Will of the Battlefield

The applause did not cease.

It rolled across Blue Leaf Academy like distant thunder, rebounding from stone walls and tiled rooftops until even students from neighboring training fields wandered over to see what had happened.

Hawk and Garret stood opposite one another, their forearms still clasped.

Neither smiled broadly; they did not need to.

The respect between fighting men was seldom loud.

Garret released Hawk’s arm and stretched his sore shoulders. "I’ll be feeling that for a week."

Hawk chuckled. "So will I."

Master Oren snorted. "Serves you right."

A ripple of laughter passed through the instructors.

Principal Athenok stepped into the center of the courtyard. "Enough."

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried to every ear. Every conversation died immediately.

He looked first toward Garret. "You have no objections?"

Garret rubbed his bruised jaw before shrugging. "No, he belongs here."

Then he turned toward the gathered instructors. "What about the rest of you?"

Master Baelor Fenris stepped forward first.

His shoulder still bore the marks of Hawk’s throw. "I acknowledged him before; there is nothing further to discuss."

Master Oren smiled beneath his silver beard. "I have spent four decades chasing perfection inside forms."

He looked toward Hawk. "And today I was reminded that war does not ask what school you graduated from."

"It asks only one question: did you survive?"

One after another, the instructors nodded.

Some offered bows, while others simply folded a fist into an open palm.

None objected. Hawk had earned his place.

The students, however, were another matter entirely.

The moment Athenok dismissed the duel, nearly every aspirant surged toward Hawk at once.

"Master Hawk! I want to learn from you!"

"Please accept me!"

"Teach me your fighting style!"

"You defeated every master!"

"I want to become your disciple!"

Even students from other classes began gathering around him.

Within moments, Hawk disappeared beneath a crowd of eager faces.

Thane scratched his head. "Damn, Hawk became popular."

Conor laughed. "Well, didn’t he earn it?"

Simon remained rooted where he stood.

"I’ve never heard of instructors becoming this famous."

Even Max smiled faintly. "It was inevitable."

Hawk blinked in surprise as students nearly climbed over one another trying to reach him.

He raised both hands. "Easy, youngsters." But no one listened.

Questions continued flying from every direction.

"Master, will you teach me elbows?"

"What was that throw?"

"Can I learn to fight without martial arts too?"

"I want your style!"

"I’ll quit my current instructor!"

Baelor rubbed his forehead. "There goes my class."

Master Oren sighed dramatically. "I’ve become unemployed."

Principal Athenok looked mildly amused. He made no attempt to interfere.

This was Hawk’s problem.

Hawk waited patiently, and eventually, the voices quieted.

He looked over the dozens of hopeful faces, full of youth and determination.

He remembered seeing those same expressions years ago.

Many of those young men had never returned to the ring; underground fighting is a cruel sport.

His smile faded. "I’m honored."

The courtyard fell silent. "Truly. But..."

His gaze swept across every student. "I cannot teach most of you."

Confusion spread instantly.

One student raised his hand. "Why?"

Another frowned. "But you defeated the masters. You are the best right now."

A third spoke up. "Doesn’t that make you the strongest?"

Hawk shook his head. "No, it makes me..."

He searched for the proper words. "...different."

He slowly crouched and picked up a wooden training sword lying nearby.

Holding it loosely, he asked, "What do you see?"

Several answers came.

"A sword."

"Weapon."

"Wooden blade."

Hawk nodded, then he held it upside down. "What now?"

Students exchanged puzzled looks. "...Still a sword?"

He smiled. "Very good."

He tossed it aside. "My fighting is the same. I don’t see punches, I don’t see elbows or schools. I only see opportunities."

The students listened carefully. "I never belonged to a martial school. I learned from the streets, fighting since the age of fifteen."

"I copied, I stole, and I adapted." He tapped his own chest.

"There is no form inside here, no sequence, no sacred teachings, no hidden scroll... only instinct.

"I was raised by someone as a killing machine. Your masters learned martial arts, and they are amazingly good at it. I learned how to kill and crush my opponents."

Silence settled over the courtyard.

Master Baelor quietly folded his arms. "He’s right."

Students turned toward him.

Baelor continued, "If you have already begun learning structured martial arts, following Hawk would damage your progress."

Several looked confused.

Master Oren stepped beside him. "Imagine learning two languages.

"One says the sky is blue, the other says it is green. If you study both before mastering either, you become confused."

Baelor nodded. "Hawk’s instincts would constantly contradict your forms."

"You’d hesitate, and hesitation..."

He looked around the courtyard. "...gets fighters killed."

Hawk continued, "I can only truly teach people who have never learned martial arts.

"People whose bodies have not yet memorized another path."

He looked directly toward Thane. "Someone like him."

Every eye turned toward the giant.

Thane was poking his nose. "What?"

Garret laughed loudly. "Exactly."

Another student hesitated before asking,

"So... should we stay with our original masters?"

Hawk answered without pause. "Yes."

"If your family taught swordsmanship... continue."

"If you practice Beast Forms... keep learning that."

"If you’ve devoted years to Lightning Palm... don’t change the path."

He smiled warmly. "A master who deepens your foundation is worth more than one who tears it apart."

The words carried weight. Real weight.

Because every student knew Hawk could have accepted them all.

He could have basked in admiration. Instead, he had chosen honesty.

One by one, the students lowered their heads.

"I understand."

"So do I."

"Thank you, Master."

"I’ll continue with my instructor."

The crowd slowly dispersed, not disappointed but respectful.

Master Oren watched them leave before quietly saying, "He could’ve taken every disciple."

Baelor smiled. "I know... he protected every instructor."

Garret walked over, hands buried inside his pockets once again.

His lazy grin had returned.

He looked first at Hawk. "Not bad."

Then his gaze drifted toward Thane.

The giant stood exactly where he’d been ten minutes earlier.

Still trying to process everything.

Garret frowned. "You..."

He pointed lazily. "...are one lucky bastard."

Thane tilted his head. "Huh?"

Garret sighed out of frustration. "You dense ox."

He gestured toward Hawk. "For hand-to-hand combat, you’ve got him."

Then Garret jabbed a thumb at himself. "For weapons, you’ve got me."

The courtyard suddenly became quiet again.

Students looked at one another.

Then they realized something.

Conor spoke first. "...Wait."

Sky’s eyes widened. "...He’s right."

Simon looked between the two instructors. "...Those are... probably the two strongest combat instructors here."

Garret shrugged. "Probably?"

Baelor laughed. "Garret fights with dual axes; that’s what he is a master of."

Everyone was surprised once again. Garret had fought barehanded and still drove Hawk to his limits.

Hawk remained silent and smiled. To his defense, Max spoke up. "Hawk fought two masters before Instructor Garret.

"And Hawk is a killer; he fights mostly to kill. But he held back against the masters."

"Blah blah blah, say what you want, kiddo. Your Hawk is good, but not enough if I had my axes with me," Garret retorted. He couldn’t let anyone have higher glory.

Max chuckled. "Then try again, instructor." He looked at Hawk and spoke. "Hawk’s specialty is that he never fails to defeat his opponent a second time."

The situation was turning grim. Garret wouldn’t hesitate to fight again, and Max was poking him.

So, Master Oren stepped forward to change the subject. He spoke.

"Thane will be a monster if he learns from these two brutes."

That realization spread through the students like a plague.

Thane possessed monstrous physical strength.

Everyone already knew that.

Now, that same giant would train under Hawk.

An underground fighter, a killer, someone who survived against assassins, whose entire style revolved around ruthless instinct.

At the same time, he would study weapons beneath Garret.

A man infamous for fighting like a criminal despite being an academy instructor, the former three-hundred-man commander.

The combination sounded absurd and terrifying.

Conor scratched his cheek. "Imagine if Thane actually becomes skilled."

Sky answered quietly. "I don’t want to."

Simon swallowed. "He already throws people like sacks of grain. What happens when he learns technique?"

Max remained silent, his analytical mind already racing.

Strength, instinct, and weapon mastery. If those three pieces truly came together...

Thane’s ceiling would rise far beyond what anyone currently imagined.

Principal Athenok had been listening from the edge of the courtyard.

A smile slowly tugged at his lips. "I guess the Gods are pleased with me."

Zoases had once accused him of gambling on a single student.

Perhaps he had. But looking at Thane now...

The principal wondered if fate itself had decided to interfere.

One instructor would teach the giant how to wield weapons with precision.

The other would teach him how to survive battles no academy textbook could prepare him for.

And Thane, for all his simplicity, learned frighteningly fast whenever the lesson involved using his body.

Athenok exhaled slowly. "Blue Leaf Academy may have just accepted a monster."

Not a monster born from cruelty, nor from blessings. But one forged through relentless guidance.

He glanced toward Hawk and Garret, now bickering over whose turn it was to pay for drinks after the duel.

Then toward Thane, who was enthusiastically asking whether getting kicked in the groin really hurt that much.

Garret stared at him in disbelief. "You’ve never been hit there?"

Thane scratched his chin. "I don’t think so."

Garret looked at Hawk, and Hawk looked back.

The two veterans shared the same silent thought.

The poor fool has no idea how fortunate he is.

Their laughter echoed across the courtyard, and for the first time since the academy term had begun, Blue Leaf Academy felt less like a place of lessons and more like the beginning of legends.