Will of the Battlefield

Silence settled over the training court.

Not the peaceful silence of an empty hall; this one breathed.

Every spectator could hear the ragged breathing of the two men standing inside the ring.

Master Baelor Fenris rolled his aching shoulder once before settling into the low stance of the Death Scorpion.

His robes bore fresh dust from the throw, and his left arm tingled where Hawk’s lock had nearly dislocated it.

Across from him, Hawk stood with blood running down both forearms. His white shirt had become little more than torn strips clinging to his body.

Neither man smiled.

The duel had changed. It was no longer master testing stranger; it had become hunter against hunter.

Athenok folded his hands inside his sleeves. "Now... we witness why that man defeated Vidu."

Baelor moved first, not merely fast but blinding.

His feet skimmed over the stone without sound, covering six paces before most students realized he’d advanced.

His finger shot toward Hawk’s throat.

Instead of retreating, Hawk stepped inside.

The strike grazed his neck; a thin line of crimson appeared.

Before Baelor could retract.

THUMP

A palm buried itself into his ribs. Baelor slid backward, only half a step.

But the students noticed.

"So he finally attacked..."

Garret chuckled. "He finally stopped respecting distance."

Baelor rushed again. This time both hands came alive; one stabbed, the other worked as a feint.

The first attack hunted Hawk’s eye; the second aimed for his liver.

Hawk twisted; his shoulder barely escaped the first, and his elbow knocked aside the second.

Baelor immediately spun; his extended finger transformed into a chopping strike.

Hawk ducked beneath it. The chop shaved several strands of white hair.

Without stopping, Hawk drove forward.

BANG

Shoulder met chest. Baelor stumbled, and a knee followed.

The master blocked it with both forearms.

Pain exploded through his bones. "So heavy..."

He had expected technique. Instead, he had been struck by something that felt like a charging bull.

Baelor retreated two steps; Hawk did not allow a third.

He attacked. There were no elegant combinations, no beautiful forms in his style. It was only brutal violence.

Palm, elbow, shoulder, and knee. Everything became a weapon.

Baelor blocked a straight palm; another immediately smashed into his bicep.

His arm went numb; he countered with Death Scorpion.

The finger shot toward Hawk’s ribs; Hawk accepted the shallow puncture.

His other hand clamped around Baelor’s wrist. He twisted, pulled it, and answered with a headbutt.

BOOM

Forehead collided with forehead.

The crack echoed through the courtyard; students collectively winced.

Blood splashed across the stone; both men staggered apart.

Conor blinked.

"Did... Did he just headbutt a martial arts master?"

Garret grinned. "That’s fighting."

Baelor inhaled sharply; his forehead throbbed.

His vision swayed. Yet excitement burned in his eyes. "Again."

Hawk nodded. "Sure."

Both vanished simultaneously.

The courtyard erupted into explosions of sound.

PAK!

THUD!

CRACK!

Palm against palm, forearm against elbow, knee against thigh.

Every collision echoed across Blue Leaf Academy.

Students could no longer follow individual techniques.

They only saw flashes.

A white-haired figure.

A dark-robed master.

Dust rising beneath frantic feet along with occasional bursts of blood.

Then, Baelor’s claws returned. Snow Cougar.

His fingers slashed in impossible angles; Hawk’s sleeves were shredded further.

Fresh cuts opened across his chest. The watching healers unconsciously stepped forward.

Then froze, because Hawk didn’t seem to care.

Every wound he accepted bought him something.

An angle, a rhythm, and a pattern.

His eyes never left Baelor’s shoulders. Not the hands, but the shoulders and the hips.

The tiny shifts that betrayed movement before muscles even fired.

Max’s eyes widened. "He isn’t reacting... he’s predicting."

Simon swallowed. "Can anyone actually do that?"

Garret answered quietly. "No. Only people who’ve fought hundreds... or thousands of fights."

Baelor attacked with everything. Snow Cougar flowed into Mountain Bear.

Heavy palms replaced swift claws; each strike carried enough force to crack ribs.

Hawk answered with movement. A slight turn, a lowered shoulder.

A sidestep no wider than a boot; every massive palm missed by inches.

Baelor suddenly understood. His attacks were no longer surprising Hawk.

The realization unsettled him. He abandoned combinations and aimed for one decisive strike.

He planted both feet; his muscles tightened.

The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath.

"Mountain Bear... Crushing Palm."

His right hand shot forward; students gasped.

Even Garret’s lazy expression disappeared. "That’s dangerous."

Hawk did not evade; he entered again.

One hand slapped Baelor’s wrist upward; the second trapped the elbow.

His shoulder crashed into Baelor’s chest. Baelor’s momentum vanished.

Then, his hips turned, and his entire body moved as one.

Baelor’s feet left the earth. For a heartbeat, the master floated.

Then the world spun once again.

BOOOOOOM

The paving stones exploded beneath him; dust burst skyward. Several students instinctively shielded their faces.

When the dust settled, Baelor still lay on his back. His chest rose heavily; his eyes stared toward the clouds.

"...Beautiful..." he whispered.

Hawk did not pursue; he simply waited.

The master chuckled and pushed himself upright.

His body protested every movement; his shoulder burned.

His ribs screamed; his breathing had become uneven.

Yet his face wore peace. He looked at Hawk, then bowed. "I concede."

The courtyard remained frozen.

Baelor raised his voice. "So that every student hears me. I... Baelor Fenris... Master of the Nine Beast Scriptures... acknowledge Master Hawk."

The silence shattered; the instructors applauded first.

Not politely, but respectfully.

Master Oren nodded several times. "He deserves it."

Another instructor smiled bitterly. "I thought he relied on instinct."

Garret snorted. "He does. But instincts sharpened through real battle are deadlier than techniques polished in courtyards."

Athenok allowed himself a satisfied smile. He had invited Hawk merely to teach Thane.

Now he realized... Blue Leaf Academy had gained something much rarer.

Someone who had survived enough battlefields to strip combat down to its essence.

No wasted movement, no unnecessary pride. Just victory.

Hawk approached Baelor and extended his hand.

The master accepted it.

Pulling him to his feet, Hawk spoke. "Your Beast Scriptures are magnificent."

Baelor chuckled. "And your style?"

Hawk scratched the back of his neck.

"I told you. I don’t have one; I simply fight."

Baelor laughed louder. "You liar. No man fights like that without creating his own path."

Hawk only smiled. Perhaps. Or perhaps, years of surviving impossible fights had erased the need to name it.

The students erupted into conversation.

"I’ve never seen martial arts like that."

"Yeah, man, he used elbows, shoulders, headbutts... almost everything."

A student commented, "He might hit with his dick next time."

"Hahaha, he is savage."

Thane’s eyes sparkled. "Hawk!"

Hawk turned.

Thane gave him the biggest grin anyone had seen all day. "That was awesome!"

Hawk laughed. "I’ll teach you, Master Thane."

"You won’t," Garret interrupted.

Every head turned.

The lazy instructor stepped away from the crowd with both hands buried inside his pockets.

Gone was the bored old man who spent lectures yawning.

His amber eyes had sharpened; he stopped a few paces from Hawk.

For the first time, he looked interested.

Hawk tilted his head. "Is there anyone else who wishes to fight?"

Garret cracked his neck. "Yeah. I’ve been wanting to punch that smug smile off your face since yesterday."

A grin slowly spread across Hawk’s lips.

All this time, Hawk hesitated to fight. He always fought to kill and destroy; the master never gave any killing intent.

With such a fight, Hawk couldn’t perform well. But Garret... he was spitting killing intent.

This made Hawk happy. At last... a worthy challenge had stepped into the circle.