Reach the Master Hermit. It sounds easy, but in reality...
I knew the ballpark and clearly didn't have enough money to hire anyone. What I would do if I weren't an airbender who can gain decent kilometers per hour while running - I don't know. With this it turned out that everything was easier, I can run at this pace for a very long time, about four hours at a time, if without strong overexertion, then a couple of hours of rest and again.
To my deep regret, I did not know in my heart where Piandao could live. All I knew was that he was not on the same island as the capital. Of course, the division into islands is a rather arbitrary topic, sometimes there is literally a kilometer of water space between them, but nevertheless it was a river between two oceans, therefore, relatively speaking, these were different islands.
I bought a map in the very first city I visited, as well as a compass. Therefore, I knew the approximate direction. The islands of the Fire Nation were three large ones, facing each other like a very flattened crescent, and one a little further away, closer to the continent on which my future, I hope, master settled.
That's where I ran. I got to the ocean in a few days and, to be honest, I was already pretty tired, so I didn't dare to risk running across kilometers of water, although I successfully passed the river along the water surface. I paid for a boat, on which I planned to get to the island I needed in a couple of quiet days.
The problem came from unexpected places. I was worried about pirates, even if they are afraid to operate in the waters close to the islands, but it is such a cliché if we were attacked that I thought it was bound to happen.
It would be better if they were pirates, honestly. It turned out that I had seasickness, and all these days I was rinsing pretty well like that. There were some gaps, but this constant swaying on the surface of the sea was simply killing me.
I was already thinking about even spitting and jumping off the ship and running, but I didn't dare. And the money was paid again. In general, with grief in half, I reached the island, and I was glad to see the land as never before. The captain, by the way, said that in my case it's a matter of habit, just suffer for a week and it will go away.
Damn, a week. Yeah, easier said than done. A week. I barely made it through two days, although I admit, yes, it was a little easier on the second, but just "a little"!
So I chilled out in the port city for another day, while simultaneously collecting rumors. Well, when I was collecting, I went to the bar and started asking the locals: do you know where the local swordsman lives? Many people twisted their fingers near their temples and sent them off to hell, but there was one person who still gave a hint. I just sat down and thought, and came up with the idea that in addition to being a swordsman, Piandao is also a very cool blacksmith, so I went to the weapons store. It was there that they suggested to me that I should turn my wheels to the city of Shu Jing.
Only, unfortunately, this town was not on my map; it was, after all, a map of the world, not the islands. If you think about it like that, then it was a very stupid purchase, why do I need a world map? Well, okay, having bought a map of just this island, I quickly found the desired city on it, checked the compass, and ran.
Shu Jing was a fairly large city based on a river. This was clearly not a village, the houses were typical, there had clearly been some kind of construction going on here. I didn't bother to find out where the teacher lived here, and decided to immediately follow a familiar path - to the weapons store.
Although, listening to the sounds of the stomach, I should first go eat. There wasn't much money left, and I spent half of the rest on lunch. While I was eating, I listened carefully to the conversations around me.
There was a lot of unnecessary noise and din around, and it was difficult to isolate at least something useful from them.
So over there, those girls are discussing local guys, it's not interesting at all. Those two guys over there are exactly the opposite, local girls. And those guys over there are discussing politics in the eternal - everything is wrong and everything is wrong. Although the familiar name caught my ear and I perked up my ears.
-...Yeah, haven't you heard? Prince Zuko was banished from the palace. He had an Agni Kai with the Lord and he fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness.
- Hmmm, we definitely don't need such a ruler. So, Princess Azula is still laying claim to the title of Fire Lord?
-I hope not, women are so...
I didn't listen anymore. Yes, the palace has been stormy lately. Well, Zuko had to mess up like that, ask for forgiveness at the Agni Kai in front of a crowd of witnesses. It's good that it all ended only in expulsion.
Okay, well, after finishing the rice, I headed to the next point of my plan - the weapons store.
In this city it turned out to be very large and somewhat reminiscent of a supermarket. A cash register with a seller and huge shelves of various weapons and armor. Bows, nunchucks, swords of any kind. But one, seemingly quite simple sword in a sheath, hung separately on a special rack, near the cash register.
"Oh, you have good taste," the seller said when he noticed what I was looking at, "this sword was personally forged by Master Piandao..."
— By the way, I'm talking about him. Can you tell me where he lives?
- Hmm, do you want to ask to become his student? - the seller accurately noted, - follow the main road to the end of the village, there you will see the road to his residence. Maybe you can do it.
After these words, he fell silent, continuing to polish some kind of sword.
"Thank you," I nodded and headed along the path that the man suggested to me.
When I reached the end of the main road, it was not difficult to spot the Master's residence. Unless I have to climb up the not very smooth road without my running, which is already a little difficult.
I didn't even think about how to ask to become a student, so I'll go the simple way - I'll tell the whole truth, except air magic and come what may.
Perhaps such a simple approach is to blame for the breeze that, due to my running, has firmly settled in my head lately, but now I seem to have kicked it out and began to think with emotions. Came to the same conclusion.
I can't offer him anything, say that I am a master myself, and I want to further my training with him and in general it's an honor for him, the plan, of course, is good, if only I knew at least which side to hold the sword on.
I mean, of course I know how to hold a sword, but that's where my knowledge ends.
Approaching the large ornate gate, I quickly glanced at myself. I wore the same clothes as at home, having only washed them a couple of times on the hike. Therefore, she looked as unpresentable as possible. Okay, it's too late to drink Borjomi when your kidneys are failing.
I have to knock, otherwise I can stand there thinking for another hour.
Hmm, if it was at night, I would have thought it was some kind of horror movie. I knocked with the round ring-handle, the door vibrated loudly, and I began to humbly wait. I really hope that this is not a typical Chinese master, and I won't have to sit here for ten hours.
It turned out that everything was not so scary, and after just about half an hour, during which I managed to curse this swordsman, some pot-bellied guy with a receding hairline opened the door for me.
"I would like to study," I said to his raised eyebrow and made the traditional hand-fist gesture.
- Do you know that the teacher does not accept new students? — this old man asked in a swaggering voice, and extended his hand in an unambiguous gesture, "do you think he will accept you?"
With a heavy sigh, I placed the rest of the money in his palm. Taking into account the purchase of provisions, maps and other things, there was still almost nothing left.
"Okay, you can talk to him," said the butler or whoever he was and turned around and walked away, clearly meaning for me to follow him.
All I had to do was follow. The traditional style of the building, as usual, hurt my eyes a little, but to the credit of the master, the appearance was much more white than red. There were also almost no awkward pipes anywhere, except, judging by the structure, the forge. That's where steam engines are probably used to their fullest extent... although wait, the teacher is far from a magician, this is a known fact. Eh, okay, let's see.
Early on I praised the Master; inside there were, as usual, many shades of red. However, I'm almost used to it now. We climbed to the highest point of the main building, where there was a large window wide open, where the teacher was looking, turning away from the entrance.
Judging by the desktop, he was drawing something, at least before, but now he is resting or thinking. Who will understand him?
"Teacher," I began with the legendary "sensei," albeit slightly in a local manner, "my name is Akimaru and I would like to study with you."
And he bowed his head with the traditional gesture with his hands. Don't start verbal diarrhea right away. Let him ask, I will answer.
"Let me guess, you walked hundreds of miles from your small village where you were the best and decided that you were worthy to study with me?" — he asked neutrally, still looking at the landscape outside the window.
It's good that I decided not to go with this plan. Apparently everyone who comes to him pours something like that. Well then, let's still go with my main point.
- Yes, I walked hundreds of miles, but from the capital of the Fire Nation. I was born into an aristocratic family, but without fire magic, so they decided to sell me to someone as a good product. I ran away and decided to prove at least to myself that I was worth at least something.
The pathos even made my teeth hurt a little. I wanted it without this excessive... pathos. Tell it like it is and see what they answer. Well what can I say? The situation is conducive to something like that.
"You haven't been able to prove yourself very well yet," the master chuckled, turning to me.
Ha, but the breed is visible. Also clearly not from the villages, although the shape of the eyes is too Asian hints that he is clearly not from a higher environment. Although who knows, is it worth mentioning how many bastards live in this world?
I'm a good student - in my head I've already called a master, not even mine, a bastard.
"I'm afraid I don't have any achievements that I can talk about," I again looked away to the floor, not that I was ashamed of it, but rather wanted to show that I was like this, sad from the fact of my worthlessness, - the butler said that I need to prove to you that I am worthy. But I'm not sure about this myself. I didn't even have to hold the sword in my hand, to say nothing of any mastery.
To this, the Master only smiled slightly at the corner of his lips and said, getting up and picking up the sword:
"Well, let's go see together if you're worthy." Behind me.
There was nothing to do, now the whole delegation stomped down to the platform in front of the entrance. What he wants to see, who knows, but in any case, he won't kill me?
"Don't worry, you're not in danger, but I want to watch you in battle," said the Master when we reached the place, "take any sword."
He waved towards the counter, where the local consumer goods clearly lived. Hmm, okay, let's try. Surprisingly, there were no legendary katanas on the stand. There were ordinary swords sharpened on both sides, one of which I took. Hmm, pure drin, and one-handed at that, what should I do with it?
When I returned back to the center of the site, the master, without turning his head, asked:2- Ready?2"Yes," I answered simply.
If he is holding back, then he is not human. I barely had time to blow the breeze from my head through my body - so I had more endurance, and more strength, too, and he was already rushing at me with a sword.
I had to dodge. And then the situation terribly smacked of déjà vu. The master waved his sword and tried to hit me, but I simply dodged over and over again. Even at the beginning of the movement, I roughly understood what the end would be. The same as once in childhood against Chan. I walked away from some blows, I barely had time to simply deflect my body from some, there was no beauty in my movements, but there was lightness. Well, maybe this is another property of airbenders? If that's the case, then I understand why they were cut. There are too many goodies at the very start of development.
Although, on the other hand, all these buns do not give a single ounce during an attack - all I managed to do was swing a piece of iron, approximately in the direction of Piandao, but he waved it off with his sword and immediately carried out a blow, scratching my stomach and here, it was clearly giveaway, I definitely saw that if I wanted, they would have already released my guts. I jumped away and began to feel the wound, as I thought at first - nothing serious, just a scratch.
"Stop," the teacher said sharply, returning the sword to its sheath, "that's enough." You will not become a Sword Master, Akimaru.
Fuck you. We've arrived.
"Stop," the teacher said sharply, returning the sword to its sheath, "that's enough." You will not become a Sword Master, Akimaru.
- Why?! — it was a cry from the soul, I admit. It's very disappointing to go this route, almost to interest the teacher and receive such a response.
- Quiet, quiet, I didn't say that I wouldn't undertake your training. It's just that you won't become a sword master in any case," the teacher shrugged, as if apologetically, "you dodged all the blows very well, but for a swordsman this is not right." The Master of the Sword must go straight - every fight is like the last. The path of the sword is the path of attack.
- But... how? — that's all I could say.
"We will find you a weapon that suits your style," Piandao smiled, seeing my face, "and with it you will become a Master." And, of course, I will also teach you how to fight with a sword. Better than in the army. But it will take a long time. So many. Finding the right weapon for you is not a task of a week or a month, but rather of several years.
"I ran away from home," he shrugged, "I want to prove to myself that I'm worth something, and it doesn't matter how long it takes," and Mai also needs to prove that I'm worth something. And somehow it's not solid. Eh, I wonder how she is? She was probably offended, but she knows that freedom of action is a fundamental thing for me, especially since I have nowhere to live anyway," I widened my lips in a smile.
"You will work off your stay here," the Master decided to clarify, given the amount of money he had, and I saw the price tags on his weapons, this will most likely be part of the training. He considers me a golden youth with everything that implies, including arrogance.
"Of course, teacher," a traditional bow and a gesture with his hands.
Okay, fuck it, let's go!
* * *
A month later, we can sum up the first results. My teacher is nothing like the sensei from old Asian movies. More precisely, he disguised himself effectively as one, and for the first three days I directly believed in this mask, before he decided to drink.
As it turned out, he is still a reveler and a rake, and this time I was very stupid that I didn't ask anyone at the bar about Piandao. After all, he is a regular there. Nothing swinish - he doesn't get too drunk, wisely balancing on the edge. But he often sets the whole local village on fire. But without any excesses.
It also turned out that in addition to the butler who greeted me, there were other people living here. Maids, to be more precise. And at the moment when I realized that he was sleeping with all of them, and everyone knew about everything, I thought, was my great sensei a misfit?
And what? Have you assembled a harem? Collected. Have you mastered some secret art? Mastered it. So much so that any magician will be sad if he finds himself among the Master's enemies. Did you rebuild the Domina? Oh, how it was rebuilt, the house is the envy of everyone who can.
In short, the man lives incredibly well, to the point of envy, even his hobby - forging - does not take away money, but on the contrary - it brings in, and very, very large ones.
I would like that. Instead of preparing by the sweat of your brow for upcoming problems. For now, the Master made me just train. Yes, yes, physically - I've been running from this all my life and now it overtook me. Squats, push-ups, press, running and so on. The main thing here is what? That's right, don't go bald.
He hasn't pushed me with any special philosophy yet. He just forced me to put a strain on my body, apparently I was really too frail. And at the same time he began to use me as an assistant in the forge. Bring it, give it, don't stir it. But he explained the different steps to me, despite the fact that I had no particular interest. But I have to forge my own weapons myself, that's the tradition.
Yeah, all that's left is to find him. Sometimes the Master brought me different swords, made me wave them, and looked at me and looked. Here you go, Ollivander of local bottling. Were you expecting visual special effects or something?
By the way, the forge turned out to be without any special bells and whistles. The most standard one, and the master worked not with mithril and adamantium, as I had hoped in my heart, but with the most common metals, ranging from steel and iron to various alloys. But, as he confidentially told me, all this is crap: a sword should not cost more than a ship - yeah, so why are you hanging such price tags - but should serve as a weapon. And any alloys that are a little stronger than steel, or elaborate guards are nothing more than pampering.
What difference does it make that this alloy blade is a little stronger than ordinary steel? Tales about long duels between two swordsmen, during which a purely theoretically ordinary sword will break, but a special one will still withstand - are nothing more than fairy tales. A real fight is fast and fleeting, no more than five to ten minutes, taking into account all the conversations and breaks. There is no time for the strength of the sword.
It is unrealistic to sharpen one sword so that it can cut others like spikelets. Whatever alloy you take, well, it's unrealistic.
But being afraid of losing a sword in battle is already very bad. The sword is, of course, an extension of the hand and so on, but it is still a simple weapon. Which you can throw at someone or use for something other than its intended purpose, without fear of breaking it.
At least this is the wisdom my teacher shared with me as he smelted a sword from yet another alloy for some terribly expensive order.
Maybe he is grumbling because such swords are more difficult to make? Hmmm.
This is roughly how my first month of study went. Why did I mark this particular date? Because after that the master condescended to talk.
It's not that he didn't talk to me before, but now he decided to explain himself.
"You see, Aki, I had to see how serious you are," he began when we were sitting in his office, and he was drawing some kind of picture, "teenage riots are quite common, and you sounded with enough determination that I accepted you, but decided to make sure. There's still a lot of time ahead, and an extra check at the start won't hurt. Anyway, I sent out orders to my connections and in the coming year samples of weapons from completely different tribes and peoples will flock to me. We'll find something for you.
"Ah-ah," I said thoughtfully, but decided to say thank you just in case, "thank you, teacher."
"It's not worth it," he chuckled, "it was also necessary to physically tighten you up a little." Because the characteristic "pale moth" was exactly about you. Before you could even swing a sword at all, you had to build up a little muscle.
Not that the result is directly visible. I was still tall and thin, except that the muscles were a little outlined. Although I have clearly become stronger, maybe it will actually be easier to swing a sword.
"Come here, let's start with something simple," he called me and I obediently approached, "a fighter practices many arts to train his mind as well." You must learn calligraphy.
With these words, he laid out all the writing utensils, including the brush and paper. Fast and precise movements. The paper and brush were not standard for a large number of notes, like mine - consider it a little more difficult than writing with a pen, but large ones - just like that for learning to write.
"I already know calligraphy," I blinked, "how will this help?"
"Write your name," the master did not pay attention to my question, handing me a brush, "you must learn to leave your own mark." Whether with a brush or a sword, these marks cannot be erased. You can't change your mind after you've already left a mark.
Philosophy has begun. Well, okay, you'll have to accept it and try to understand it, after all, given that there is magic here, this can also happen for a reason.
"I understand, teacher," I nodded, trying not to fall out of such an important atmosphere. A couple of seconds and my name is neatly and clearly written.
"Hmm," Piandao said, looking at the inscription and rubbing his chin, "why didn't you immediately say that you had already studied calligraphy?" It's good that you don't have to invent any more of this near-philosophical nonsense in order to force you to learn to read and write at least a little.
- I told you! — I was righteously indignant, slowly starting to wrap my head around the situation and understand what all this tinsel was about.
"Everyone says that they know how to do it," Piandao waved his hand, "but in reality it turns out that they hardly ever learned anything long ago." And it is necessary to develop fine motor skills. As well as a diploma. Did you go to school?2"I actually graduated from the men's academy in the capital," raised one eyebrow in May's style, "with honors and several years earlier than the others."
"And why didn't you tell me right away when you asked to become a student?" - If the master was surprised, not a single muscle on his face flinched.2- How will this help me in fencing? - I was already surprised.
"Intelligence is an important thing for a swordsman," the teacher again went into philosophical thoughts, the only thing missing in the background was traditional Chinese music on some kind of wind instrument, "a sword is a simple weapon, but in the hands of a master this weapon becomes the most dangerous." Just as your imagination is limitless, so are the possibilities of the sword...
"Yes, it's clear that you're not teaching stupid waving and there must be something in your head," I deciphered, "but still the achievement is average." They teach there. Did you see anything? It's complete bullshit, even in high school. I mastered calligraphy, for example, by begging a teacher from my parents at the age of five.
"Hmm," the Master looked at me again with a different look, "you understand very precisely what I want to say."
"I understand why these philosophical debates are needed - to set the student in the right mood, to force him not only to swing a sword mindlessly, but also to have some principles and views, so I have nothing against it and listen to your wisdom," I again deciphered his lengthy statement , except that in the end he could not resist and slightly hit the sarcasm. A drop. This is all May's influence.
"You know... I recently heard rumors that there is a real scandal in the capital," the master abruptly switched to a simpler tone, "a bunch of graduates were found visiting one of them with many empty bottles and in clearly compromising poses." The first pregnancies and weddings have already begun.
"Oops," I smiled wryly. I warned the owner of the house that everything must be cleaned up quickly in the morning. But who listens to me?
"You arranged this after all," the teacher said without changing his facial expression.
"I already knew then that it looked like I would soon have to run away and decided to make the graduation memorable for the guys," he shrugged, "I warned, and there were responsible girls and boys, so that there would be no incidents, but, apparently, it was too early for me left the holiday, and responsibility is a relative concept after two bowls of sake.
"What a pity that the sword is not yours," the master unexpectedly smiled, "you could make an excellent Sword Master." But an equally good Master of other weapons will emerge.
- They won't sell me alcohol, I won't run to the city to get it for you! - Maybe this time I didn't decipher it completely accurately, but I decided to definitely disown this matter. For now, if the master himself doesn't let me down from the "mountain," then Fat, the butler who met me, runs to buy local strong drinks.
"Hmm," Piandao smiled even more, finally losing the mask of a wise teacher and revealing his inner joker, "we'll see." We still have many years ahead of us. And you still have a lot to do. So you will rather run for yourself. Let's go, it's time for you to start mastering at least the sword.
This is where I really didn't feel good. It's better to let him continue to squint at the sensei than like this.
***
After a significant conversation with the master, the training went downhill, so much so that what the hell. Thousands of repetitions of the most basic sword strikes? Yes. And so every day. True, now there is nothing at all about physical training, mainly the master took up my stretching. And coordination of movements.
Yes, so far I was just jumping on the one and a half meter logs standing nearby, from one end to the other. But somehow it seems to me that this is just the beginning, looking at the oddities around this thing.
Well, the running itself has not gone away. In my opinion, the most time was devoted to running and I would have been glad, but you can't use air magic. The master cultivated endurance in me, oh, how he did.
The first problems arose at the beginning of my sparring with Fat. Just fights with wooden swords, in special armor. And then the gag came up: I couldn't fight normally, all my instincts wanted to dodge and under no circumstances take anything to block. And a counterattack from a block is a decent share of the principle of sword sparring. And as soon as I attack Fata, I come across a block and a counterattack, which is already difficult to dodge.
And it turned out to be a dead end where Fat cannot hit me until I try to attack, and then I lose.
During the next such sparring, the Master, as always looking at this matter, stopped in the midst:
"Stop," he said and we stood rooted to the spot, "Aki, now you are forbidden to move." And you, Fat, can only counterattack.
Needless to say, it was my beating? As soon as I try to hit, a counter-punch immediately flies at me, which, by the way, left a decent bruise. And still I tried to dodge, not block. It was just beyond me - reflexes. We waved like this for half an hour and the master stopped us again.
"Okay, let's return everything as it was, only now, Aki, you are alone, against the two of us," the teacher ordered, taking a wooden sword and standing behind me.
I was spinning around like I was in a frying pan, but, to my surprise, I escaped almost all the blows - sometimes the Master still got me. Ten minutes later he stopped the sparring again.
"Hmm," in a familiar gesture, Piandao began to stroke his chin with his hand, looking at me, "a sword definitely doesn't suit you." It dangles in your hand and you barely do anything with it. You need something that suits your fighting style, something... lighter and only suitable for attack.
With these words he left, leaving Fat and I looking at each other in bewilderment. What to do next? He left no instructions. Okay, I still have something to do.
We weren't put into sparring for a long time, and the master began to teach me how to properly attack with a sword. I'm not the first one who preferred to dodge, in fact there are many of them, but, as the teacher said, you can't become a Sword Master like that. Therefore, he taught me how to attack correctly in order to avoid a counterattack. It turned out to be a funny thing, but I need to keep my distance, and basically try to enter the opponent's vulnerable zone and strike quickly. Not heavy, no swing, just a thrust or a light cut, the main thing is speed. Fractions of a second during which the opponent will not have time to orient himself.
Easier said than done, of course. Of course, the obvious area is the back, but with all my speed, I have to manage to go beyond it. Therefore, more often I tried to dodge in the direction where my opponent had an empty hand. Fat really realized this quite quickly, and therefore sparring became my beating again, but I would beat an unsuspecting opponent. Maybe.
A wooden sword, even with the necessary balance, is very far from the real one, but the master adamantly forced me to spar with Fat.
"You see, Akimaru, now don't give me any weapon, you are at complete zero," the teacher once decided to let me in on the reasons for his actions, "you don't know how to fight." Then, when you reach at least the minimum level of a warrior, you will begin to see what you are missing in your weapons or what gaps in the enemy's tactics. In the meantime, give you at least a stick, even a sword, even nunchucks, you will simply dodge and try to hit your opponent as hard as possible. And I want to make you a Master, and not a simple warrior.
Then I didn't understand what he was talking about. After all, this is the principle of all battles, no? Don't let yourself get hit and hit your opponent. But the wisdom was taken into account and I tried hard to understand it through training.
One day the master decided to teach me another important thing for a fighter. For the first time, the two of us left the estate together and went to some mountain, which offered a beautiful view of the waterfall and river.
"In battle, you will only have a moment to remember the situation," of course, he first blindfolded me, and as soon as the bandage fell off, I saw a beautiful sight. It can't be compared to that ill-fated mountain on the coal islands, but quite, quite, but immediately they turned my back, laying out a brush and canvas in front of me - paint.
Well, I drew it as best I could. Of course, I am absolutely no artist, but this did not bother the master. In the evenings, he taught me to draw different pictures, from the very basics, we spent very little time on this, but I hated these classes.
Because we painted his maids in different outfits or even naked. And they, such bitches, do everything they can to show themselves in the best light.
Here's the story - it turned out that this was not exactly the master's harem. These are more like a kind of escort services. Almost nothing is required from the girls: cleaning the house once a week with this composition was not so difficult, but the main requirements were from them at night. If anything, they knew what they were getting into and were not averse to spending time with the legendary Piandao, who even keeps himself in shape, and that's not even taking into account their salary.
But then many of them got the idea in their heads to seduce me too. Attempts at seduction or even direct proposals began, from which I ran. I don't know why, but I ran. In the hope that the Master would rein in his... maids, I went after a while to complain to him.
It was a mistake. It turned out that he's not only not against it, he's even very much in favor, and now, having received official permission, the local girls have gone wild. And the master is happy to help them get me. Traitor.
So drawing pictures was still torture for me, which everyone around me watched with pleasure. Inhumans.
I actually don't know the reason why I avoided them so much. By and large, it would be possible to sleep, and it's not that the body is against it, it's very much for it, rather, it's even asking me to take part in it. But somehow I'm not used to this... if it were the other way around, and if I seduced them, then yes, but here there is some kind of strange effect. Rather, if you see a person rushing towards you, you will run away from him just in case, and so it is here. I run from them just in case. But I feel that this matter will end soon, oh soon.
In any case, now regularly every three days the master took me to different places and gave me seconds to remember the surroundings and apply them to the canvas. To be honest, I felt the effect only over time, only after months of such activities, I realized that I remember the environment exactly, as soon as I saw it for a second. The result is more than good.
The truth is that it has increased in some places and decreased in others. I became very absent-minded. Not just Gildarts from Fairy Tail, I was very clearly in control of my surroundings; rather, I could sometimes get lost in my thoughts and not notice my name, or get slightly lost in time. I strictly suppress such things in myself, but, as it turns out, these are not critical things. There is a strict toggle switch between a combat situation and a normal one. The master suffers from the same thing, as he confided to me, that he kept himself in good shape, but don't be afraid of problems, they won't kill you.
* * *
Six months later, the results were already there, and quite good. At least for me.
"Let's start," said the master's voice.
Fat went on the attack, making a simple attack with his sword, from which I went to the side. Approaching the butler from the right side, my attack attempt failed - Fat blocked my light blow and, with a small swing, tried to reach me with a regular slashing blow, from which I jumped back, in the process trying to reach me with the tip. It didn't work, I didn't have enough sword length. Fat tried to reach me with a simple direct piercing attack, under which I dived and, straightening up, with a clear oblique blow "showed" a scratch on the butler's body.
"Stop," said the master, "Aki won." Still the same fighting style, but apparently I won't get anything better from you. You took just one attack to block, that's already good. And I can say that it seems that you are already noticing the shortcomings of your weapon. Is not it?
And it was true. More precisely, not in weapons, but in their quantity.
"Yes, I need a second sword," I nodded importantly, "with two swords I can definitely get Fata."
At this the master closed his eyes and counted to ten, apparently.
- Okay, try it. Take the second wooden sword," the master apparently decided to teach me in practice.
"But I don't need an ordinary sword." I won't be able to fight for long with such a heavy weapon in both hands. I need something much lighter and longer.
Yes, I was going to say this from the very beginning, but the teacher looked too smug, he was a fucking manipulator, I had to screw him up somehow.
To this, Piandao only sighed sadly, muttering something under his breath, none other than prayers to Agni.
— It was a joke about two weapons, I hope? - the master decided to clarify, but seeing the misunderstanding on my face, he continued, - you would rather cut yourself than learn to fight competently with two swords... or any other one-handed weapon. This can help against a crowd of incompetent opponents, but against a competent swordsman...
—Are there many competent swordsmen in the world, teacher? - I clarified, - I only know you. At least in the Fire Nation. Maybe the landmen will find a couple more. Much more often I will have to fight against a crowd of various little things that don't know how to do anything. And here the second weapon will be ideal. Moreover, it is far from a fact that with my fighting style the second weapon will interfere so much against masters.
The Master looked at me for a good thirty seconds at this speech, apparently thinking about something. This is not our first dispute on this basis. And it all comes down to the fact that he simply does not recognize weapons in both hands. This is more of a principle than a real necessity. But I felt more and more acutely that I needed at least something in my second hand. I offset all the shortcomings of such a fight with my speed, which even the master admits, and evasiveness.
"Let's first decide on the weapon itself," the Master exhaled heavily. I almost convinced him, and it showed. And he knows that I know that he knows. And this makes me a little mad - recently they sent me... a sketch of, no more than, one weapon that was lost in time, but it fits perfectly with your description. A friend of mine from the mainland found a description in old books. I don't know why this weapon died out over time, most likely simply because the others did - spears and pikes are more suitable for the army, and there are no masters to handle more sophisticated swords, but nevertheless. Come here and look.
Climbing the steps to the master, I stared at the drawing. This is literally a simple drawing, clearly redrawn from somewhere, and even though it was a high-quality image, it was far from even a drawing.
The name of this weapon easily came to mind - rapier. A longer and thinner blade, unlike a standard sword, and a more voluminous guard that protects the hand. This would be the ideal weapon for me: it is lighter than a standard sword and can be used to cut very quickly. And since the blade is longer than a standard sword, I will be able to keep my distance and act without letting the enemy get close to me with my mobility.
The ideal weapon for me. It was this idea that I voiced to the master.
- Yes, but, as you can see, we will have to do it ourselves. Even more likely for you. Moreover, we will select the entire balance empirically. So get ready. Now your training time is decreasing, but your time in the forge is increasing.
To this I just sighed heavily.
I hate the forge. The master literally stood near the entrance and looked at me trying to do something. Of course, this is not my first attempt, one way or another, but I did every step of the process, although not all together with a new form.
Melt the metal in a furnace, fanning the fire with bellows, pour it into a special clay mold, which, bad luck, is not available, so you will have to pour a standard sword, and then use a hammer to forge something more similar to a rapier.
This is what I did. My first craft was terrible, slightly crooked, and you couldn't sharpen it properly, so the master sighed and decided that it was just right for training, just let him correct it.
And now I stepped aside, once again watching how the fire in the forge was lit with bellows. To warm up my sword.
Of course, I'm glad that the master found me a suitable weapon, but I have a feeling that now I'm facing a new round of some kind of clever training from the teacher.
The same crap I'm jumping on has not all been used yet. A couple of times the master let me test the gap with the pendulum, and I even succeeded, but the teacher only pursed his lips displeasedly and continued to force me to simply jump here and there, and sometimes dodge the stones that he threw at me.
the master even promised to try to put my paintings up for sale, immediately charging him fifty percent. Well, I didn't mind, in the end it was easy for me to draw, when he taught me, he would find where to put it up for sale, and even bring money into my hands. This is not to mention the fact that I live at his expense, and despite his threats of detention, it all ended in the first week, when the master was convinced that I was ready for dirty work and would not complain.
I don't know what it is about my paintings, but at a certain moment I became interested in this topic and began to draw landscapes myself, landscapes from my head.
Perhaps this world is not yet ready for cyberpunk paintings, but I didn't know that the master would trample all of this for sale. And I started drawing whatever my heart desired. I even drew a portrait of Mai from memory, but I didn't give it for sale, I left it to give to her when I see you. And so, mostly I painted something futuristic, in dark colors. Sometimes I hit on something lighter, then I drew flying islands with windmills on them or something... airy, in general.
The master looked and looked, and then dragged her for sale, forcing her to sign the back of each one, not with her name, but with a pseudonym. I signed as Aki. And not with a symbol, but with a language straight from the past world, he signed his name. So they couldn't easily repeat it, haha.
Okay, these are all distant thoughts, until for some reason I could not take my eyes off the furs, and it was as if an "alert" light bulb was working in my head. I just can't understand what's wrong with this, but I just want to punch myself in the head in order to understand. You know, similar to a word that you always knew, but right now you can't find, although it's already on the tip of your tongue.
And on the next exhalation of air on the fire, which made it flare up even more, the thought finally struck.I'll be honest, I'm a little lost on air magic. The master puts a lot of pressure on me, but then I have to do something myself, secretly from everyone? No. At most on the weekend I had to wave the sword a little and try some techniques. Nothing succeeded.
We blow air on the fire - we make it stronger. I think I figured out how to disguise my magic, and if I understand correctly, then the disguise is very effective.
"Master, I need to leave," I muttered and, without listening to him, completely absorbed in my thoughts, I went to the other end of the yard, slightly closed from prying eyes, not forgetting to take a candle with me.2It will just be crazy - if I succeed, it will be something with something. Damn it, I can show everyone that I am a magician, and if I correctly imagine the reaction of fire and oxygen in my head, then... it will be very, very good.
It turned out that I had imagined it wrong. To begin with, I suffered for about several hours to dose the magic so as not to blow out the candle. Although it would be better to blow it away along with everything that is underneath it.
By supplying a stream of air just a little at a time, I, of course, intensified the flame... at the level of "blow on a candle, it will light up a little more." The plan went down the drain.
My wind is just that - wind, and I need oxygen. And how do you order it to be obtained? I'm an Airbender, not an Oxygenbender. As far as I remember, you can interact with an element that is not your own, but it works in such a way that you control something small in something larger - for example, earth in metal, but not vice versa. No one thought of digging out any separate part from the ground.
But I need it! And how to do this?
Frustrated, I went back to the Master, who was already finishing bringing the blade back to normal.
"We won't make the guard like in the picture yet, we'll make it simpler," the master explained when he saw me. And the guard in the picture is really too much. They tried to make it as light as possible, but at the same time so that it would not lose its protective properties, and therefore it was all some kind of solid pattern that began on the blade and ended right at the end of the handle, forming a protective semi-dome for the hand.