Anand inspected both knives, testing the balance before sliding them back into place. His lips curled in faint approval.
"Not bad… exquisite work," he murmured, then looked up at Aryan with a playful grin.
"So, you staying here too?"
"No," Aryan replied simply. "I'll return in the afternoon to bring your lunch. Do you need anything else?"
Anand leaned back in his chair, smirking.
"Yeah. Cigarettes and booze. A man can't live without those." His tone was light, teasing, but Aryan only shook his head faintly before heading for the door.
Outside, Aryan disappeared into the forest path they had come from, his figure soon lost among the trees.
Anand lingered by the pond, gazing at the rippling water. His reflection stared back at him — older, sharper, carrying both the weight of centuries and the spark of something untamed.
"So he really sent someone who knows nothing about me," Anand thought, a small smile tugging at his lips. "That works. At least I can talk freely without all the bowing and scraping."
He crouched by the water's edge, eyes narrowing at his reflection.
"Now then… let's see if I can control this power. Let's start with a little body exercise."
__________
When Aryan returned, the house was quiet. He carried a large container in one hand, but his eyes were drawn immediately to the pond.
Anand sat at its edge, bare from the waist up, his body still and composed. Around him, a dense green aura of mana pulsed slowly, rising and falling like waves. The energy was heavy, alive, and yet strangely calm — like the breath of the forest itself.
Aryan's step faltered for the briefest moment, his eyes narrowing before he composed himself. He said nothing, slipping inside the cabin to place the container on the table.
Half an hour later, the aura faded. Anand stretched, rolling his shoulders with a low exhale, then noticed Aryan. With an easy grin, he walked over.
Inside, Aryan had already unpacked the container. Dishes of food were neatly set out, and beside them sat a crate of cigarettes and two bottles of wine.
Anand dropped into the chair without hesitation and began to eat. Aryan stood nearby, hands folded behind his back. His eyes lingered on Anand a moment longer than necessary, lips tightening ever so slightly, before he finally turned away to give him space.
After finishing his meal, Anand drank a glass of water and stepped outside. He leaned against the wooden wall, pulling a cigarette from the pack. Sliding it between his lips, he patted his pockets out of habit, searching for a lighter that wasn't there.
A faint smile tugged at his mouth — a memory of old times.
Aryan stepped forward silently, flicking a lighter to life. Anand leaned in, the tip catching with a soft glow. He drew in a slow, deep breath, the smoke curling lazily into the mountain air.
Exhaling, Anand gave Aryan a sidelong look, amusement in his eyes.
"Don't like the smell, do you?"
Aryan's brow creased, though his tone remained even.
"I don't smoke."
Anand chuckled, taking another drag.
"Good. Someone has to stay pure in this rotten world."
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the cigarette as the breeze carried the smoke away.
After finishing his cigarette and taking a short rest, Anand stepped into the open space in front of the cabin. He stood still for a moment, then slowly began to move. His body flowed through strikes, turns, and kicks — deliberate yet unrestrained.
Aryan watched silently at first, arms folded. There was something familiar about the movements, yet they felt… off. When Anand shifted into a sharp leg motion, Aryan's eyes narrowed in recognition.
Taekwondo… but not exactly.
"Aren't you doing it a little different?" Aryan finally asked.
Anand stopped mid-step and glanced at him, a faintly arrogant smile tugging at his lips.
"What's different about the moves I performed?"
"I can't say they're wrong…" Aryan stepped forward, his tone steady. "But they're a little… crude."
He shifted into stance and performed a clean sequence — sharp kicks, fluid pivots, precise balance. "This is how it should look. I specialize in Taekwondo. And the other movements you used… they don't match any proper forms either."
Anand chuckled, low and amused.
"So that's what you meant."
Aryan blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"You're right. Those movements are different because I never learned them properly," Anand said, as if confessing something trivial. "I just saw people perform them — Taekwondo, Karate, Judo, even sword forms — and then I integrated them into my own style. So they're not crude. They're simply made for me."
Aryan froze, dumbfounded. His mind raced. He copied dozens of martial arts… just by watching?