The three brothers limped back into town, bruised and battered from their failed battle with the two unknown men. Their parents were safe—for now—but the shame of their weakness weighed heavier than the injuries.
The marketplace bustled with life. Merchants shouted prices, children ran between stalls, and the scent of roasted grain filled the air. Yet the brothers walked silently, each lost in thought.
Doraibu (breaking the silence): "We can't go on like this. We weren't strong enough… and if they come back—"
Supira (cutting in coldly): "—we'll die. That much is obvious. We need someone who can make us more than what we are now."
Kaosu (clenching his fists): "I don't care who it is. I'll learn from the devil himself if it means I can crush those bastards."
At the mention of strength, a passing villager gave them a startled look. The man hesitated, then leaned closer.
Villager: "If it's strength you're after… there's only one name. Sogen Shihan."
The brothers exchanged glances.
Doraibu: "Sogen… Shihan? Who's that?"
The villager lowered his voice, as if afraid to even speak the name aloud.
Villager: "A master. A relic of an age long past. They say he defeated entire armies with nothing but his bare hands… and that he's the only man alive who has gazed into the heart of a Nexus and survived."
Supira (raising a brow): "And where is he now?"
The man pointed toward the distant forested hills.
Villager: "On the outskirts. In the old dojo. But be warned—he doesn't take pupils anymore. Many have begged him, and all were turned away. Some never returned at all."
Kaosu grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Kaosu: "Sounds like my kind of teacher."
Doraibu bowed his head slightly in thanks, while Supira merely adjusted his collar.
As they left, more villagers whispered behind them.
Old woman at a stall: "Sogen Shihan? Those boys are insane."
Young hunter: "They'll never come back if they disturb him…"
Another villager: "Or worse—they will come back… changed."
The weight of those words lingered as the brothers made their way to the outskirts of town.
By the time they reached the dojo, the sun was already setting. The once-grand wooden gates were cracked and faded, the paint long peeled away. Vines crawled across the roof, yet despite the ruin, the air carried a sharp pressure—like stepping into a storm.
Doraibu gulped, rubbing the back of his neck.
Doraibu: "…So this is it. Doesn't look like much."
Supira's eyes narrowed, studying the faint spirals carved into the pillars.
Supira: "Don't be fooled by appearances. This place… it breathes discipline. Power lingers here."
Kaosu stepped forward boldly, raising his hand to push the gate.
Kaosu: "Good. Then let's stop wasting time and—"
Before his hand touched the wood, the doors creaked open on their own.
An old man stood there, his frame wiry but unshaken, eyes like sharpened steel. His very presence silenced the evening air.
Sogen Shihan: "So… the three sparks arrive, just as the prophecy warned."
The brothers froze, stunned.
Doraibu: "…You know about us?"
The old man's gaze cut through them, weighing their worth in a single glance.
Sogen Shihan: "I know enough. Weak, reckless, arrogant. Children who think rage and raw power can match gods."
Kaosu bristled, stepping forward.
Kaosu: "Say that again, old man, and I'll—"
In an instant, the air shifted. Sogen moved. None of them saw how. Kaosu found himself flat on the ground, his arm twisted behind his back, staring up at the dojo roof.
Sogen Shihan (without raising his voice): "First lesson: know the difference between power… and control."
He released Kaosu, who stumbled back, stunned and furious.
Supira (smirking faintly): "Impressive. Perhaps you aren't just an old legend after all."
Sogen Shihan: "Hmph. If you want to live, follow me. If not… leave now."
The brothers exchanged a look. Despite their pride, despite their fear, none of them moved to leave.
Their training had begun.