We square off.
No words. No movement. No openings.
Not because we won’t move—because we can’t.
At Master level, you learn to read ahead. In our school, we call it Breath Reading.
But that’s just the start. Real masters push further. They move into Presence Reading.
Reading killing intent.
You feel the violence before it happens. You sense the moment an enemy even thinks of striking—and you move.
That’s what makes you untouchable.
But not invincible.
Because there’s a technique that kills killing intent.
When both fighters can read and erase intent, the fight becomes a war between Void and Substance.
Void is movement with all intent erased.
Substance is a strike that doesn’t bother to hide.
React only to intent, and Void will gut you.
Focus on Void, and you’ll eat a heavy blow straight from Substance.
Hell, even suggesting Void is enough to mess with your opponent’s head.
Then comes the peak—True Initiative.
Read the moment before movement, then move first.
The ultimate counter.
But when both sides stand on that summit, stalemate sets in.
“Fuu.”
“Hfff.”
I close in—barely a toe’s length. Master doesn’t twitch.
Another step. Nothing.
Again. Still stone.
Our zones of control touch. Still nothing.
We’re so close now I have to hold my breath.
This is Eightfold Soulfist’s home turf—zero-distance brawling.
He’s all Void right now. No malice. No thoughts. No self.
Just a man basking in the sun, watching pigeons peck the ground.
That’s why I can’t read him.
But he’ll move. I know he will.
I step in again. Just one more inch.
I’m in his kill zone now.
If he strikes from Void, I won’t be able to dodge. Especially his strike.
And he’s sure it’ll land.
That certainty… it’s tempting.
I can kill him. I’ve got this.
The air snaps.
Void becomes Substance.
He lashes out with a spear-hand, zero warning, aimed at my throat—shortest line, fastest strike, pure demonic force.
It’s the Eightfold Soulfist Secret Technique: Six Harmony Lance.
A surge. A burst. A flow.
It’s Okinawan karate turned lethal spear, drilled through bone-deep conditioning.
That hand would punch through concrete, no problem. A one-hit kill.
But I saw it coming.
I counter with a knife-hand, deflect his wrist, crush the joint on contact. The lance glances off my neck, grazing the side of my carotid.
It was a feint.
His left hand is already inside my guard—headed straight for my gut.
Hidden Force.
Same move he taught Ron of the Hidden Force. Using the divine lance as bait to land the real hit.
This close, it’s inescapable.
Even knowing it’s coming, there’s no time.
A shockwave hammers the ground beneath me, spiderweb cracks blooming outward.
A compact Seismic Kick detonates through my core.
Ron’s specialty? No.
This is Alek of the Zero Force’s calling card.
A perfectly executed Surge strike.
“Hah!”
Master grins.
Perfect contact. Of course he’s happy.
Anyone would be.
So I grin, too.
His smile dies.
Because his left arm—elbow, shoulder, both—shatters like dry wood.
It happened in a blink. I caught his fist at the perfect instant. One hand. Wrist reversal. Force Redirection.
The Surge strike didn’t slam into me—it rebounded through his own arm, snapping it to pieces from wrist to shoulder.
He’s stunned. In pain.
That’s my opening.
I hammer a fist along his centerline.
Mana armor’s tough. Can take a bullet.
Doesn’t matter.
Chinese martial theory: the body’s water. Hit hard enough, and you shake the organs inside.
“Surge strike. Returning the favor.”
BOOM.
Seismic Kick.
Ground quakes. Cracks spider out from my heel.
I channel the recoil back through my fist and unload.
Master lifts off the floor, two meters at least, then hits the ground hard.
He spasms. Blood bubbles from his mouth.
His solar plexus is crushed in. Centerline shattered. The shock’s probably wrecked everything nearby. Heart, lungs—ruined.
He won’t make it.
“Hah... hah... I killed him. I killed Master.”
I steady my breath, pick up the gun. Check the chamber.
It’s loaded with mercury rounds.
I walk up to him and raise the muzzle.
But I can’t shoot. Can’t finish it.
His ruined eyes look up at me—melted blue, filled with something like... confusion.
I can almost hear the question in his head: Why won’t this Demon end me?
His mouth hangs open, drooling blood.
He’s barely hanging on.
“Gahh... ahh... ahh... Ikaku... gehh—”
“...Master?”
“Ahh... Ikaku, Ikaku, Ikaku...”
Different tone. Not the beast-voice. Not madness. Just... him.
I drop to my knees, lean close.
“Magnificent Surge strike... that was.”
“Master!”
“Your true strength... I got to see it. I’m glad. I can pass it on now... give you my gift. Without any regrets.”
“Gift?”
“Ahh, never told you... surprise... no time to explain...”
His hand lifts. I grab it, firm.
“Ikaku... happy birthday. You’re a true Master. Steel body, divine techniques. Martial arts fused with modern weapons. No one can touch you now... gehh...”
I squeeze his hand.
“Hah... ahh... strongest fighter. If you hadn’t hesitated, I’d have lost right away. Master’s not enough for you anymore. You’re beyond that now. Grand Master... yeah... haha...”
His breath flickers. I keep holding on.
At the end, his fingers move again—reach for my cheek. Brush it once, gently.
“Ikaku... I’m glad I met you.”
“Me too. I’m glad I met you.”
“You’ve got a long road ahead. Hard times. Sad times. But joy, too. You’ll be okay. No more fear. Ahh, my boy, Ikaku... live long. Be happy.”
His hand drops.
His eyes go still, locked on a faraway place.
His smile stays. Cheerful. Peaceful.
My chest tightens. My breath catches.
The grief boils up and spills over.
“Thank you, Master.”
You gave me this life. These tools. This path.
Because of you, I made it here.
“Thank you for all your pains. Rest easy. I’ll be fine from here.”
I bow my head and cross myself in prayer.
You inherited everything. His techniques. His will.
You’re no longer just a Master. You’re a Grand Master.
You can walk on your own now. Stand tall. Move forward.
Because he believed in you.
I rise and give my final martial salute.
Then I turn and head back toward the West Wing.
The ballroom waits. The main building.
This cursed night isn’t done yet.
But I won’t let anyone else fall.