April barely had time to react before master Ryu lunged.
The wooden sword came down like a guillotine.
April dodged—barely.
WHAM!
The bokken cracked against the floor where she had been standing.
No warning. No hesitation. No mercy.
Master Ryu wasn't just training her.
He was forcing her to fight.
April's instincts kicked in.
She pivoted, aiming a counter-kick at his ribs—
But he caught her foot.
Before she could recover, he twisted—sending her crashing to the ground.
Pain exploded across her back, but she rolled, dodging another downward strike.
He's fast.
Faster than she expected.
April forced herself up, exhaling sharply.
Master Ryu stood a few feet away, holding the bokken in one hand, completely at ease.
"Better," he said. "But still predictable."
April's eyebrows narrowed.
She wasn't going to win this with just technique.
She had to think beyond the style.
She had to move like a predator.
Her breathing steadied. Her muscles loosened. She let go of rigid movements, allowing herself to flow naturally.
Master Ryu moved first.
April anticipated it.
She shifted her weight at the last second, dodging the strike—
And closed the distance.
Her elbow shot forward.
CRACK!
For the first time, master Ryu stepped back.
April didn't stop.
She pressed forward—low, quick movements, relentless pressure. She wasn't just reacting anymore. She was hunting.
Then—
The bokken stopped inches from her throat.
Master Ryu grinned.
"Now we're getting somewhere."
April panted, sweat dripping from her chin, but she smirked back.
For the first time since she started training—
She felt like she was truly fighting.
April wiped sweat from her brow, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths.
Master Ryu studied her for a moment, then set the bokken down.
"That's enough for today," he said.
April's lips twitched. "I can keep going."
He raised an eyebrow. "And what would you gain from it?"
She hesitated.
"You're learning," master Ryu continued, "but training isn't just about endurance. It's about understanding. You fought better just now because you stopped thinking and started feeling."
April exhaled. He was right.
She wasn't just memorizing techniques—she was adapting.
Master Ryu crossed his arms. "When an animal fights, does it stop to think about every movement?"
April shook her head.
"No. It moves, it reacts. It trusts itself. That is what I'm teaching you." He stepped closer.
"Not to fight like a human—" his eyes sharpened, "—but like a predator."
April's fingers twitched.
Ultima's words echoed in her mind.
"When the time comes, you must embrace both."
She understood now.
She couldn't just rely on one method. Not Ultima's ferocity, nor master Ryu's discipline alone. She had to fuse them.
Become something new.
April looked at master Ryu meeting his gaze with her stitched eyelids. "Then let's keep going."
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Tomorrow."
April sighed but didn't argue.
She grabbed a towel and turned toward the exit—
Then paused.
The feeling was back.
That presence.
She tensed, her breath steadying.
Master Ryu noticed. "What is it?"
April turned her head slightly, scanning the shadows outside the dojo.
For a brief second—just barely—she saw it.
A human shaped figure, standing far off in the distance. Just watching.
Then, they were gone.
She clenched her fists.
"Nothing," she muttered.
Master Ryu's eyes lingered on her before he nodded.
"Go home. Get some rest."
April forced herself to walk away.
But in her mind—
She knew.
They were still watching.
Still waiting.
April grinned wide as a feeling of completion run through her whole body.
And soon—
She would be ready.
April stood alone in the training hall at HQ.
The dim lights above cast long shadows, and the air was thick with quiet focus.
Her muscles ached from yesterday's session with master Ryu, but she ignored it.
Tonight was different.
She slowly raised her left arm diagonally, forming a defensive forearm guard over her head and upper body.
Her right arm extended forward, fist clenched tightly, ready to strike or counter in an instant.
Shoulders slightly squared but angled forward—perfect balance between offense and defense.
A stance built for survival.
For battle and for hunting.
April inhaled, feeling the tension in her core.
She stepped forward.
A sharp, precise punch cut through the air.
She shifted, her weight shifting seamlessly, and followed up with a low kick, pivoting smoothly back into stance.
Again.
A punch. A block then a high kick. Then another counter.
Each movement was sharper and faster.
Her body moved instinctively, reacting without thought—only intent.
She felt it now.
The merging of everything she had learned.
Kyokushin's precision. Ultima's ferocity. Her own instincts.
She struck forward—fist snapping with explosive force—
And stopped just before hitting the training dummy.
The air around her pulsed.
Something's different.
April's eyebrows narrowed.
Her attacks were sharper than before. More refined.
Her mind replayed master Ryu's words.
"Your fists are precise, but they lack intent."
This time—
She felt the intent.
Her fingers twitched, but she didn't move.
A slow exhale.
Then—
She shifted.
Her right fist snapped out like a viper—
BAM!
The training dummy shook violently, nearly tipping over.
April stepped back, studying her hand.
Her strength wasn't what changed.
It was her execution.
Everything in that moment—her stance, her weight, her breath—had lined up perfectly.
She exhaled sharply, returning to stance.
This wasn't just about being stronger.
This was about becoming unstoppable.
And Ragnarök wouldn't see it coming.
—
April stood across from master Ryu in the dojo, her stance solid, her breath steady.
The morning light filtered through the paper windows, casting long streaks of gold across the polished wooden floor.
Master Ryu rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Let's see if you've truly learned anything."
April didn't answer.
She moved.
A burst of speed—she lunged forward, her right fist snapping out toward his ribs.
Master Ryu sidestepped, his hand swatting away her punch with effortless precision.
"Too direct," he muttered—
April spun into a low kick, pivoting off her heel—
Master Ryu jumped back, but her foot grazed his shin.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
She pressed forward.
Left arm guarding, right fist striking—quick, controlled bursts of power.
Master Ryu blocked, dodged, countered—yet April kept adapting. Her attacks were sharper, her stance shifting seamlessly.
She wasn't thinking anymore.
She was just fighting.
Then—
Master Ryu moved.
Faster than before.
His elbow shot forward, aiming for her sternum.
April reacted.
Her left forearm snapped up, deflecting the strike while her right hand twisted into a reverse punch—
BAM!
Her fist stopped an inch from master Ryu's chest.
Silence.
Then—
A small chuckle.
Master Ryu stepped back, lowering his arms.
"You've improved," he admitted. "But more than that—" he studied her stance, "—you've understood."
April exhaled, lowering her guard.
He wasn't talking about the technique anymore.
He was talking about her intent.
She nodded. "Thank you, Master Ryu."
Master Ryu smirked. "Don't thank me yet. You still have more to learn."
April grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."