The morning air inside Bang's dojo was crisp, filled with the faint scent of sandalwood. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, painting golden rectangles across the polished floor. Students lined up in rows, but the atmosphere was quieter than usual. Every eye seemed to flick toward me, lingering just a moment longer before darting away.
The spar with Garou had spread through the dojo like wildfire. Whispers carried tales that I had stood against him and survived. To most, that alone was unbelievable. To Garou, it was unacceptable.
At the far end of the hall, Garou stretched lazily, his gaze sharp as ever. Every time our eyes met, he smirked, a silent promise that another clash was inevitable.
But today was not about sparring. Today, Bang himself stood before us, hands folded neatly behind his back. His silver hair gleamed under the light, his presence commanding silence with ease.
"Strength," Bang began, his voice calm but resonant, "is not measured in fists alone. Any fool can flail his arms. Power lies not in muscles, but in mastery of the self. Breath, rhythm, intent these are the roots of every strike."
His eyes scanned us, but lingered briefly on me.
"Sit."
We obeyed. The room fell into silence as the students crossed their legs, settling onto the floor. I followed, wincing as bruised muscles protested.
Bang lowered himself gracefully, his posture straight, his expression serene.
"Close your eyes," he instructed. "Feel your breath. Do not control it observe it. The flow of air is the flow of life."
I inhaled. The breath burned in my chest, scraping against the pain in my ribs. My mind flickered to the forest, to claws rending flesh, to the chaos of battle. But slowly, beneath that storm, I felt something steadier.
The rise. The fall. The rhythm beneath chaos.
"Martial arts," Bang continued, his tone like water over stone, "is not the art of defeating others. It is the art of defeating chaos within yourself. The fist that strikes without rhythm is weak. The strike that follows breath cannot be broken."
His words dug into me deeper than any punch.
For a moment, I understood. The flow I had barely touched in the forest, in the spar against Garou it was not chance. It was here, in every breath, waiting to be grasped.
Hours passed. Meditation, then controlled movements slow strikes in rhythm with inhalation, exhalation. The dojo's atmosphere shifted. Students who once strained with force now moved more fluidly, their attacks sharper despite less effort.
Garou, however, grew restless.
"Breathing lessons?" he muttered when Bang's back was turned. "If I wanted to nap, I'd stay home."
Yet even he obeyed, his movements deceptively smooth. He hid it well, but I could see it the same rhythm pulsing through his strikes. He was learning faster than anyone else.
And that terrified me.
Because if Garou already stood so far above me, and now was absorbing this too… how could I keep up?
That night, I stayed in the courtyard long after the others left. My body screamed for rest, but I forced myself through the exercises Bang had taught. Strikes in rhythm, breath guiding motion. Again. Again.
The air felt heavy, my lungs burning, but slowly… something clicked. Each movement flowed more naturally, less forced. My fists cut through the air with a subtle sharpness I had never known.
I was far from mastery. But for the first time, I felt closer to the path.
The next day, the dojo was stirred by news. A messenger arrived an official from the Hero Association, though the organization was still in its early years, scattered and small.
"A monster has been sighted near the outskirts of Z-City," the man explained, bowing to Bang. "Local civilians are panicking. We request assistance."
Bang's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "How severe?"
"Not dragon-level, Master," the man said quickly. "But… stronger than the common rabble. A threat, nonetheless."
Bang's gaze turned to his students. Murmurs broke out immediately, half excitement, half dread.
"Good," Bang said finally. "It is time you all faced something beyond wood and straw. A real opponent."
He began choosing names. To my surprise and fear mine was among them.
"You five will accompany me," Bang announced. "This is not a competition. It is a test. Fight not with recklessness, but with the rhythm we practiced. Work together, or fall apart."
Garou smirked, already rolling his shoulders. His eyes cut toward me, gleaming with challenge.
"Try not to die out there," he said under his breath as we prepared.
We traveled to the outskirts of Z-City. The air grew tense as we neared, the scent of decay riding the wind. Civilians had evacuated, the streets eerily silent.
Then we saw it.
A hulking creature, skin armored with jagged scales, stood amidst the rubble of a collapsed building. Its claws dripped with fresh blood, its reptilian eyes burning with primal hunger.
A tiger-level threat, maybe higher.
The sight rooted the other students in place. My heart hammered, memories of the forest beast flashing back.
Bang's voice cut through our fear. "Remember. Breath. Rhythm. Flow. Do not let chaos consume you."
Then he stepped back.
"This is your battle."
The monster roared, charging forward. Dust exploded under its weight.
Garou moved first, a blur of speed, striking its leg with a brutal kick. The beast staggered but did not fall. Its tail whipped around, forcing him to leap back.
"Don't just stand there!" Garou barked. "Move!"
The other students scrambled, launching coordinated strikes. Their blows hit, but the beast's scales deflected most, leaving shallow marks.
I forced my legs to move, lungs burning as I sank into rhythm. Inhale. Exhale. Flow.
When the beast's claw descended, I sidestepped, guiding its momentum past me. My fist struck its elbow, the joint snapping slightly. It roared in fury.
For a brief moment, I felt it again the current, the flow carrying me through chaos.
Garou noticed. His grin widened. "Not bad."
But the monster wasn't done. It spun, its tail slamming into one of the students, sending him crashing into rubble with a scream. Blood sprayed.
Panic surged through the group.
"No! Don't break formation!" Bang's voice rang out, but fear drowned it.
Chaos erupted.
I clenched my fists. If we faltered now, someone would die.
"Breathe," I whispered to myself. "Flow."
I dashed forward, planting myself in the beast's path. Its claw descended like a guillotine. I guided it aside, my palm sliding along its arm, twisting. Its weight carried it forward, exposing its chest.
"NOW!" I shouted.
Garou was already there, his fist slamming into the exposed ribs. Cracks echoed. The other students followed, strikes hammering the weak point.
The monster shrieked, thrashing wildly. Debris flew, claws tore the ground. But we didn't let up.
Every strike followed breath, rhythm. The flow connected us, however briefly, into something greater than ourselves.
Finally, with one last coordinated blow, the beast collapsed, shuddering before falling still.
Silence fell.
We stood panting, bodies bruised, bloodied, but alive. The fallen student groaned, still breathing. Relief washed through the group.
Garou wiped sweat from his brow, smirking. "Not bad for a bunch of amateurs." His eyes met mine. "Especially you. Didn't think you'd keep up."
I exhaled, my fists trembling. The flow still pulsed faintly within me, a reminder of what was possible.
Bang approached, his expression calm but proud. "You lived. That is enough for today."
His gaze lingered on me, then Garou. "But survival is not mastery. Remember that."
I bowed, my chest heaving, my mind already burning with the next step.
This was only the beginning.