deflecting it just inches before it could touch him.
The sharp crack of wood against wood echoed in the courtyard.
Vayu's eyes widened. He thought he attack was perfect and will easily work on the instructor, but the instructor deflected it with ease.
The instructor's calm gaze locked on him. "Good trick" he said, pushing Vayu back with a counterstrike. "But these tricks will work only on someone inexperienced, the more experienced the opponent is the more he can see through your tricks, You'll be a needing a lot more then cheap tricks".
The fight dragged on, but something about it felt different. The instructor had hardly attacked in the past. His blade moved only to parry his attacks, deflect or slip past Vayu's strikes with effortless grace. Each time Vayu lunged in with a combination, his instructor would rarely attack, just enough to unbalance him and before Vayu could recover, the wooden dagger will be pointed against his throat. Again and again, he had got the same result.
Fueled by anger Vayu struck furiously, pressing with all his strength, but the instructor stayed rooted like an unshakable wall. Two months ago, the instructor understood by watching Vayu's fighting style that, he excelled at defense, relying on his ability to guard, dodge and endure. But his attacks were too straight forward and predictable. The instructor had noticed that, and since then had rarely attacked him, always staying on defensive. By forcing Vayu to attack again and again, he was shaping his weakness into his strength.
Vayu's offense had grown sharper but still to this date he had not been able to land a good attack on his instructor because whenever he attacked head-on, he always found himself off balance or getting attacked before his attack could land. He was irritated but with no other option left, he tightened his grip and advanced again.
He slashed with his left dagger. The instructor backstepped, calm as ever. Vayu pressed forward, his right blade sweeping in another slash. Again, the instructor slid out of reach, retreating with just enough space to avoid his attacks.
Just a bit faster… just a bit longer, Vayu thought, his focus sharpening. He quickened his pace, his steps lighter, his reach extended by leaning forward with each strike. His blades carved wider arcs, forcing the instructor to keep stepping backwards.
But this was the trap, set by the instructor.
The moment Vayu leaned in too far, the instructor's foot shot up, aiming at his shin to break his balance.
But this time, Vayu's eyes caught the motion. Instead of panicking, he bent his knee further, dropping his stance and pouring all his weight into it. The kick missed the shin and struck his knee instead.
The impact reverberated but it wasn't Vayu who staggered, it was the instructor, caught off guard as he was the one who got pushed back a step.
For the first time, an opening had appeared.
Vayu's eyes flared with determination as he rushed in. His blades gleamed as he prepared to strike, the thrill of finally breaking through the wall, driving him forward.
But the instructor was not so easily cornered. Instead of stumbling back, he shifted his weight, twisting into a sudden backflip. His body arced gracefully through the air, and he landed lightly on his feet, just as Vayu charged in.
Their eyes locked. The instructor too rushed in this time. He surged forward to meet Vayu's attack head on.
Dagger clashed against dagger, the courtyard ringing with the sharp rhythm of battle. The instructor pushed Vayu back with raw force, then surged forward, his daggers angled like crab pincers ready to pierce Vayu's chest from both sides.
Vayu twisted his body at the last instant, using Spiral Gale technique. His blades whirled in tight arcs, deflecting both strikes away. But there was no time to breathe. The instructor swept his leg low, catching Vayu off guard. He hit the ground hard and the instructor rushed to put his daggers on Vayu's throat, but before the dagger could reach his throat, he rolled sideways and sprang back to his feet.
The instructor advanced slowly, his arms stretched wide, daggers tight in his grip. Vayu lifted both blades in icepick grip, holding them before his face, his stance firm.
The clash was brutal. The instructor moved, slashing vertically came once, twice. Then the instructor twisted, sweeping a horizontal strike across Vayu's chest. Wood ripped through the fabric and two thin lines appeared on his tunic. Had they been real blades, his flesh would have been cut.
Vayu staggered back, but the instructor pressed in, daggers raining down. Vayu ducked low, barely avoiding the strike. But the instructor's fist came from below, snapping into Vayu's chin. His head swam, vision blurring. Before he could recover, another punch smashed into his nose. Blood trickled down. His instructor showed no mercy.
A kick shot in from the left. This time, Vayu caught the leg and held it firm. The instructor flipped backward to free himself, Vayu instead of resisting, he gave an extra shove, adding momentum to the instructor's flip. The landing went wrong, the instructor's legs wobbled as his feet hit the ground.
Now!
Vayu charged, hammering a punch across the instructor's face, then another strike beneath the chin. He followed with a sharp step-back kick to the chest. For the first time , the instructor fell backward.
But he was no easy target. Rolling to his feet with fluid grace, he met Vayu's attack with his own. Vayu's daggers sliced downward in twin arcs but the instructor caught both wrists in his grip, yanking him forward before driving a kick deep into his abdomen.
Air blasted from Vayu's lungs. The instructor didn't let go. Another knee rammed into his stomach. Pain flared, Vayu tried to free himself but the hold on his wrist was solid, so he slammed his own knee into the instructor's abdomen. But the instructor didn't even flinch.
Another crushing knee from the instructor folded Vayu further. His strength faltered. Then the instructor shifted—twisting his body sharply while still gripping Vayu's wrists, spinning Vayu along with himself. Their backs collided, pressed together for a brief instant.
With a fluid motion, the instructor bent low, using his shoulders as a lever. Vayu's feet left the ground, his body heaved up. In a seamless throw, the instructor launched him forward, using his full strength.
Vayu crashed face-first into the dirt. Before he could even lift his head, the edge of a wooden dagger pressed against his neck.
He had lost again.
The courtyard was filled with their ragged breathing.
Then, at last, the instructor said in a calm voice .
"I think you're ready for the fight".