Fanshi Foo had never been much of a magic user. His knowledge on the subject was limited at best — picked up out of necessity over the years rather than through any serious study. Even so, he did his best to pass on what little he knew to young Wang.
He demonstrated the fundamentals: how to feel the energy dwelling inside the body, how to draw it toward the hands, how to release it through the fingertips. Simple in theory. Maddeningly difficult in practice.
Fanshi Foo - You don't need to master advanced magic right now. If you can channel enough energy through your fingers, you'll be able to create a flame blade on the sword Zulmat left behind.
As he spoke, he moved his fingers slowly, coaxing small sparks to flicker between them. The flame he produced was nothing impressive — weak, trembling, more like a lit match than anything destructive. But for Wang, watching it dance between the old man's knuckles, it was more than enough of a starting point.
After a while of attempting to replicate the movements and understand the flow of energy, they agreed to pause the session. Wang's mind was exhausted, and Fanshi looked like he could use the rest just as much.
They moved to the kitchen of the old Kaifang headquarters, where the smell of coffee Fanshi had brewed earlier still lingered in the air.
Wang took a sip and immediately grimaced.
Wang - Master... this coffee is pretty bitter. Did you add any sugar?
Fanshi raised an eyebrow and thought carefully, as if trying to reconstruct the memory of something he had done only minutes ago.
Fanshi Foo - I think I added a little... but I may have gone too heavy on the grounds. I'll cut it back next time.
He gave a relaxed laugh.
Fanshi Foo - Strong coffee keeps the mind sharp.
Wang took another cautious sip, still unconvinced. Then he set the cup down on the table and looked across at his master.
Wang - Let me ask you something. After I finish training with you... I'll finally be able to face Zulmat, right? How long do you think it'll actually take before I have a real chance against him?
The old man was quiet for a long moment.
Fanshi Foo - Years, my boy. Perhaps decades.
The words landed quietly, but they landed hard.
Fanshi Foo - I have no idea how strong Zulmat truly is at this point. What I do know is that he is no longer human — not entirely. Something corrupted him, deeply. In that encounter, I could sense that he had lost part of himself. His own identity. Whether those memories are gone or simply buried somewhere inside him, waiting... I can't say.
He crossed his arms.
Fanshi Foo - The only weaknesses I could identify were magic and aura-infused strikes. But whether those alone would be enough to defeat him... I honestly don't know.
Wang - So even if I train hard for years... it still might not be enough?
Fanshi Foo - If you train without stopping, you'll at least be able to stand equal against the Shogunate's soldiers.
He leaned an elbow on the table.
Fanshi Foo - Or... can't you wait that long?
Wang stared into his coffee for a few seconds before answering.
Wang - It sounds like a long time... but I don't really have anything to lose.
He propped his chin on his hand.
Wang - I just want to finish school first. I'm in my last year. After that, I'll need to find work somewhere — but that probably means leaving my town. It's basically in ruins. There's nothing there anymore.
He gave a small, dry smile.
Wang - Honestly, it's already a miracle the school is still running. And I doubt it'll stay that way much longer. I heard on the news — the Shogunate is already close to my street. It's only a matter of time before they take the house too.
A silence settled over the kitchen. Then Wang spoke again, quieter this time.
Wang - So I suppose I'll be staying here for a while. Training. Getting strong enough to protect whatever I have left.
Fanshi leaned back in his chair, studying the boy across from him.
Fanshi Foo - You know... I think it'd be easier for the Republic to defeat the Shogunate than for you to defeat Zulmat in under five years.
Wang looked up.
Fanshi Foo - So why not train and enlist with the Republic? You'd earn money, help push back the Shogunate, and still be protecting your home.
Wang nearly choked on his coffee.
Wang - What? No. I'm not joining the Republic's army.
Fanshi Foo - Why not?
Wang - Because they hate people like me. I earn below minimum wage, so they can't even tax me. To them, I'm dead weight — someone who contributes nothing. I don't want anything to do with those people.
He crossed his arms.
Wang - Even if they're the best option we have right now.
Fanshi exhaled through his nose.
Fanshi Foo - Complicated... For now, let's focus on what we have. Training you. If you ever decide you truly want to bring down the Shogunate, you'll eventually need to side with either the Republic or the Steel Warriors.
He made a face.
Fanshi Foo - Though those Steel Warriors are a handful in their own way. They'll take anyone in — but they look down on anyone who can't use magic or aura. Arrogant bunch.
The conversation drifted on, carried by the rhythm of coffee and the crunch of biscuits Fanshi had stashed in the kitchen cupboard. Not much of a meal, but enough to quiet the stomach for a few hours.
Later that night, the old man was already asleep — his snoring rolling steadily through the walls of the corridor.
Wang lay on his back in his new room, staring at the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn't come.
After a while, he gave up and sat up.
Wang - Maybe I can squeeze in a bit more practice...
He stood in the middle of the room and tried again — the same exercise from earlier. Summoning a flame in the palm of his hand.
For half an hour, nothing happened.
He breathed. He focused. He imagined the warmth gathering, the energy pooling in his hand.
Nothing.
He sat down on the bed with a frustrated sigh.
Then a memory surfaced — an old comic book he used to read. One of the characters could launch fireballs from his hands. Wang had spent hours as a kid staring at those panels, tracing the arcs of flame with his finger.
He stood up again.
Extended his left hand, palm facing the ceiling. Closed his eyes.
And this time, he didn't just try to channel energy. He tried to see it. The character from the comic, standing there, hand open, fire blooming from his palm like something natural, something inevitable.
His face twisted with effort. He looked, frankly, like someone fighting off a stomach cramp — grimacing, straining, barely holding his concentration together.
Wang - Come on... just a little...
And then something shifted.
A faint energy stirred in his palm. At first it was white — barely a glow. Then it deepened, warming through orange, until a small red flame flickered to life in the cup of his hand.
Wang's eyes shot open.
He stared at it.
Wang - Holy—
He almost sat down hard on the bed.
Wang - I had to visualize that thing for so long I can barely feel my legs... but I actually did it. I actually made the stupid flame.
He watched it dance in his palm, small and real.
Wang - Master said magic requires creativity and focus... but that was something else entirely.
He laughed quietly to himself.
Wang - I really don't have a gift for this.
His gaze drifted to the broken sword leaning against the wall.
The flame in his hand reflected off the fractured blade.
Wang - But if I can put this fire onto that blade... that's all I need. Especially since Zulmat doesn't even flinch when you hit him with your bare fists.
He closed his hand, extinguishing the flame.
The decision came quickly, cleanly, the way decisions sometimes do when everything else falls away.
Wang - I'm not going to chase advanced magic. I'll master one thing: putting fire on the blade. The rest I'll handle with my fists.
He looked at his hand one more time.
Wang - The plan is simple. Strengthen my aura, strengthen my body, and master the flame blade. Because right now, all I can manage is a flame in the palm and small sparks at the fingertips.
He tried again. A small flame appeared at the tip of one finger.
Wang - Hm. Concentrating fire on individual fingers is harder than the palm. Maybe in time I can do all five at once.
He practiced a while longer, then snapped his fingers — and the flame winked out.
He lay back down. The exhaustion, at last, had caught up with him.
The next morning, Wang was up early.
Walking through the corridor, he could hear Fanshi's snoring echoing through the walls with remarkable dedication.
He went to the kitchen without disturbing him. Using a small flame at the tip of one finger, he lit the stove and set the water to boil. While he waited, he slipped into an empty room next door and tried activating his aura.
He closed his eyes. Breathed.
The aura rose almost immediately — a blue shimmer wrapping around his body like a second skin.
Wang opened his eyes and smiled.
Wang - Good. Now I just need to hold it longer.
He kept it active, feeling it hum around him, testing its edges.
Wang - If I can stabilize this for as long as I want... or at least until I run dry... I think I'll finally be ready to fight for real.
The kettle's whistle pulled him back to the kitchen. He finished brewing the coffee, arranged a few biscuits on a plate, and carried a steaming cup down the hall to Fanshi's room. He set it gently on the bedside table.
Wang - Good morning, Master.
The old man stirred, reached for the cup on instinct, and the two of them eventually found their way back to the kitchen table — where they ate, talked about old stories, and played a few rounds of cards before the training day began.
That day's session was noticeably better.
Wang's aura came faster and steadier than before. He could even hold it while walking — something that had seemed impossible just the day prior. The stability still wavered, but the progress was undeniable.
Fanshi watched him with quiet appreciation.
Fanshi Foo - You're moving faster than I expected. After your first day... I honestly thought this would take considerably longer. Your body seems to adapt quickly to new things.
Wang - I hope so. I really don't want to spend ten years drilling the same technique.
He gave a shrug.
Wang - If it were possible, I'd rather do it in a month. But I'd settle for a year. Because if I train too little and die anyway... then none of this meant anything.
Fanshi Foo - Which is exactly why you need at least six months before you face anyone truly dangerous.
He smiled — and there was something almost mischievous in it.
Fanshi Foo - And during those six months, you'll be sparring with me.
Wang - Sparring...?
Fanshi Foo - I'm going to sharpen your reflexes by attacking you without mercy!
He laughed with genuine enthusiasm.
Wang - I just hope you'll go easy on me at the start...
Fanshi Foo - I'll try. But I make no promises about what my body decides to do.
The rest of the day was spent entirely in training. Wang drilled his aura for hours — holding it while walking, while breathing evenly, even while holding a conversation. For magic, his goal remained unchanged and narrow: a flame in the hand first, then individual flames at each fingertip. Only once he had mastered that would he attempt anything larger.
Meanwhile, in another part of Palaniya, the political situation continued its slow, grinding movement.
President Elias Kovar stood before a camera and delivered a public address. His words were chosen carefully — calm, measured, aimed at steadying the population's nerves rather than conveying any genuine optimism. The Shogunate had taken another city. More people had been enslaved. The news was bad, and everyone knew it. But people needed something to hold onto.
After the broadcast ended, a man in a police uniform approached.
Stone - Fine speech, sir. I'm not sure it'll change how the public sees the government... but it may give people something to believe in for a while. Right now, that's not nothing.
The president stood with both hands flat on his desk, staring at the large map covering almost the entire wall behind him. Red markings spread across it like a rash — lost cities, conflict zones, compromised supply lines.
He let out a long, heavy breath.
President Kovar - That's precisely why I gave it. Though whether it changes anything... I have no idea. We're running out of options, Dan. Our people have suffered under the Shogunate for over a hundred years. And even now, while the Shogunate is fighting a war on two fronts against the Steel Warriors — they're still stronger than us.
He pressed a finger against two regions on the map.
President Kovar - Two simultaneous wars, and they're still winning. It's past time for our military to begin studying magic and aura. I didn't want to go down this road... but I don't see another way forward.
He turned to look at the man in the doorway.
President Kovar - And the location I asked you to look into — did you find it?
Stone - I did, sir. It's here in the capital.
He produced a small notebook from his pocket.
Stone - Should we move on it immediately, or gather more information first?
The president walked slowly to the window, looking out at the skyline of the capital.
President Kovar - Wait a little longer. I want to see whether they act first. I was told that old man has been spotted in the city recently — and he had a young man with him. He's likely recruiting again.
He turned back from the window.
President Kovar - If we give it more time, we may be able to understand his real intentions. I don't want to make a rash move. There's a chance he could be an ally.
Stone - Understood, sir. There isn't much we can do unilaterally right now anyway. Creating another enemy would only make things worse — and we already have more than enough.
The president returned to the map. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped.
President Kovar - The situation keeps getting worse. I've been in office for five years and I haven't been able to change a thing. I thought I could. I thought I could bring something — some kind of hope — to this country.
He pressed a fist against the table.
President Kovar - I've reduced corruption some. Stabilized the economy a little. But we're still under constant attack. You can't maintain a healthy economy in a permanent state of war. And all of it — all of it — traces back to that man. Purple Tiny.
Stone - That's true. But I think the problem runs deeper than one man. Even without him, some kind of crisis would have come eventually. He just... accelerated it.
President Kovar - I know. And yet I still can't accept it. That a man like that could become president. Could be reelected. The only explanation I can come to is that he simply bought the votes — because no other explanation makes sense.
Stone - We'll never know for certain. Too much time has passed. No one from that era is still alive, the records are unreliable, and he didn't even finish his second term before the corruption swallowed everything. But yes — buying the election seems like the obvious conclusion. You don't need to dig very deep to get there.
The president was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, it was almost to himself.
President Kovar - I just hope that I — President Elias Kovar — can still bring peace and prosperity to this nation. I want to fix this. Genuinely. But if we attack the Shogunate directly, they'll use the enslaved people as hostages. And even setting that aside... we'd be outmatched in sheer numbers and combat power. Their aura deflects conventional firearms. A rifle shot at point-blank range won't penetrate a samurai's aura.
He turned to Stone.
President Kovar - We need to think carefully. Find some kind of relic or artifact that could shift the balance.
Stone - We're already looking. Our exploration units are searching. And there's that old man we're watching. If all else fails... there's still the possibility of approaching Acnalog.
The president's expression hardened immediately.
President Kovar - No. We will not lower ourselves to asking Acnalog for help. That group is worse than the Shogunate. They may even be working with the Shogunate directly — it's far too suspicious how they always seem to know which cities have the lowest troop counts right before an attack. Their own motto says it plainly: "Highest bidder takes our services."
Stone - For now, all we can do is reinforce the borders. I'll keep our operatives on the investigation. If our exploration teams find anything — a relic, an artifact, anything useful — I'll report to you immediately.
President Kovar - Good. I'm counting on you, Dan.
He pointed at the plain police uniform with a tired smirk.
President Kovar - That disguise is very convincing, by the way. Keep it up and even I'll start to believe it.
A small laugh broke the tension briefly. Then it passed.
President Kovar - You're dismissed. I need to get back to the ministerial meeting and review the current situation.
Stone - Understood. Until next time, President Kovar. Stay safe.
The door closed between them. Each man returned to his own front line — fighting the same silent war against an enemy that had existed for over a hundred years.
The weight of that war was visible everywhere. In the ruined cities. In the reinforced walls. In the emptiness of streets that should have been full. And most of all, in the eyes of the people — hollowed by exhaustion, scraped clean of hope, no longer certain that anything could ever truly change.
About a month passed.
Strangely, nothing major happened. The Shogunate had not attacked again. Whether their forces were engaged in renewed fighting with the Steel Warriors, or simply reorganizing for something larger, no one could say for certain. Intelligence from their territory was nearly impossible to obtain. Palaniya shared only a narrow border with the Steel Warriors — separated by an enormous militarized wall, watchtowers, armed sentries, and fields riddled with landmines.
The world held its breath.
And Wang trained.
One morning, Wang stood alone in the training hall, the broken sword in hand. A small flame danced steadily in his palm, and his eyes were bright with quiet satisfaction.
Wang - Finally. I can hold a proper flame now.
He raised the sword and looked at the fractured blade.
Wang - Today I'm actually going to do it. Today I create the blade and start training with this thing for real.
He exhaled slowly.
Wang - I'm already sick of just dodging the master's strikes with nothing in my hand. Even if I can block with aura, I want to be able to parry with the sword too.
The door to the hall opened.
Fanshi Foo walked in holding a steaming cup of coffee — a habit so embedded in both of them now that neither questioned it anymore. Wang had realized at some point that he genuinely looked forward to the morning cup, and that Fanshi was almost certainly the one responsible for that.
Fanshi Foo - Good morning, boy. Early as always.
He took a slow sip and tilted his head toward the sword.
Fanshi Foo - So... do you think today's the day you finally create that blade? I've been waiting to duel with real swords for a month now.
Wang smiled and lifted the broken sword.
Wang - Good morning, Master. That's exactly what we're about to find out.
He steadied his grip and straightened his posture.
Wang - The first time I tried, I didn't even come close. But that was a month ago. I think it's time to see how far I've actually come.
Fanshi's grin widened.
Fanshi Foo - Now that's the spirit.
He raised his cup toward Wang as if offering a toast.
Fanshi Foo - Show me what you've got. I've been swinging a wooden sword at you for a month straight — I'm more than ready for something real!
His laughter filled the training hall.
Wang rolled his eyes — then closed them, and began to focus.