Chapter 20 – The Final Lesson
The morning sun broke through the clouds, its light spilling over the mountains where Ashura and Master Iroh stood. The air was heavy with silence, the kind that came before a storm. Ashura's fists were clenched, his sword strapped to his back, his seal faintly glowing beneath his skin.
Master Iroh stood across from him, calm as ever, his arms behind his back. His eyes were sharp, but there was something different in them today—almost pride.
Iroh: "This will be your final lesson, Ashura. No drills. No lectures. Today, you face me. If you falter, these mountains will bury you. If you endure… then you are ready for the path ahead."
Ashura took a deep breath, his pulse hammering in his chest. This is it. Everything I've trained for… everything he's taught me. I can't hold back. Not today.
The wind shifted. The valley held its breath.
And then—Ashura moved.
Like a bullet, his figure blurred forward, the ground exploding beneath his first step. His sword sang as it left its sheath, slashing toward Iroh with a flash of steel.
Iroh didn't flinch. He tilted his head, letting the blade miss by an inch, then countered with a palm strike that sent shockwaves through the earth. Ashura barely crossed his arms in time, the impact blasting him back into a mountainside. Rock shattered around him.
Ashura gritted his teeth and burst out of the rubble, faster this time, faster than before. His strikes became relentless—sword arcs, fists, kicks, and bursts of artifact energy. Every movement screamed desperation and resolve.
But Iroh flowed like water. Effortless, precise, unshaken. Every strike Ashura threw was deflected, every surge of energy redirected.
Iroh: "Your strength has grown… but strength without balance is nothing but chaos."
Ashura roared, pushing harder. The seal on his arm flared, blue light crawling across his skin like fire. His speed spiked, his blade humming with power. The valley itself trembled as the two clashed, shockwaves tearing through trees, splitting the ground, reshaping the cliffs.
With each exchange, Ashura felt the lessons echoing in his head—
"Be like water."
"Harmony within yourself."
"Balance between fear and resolve."
He stopped forcing the power. He let it flow. His movements shifted—less frantic, more fluid. His strikes were no longer wild but controlled, guided by instinct and clarity.
Iroh's eyes narrowed. For the first time, he brought his hand up in genuine defense, blocking a strike that cracked the stone beneath his feet.
Ashura's blade flashed again—one, two, three slashes—followed by a kick that sent shockwaves bursting outward. His speed now blurred past Iroh's sight, forcing the old master to actually step back.
The final strike came—Ashura channeled every ounce of his will, his sword glowing with artifact energy. He roared and brought it down, a slash that tore through the air like lightning.
Iroh caught it. With one hand. The ground beneath him cratered, a mountain ridge behind him collapsing under the pressure. Dust filled the sky.
When it cleared, Ashura was on one knee, gasping for air, his body trembling with exhaustion. His sword clattered beside him.
Iroh stood above him, unmoved but smiling faintly.
Iroh: "At last… you no longer fight like a boy chasing power. You fight like a man who has found his will. The mountains may crumble, Ashura… but your spirit stands unshaken."
Ashura, panting, forced a grin. "Heh… took me long enough, old man."
Iroh extended a hand, pulling him to his feet.
The training was over. But the real battles… were only just beginning.