[Voidknight Ascension] Chapter 269 – Dreadfang

Sam’s days were filled with blood, sweat, and pain. Zahif was an excellent master. He taught Sam through trial and error. Showing him how to perform the maneuvers first, then having Sam practice with real-world inspired drills.

After the first day, the training sessions were private. Everything he taught Sam was for Sam alone. Zahif was very strict about anybody else except for Komachi viewing the training.

Something that Sam was ambivalent about. The first day was rough. He was beaten and bested in every single way imaginable in front of the upper echelon of the Scarlet Lotus.

Nobody looked at him as if he was any less, however. In fact, most watched him with a degree of pride and interest. As if he was some favored son who stumbled upon a new weapon that would benefit them all.

The following days were better, with Sam able to land a punch or two before getting the wind knocked out of him. In truth, he didn’t care much if people were watching.

He had competed in HEMA tournaments and was used to tuning out the world around him. However, he had to admit that having a one-on-one session with Zahif felt appropriate.

Komachi was having a blast with her Painter teacher, who was showing her how to not only use her newfound Path, but to create works of art as well. The teacher was another nelana, the same feline race that Renni was. Naturally, that meant the two of them got along very well.

Zarishna was in attendance once, with that oversized bear of hers who took up a whole row of seats. There wasn’t so much pride there, but interest. Not necessarily in him, but the fighting style.

Even Zarishna was not given free access whenever she liked. Zahif had denied her at the door when she appeared out of the blue one day.

Strangely enough, she didn’t seem bothered. Zarishna inclined her head with a smirk while spreading her arms, one of metal and the other flesh, in a shrug. “I had to try, didn’t I?” After that, she left.

Sam looked at Zahif curiously. “Why do you not allow her to watch?”

“Because this is a gift. It is meant for you.”

“You worry they could learn it?” Sam asked, curious why a master of the Scarlet Lotus wouldn’t want to share his gifts.

Zahif laughed. “Not in the least. Not only because they are incapable, particularly Zarishna, but because just copying my movements is not enough.”

“Is that not what you are teaching me?” Sam was growing more confused by the minute.

“That is what it might feel like, but it is not the same. I am imparting my mana signature to you with each instruction. It is something personal and intimate. Something I could not give without full consent. Try as somebody might, they will never be able to learn this style unless I teach them directly.”

“And what about me?” Sam couldn’t help but ask. “Am I capable of learning it? We’ve been training for days–”

Zahif held up a hand. “And you have seen no skill notifications. Yes, I am well aware. You are capable or else I would not teach you. I would teach you something else. I have many styles at my disposal but none as pure as the dreadfang. It is my own personal style that I have spent decades cultivating. It is my greatest wish that you receive it and master it.”

Sam chuckled. “You’ve seen me fight. I’m more of a punch somebody’s teeth into their throat kind of guy.”

“That is because you do not know how to use your strength,” Zahif chided. “You are more powerful by far than those of a higher level. Even I could not approach the heights of what you are capable of. True, I can access all of my power in an instant.”

“Well before I could ever build up to my peak, I’ll wager.”

“Indeed,” Zahif said, pacing back and forth in front of Sam with his hands clasped behind his back. “You see your strength and view it as a torrential power. Something you can aim and throw. You do not try to guide it. I am here to show you how to use that power efficiently. I noticed it as a boy on the Wavedancer. You are powerful, but you are about as graceful as an overladen cart. Woe betide any who get in your way, but it is not too difficult to get out of your way in the first place. With my guidance, I hope to change that.”

Sam folded his thick arms and regarded the old man. He still struggled to see him as a hundred-plus year-old man. When he hopped around in a blur, he seemed far more like the child Sam knew and missed.

In those hours of training, Sam felt that connection rekindle between them. A companionship that he had feared forever lost.

Judging by Zahif’s broadening smile, Sam didn’t think he was the only one who felt that way.

Komachi sauntered in, fur splattered with multicolored paint. She looked up at the two of them. “Icawok?”

Zahif was simply there one moment, and the next he was kneeling beside Komachi. With the tenderness of a child to a favored pet, he took out a kerchief and cleaned off Komachi.

She meowed affectionately.

Sam shook his head and came over to check on her. The reference was less than a few weeks old for Sam, but for Zahif it was more than a hundred years ago.

“Icawok indeed,” Zahif said with a faint chuckle. “I feel more like a child the more I’m around you two.”

“Is good for your soul,” Komachi said enthusiastically.

“That,” Zahif said, folding his stained kerchief, “is a truth of monumental proportions.” He looked over at Sam, then back at Komachi. “How would you like to see Sam learn a new skill on this day?”

“Machi would love that!”

Sam frowned, wondering what Zahif was planning. “You said I needed to figure it out.”

“You have,” Zahif assured him, standing up and dusting off his knees. He marched on Sam, who instinctively stepped back.

“In fact, Machi would bet on that,” Komachi muttered in a deep voice. Fortunately, nobody took her up on the offer.

She was a bit too eager to gamble lately.

Sam was growing a little concerned with her painting ability. She was able to create replicas of real objects. Of course, the first thing she tried to recreate was money.

A lot of people were fooled by it. In general, people were overly willing to trust Komachi. He wasn’t sure if that was a golden, fluffy soul aeder thing, or simply a Komachi thing.

Try as he might to explain counterfeiting to her, she just didn’t seem to grasp what was wrong about it.

Unfortunately, her teacher approved of the training. It was, as the shifty nelana said, “Excellent training for her mana control. Recreating the coinage exactly, down to the mana signature, is a fine art. The sort of thing that pushes the envelope. The Empire frequently hires out Painters with Komachi’s talents to better improve the security of their coinage. The more difficult the task, the more she’ll grow.”

“Machi’s skills are in high demand, yis,” his cat said smugly.

The shifty nelana had nodded, and that was the end of that. Komachi would hear no more on it.

Zahif continued his slow march toward Sam. “You have learned what you require to begin your journey, Sam. All that you need now is a little…spark!”

As he spoke, Zahif lunged forward faster than thought. Two leading fingers trailed golden lightning through the air as they dove straight for Sam’s heart.

He wasn’t afraid, though it was a little unsettling to know that if Zahif wanted him dead, Sam probably would be before he understood what was going on.

The resulting thunderclap shook the walls of the training room, causing all the magic dampening sigils to pulse a deep cobalt blue.

The moment Zahif’s fingers touched Sam’s sternum, he felt his entire body catch fire. Sam was blasted back with the impact, but even before Zahif could catch him, Komachi erected a net of paint.

Sam collapsed onto the netting. Komachi waved a paw around and the netting gently deposited him to the ground.

Zahif looked appraisingly at Komachi. “Perhaps you are the one I should teach my style to next,” he joked.

Komachi rolled onto her back and kicked her furry feet. “I already got muh Bunny Kick style!”

For the first time, Sam saw the skill Zahif had been teaching him. This Worldshard didn’t offer it to him through a level up, a quest or an achievement. This had been awarded through blood, sweat, and a guiding hand.

Zahif made it clear to him that he was taught martial arts through grit and hard work. His part was only to provide the spark. If Sam did not comprehend enough, then the flashy display would have done nothing.

You have unlocked [Eight Trigrams: Dreadfang Style].

(Asuran Monk Skill) (E-Class)

(☆ Primitive)

Throughout his decades of life, Zahif has ventured to every corner of the Shard and even to realms beyond. Upon viewing your skill with such colossal weapons, the young boy that would grow into a master decided to make do with just the weapons he was born with. Incorporating styles from the famed Wuukuu Dancers of the Einriku Isles to the brutal efficiency of the Hrun Dynasty warriors, Zahif’s personal [Eight Trigrams: Dreadfang Style] is said to be without peer. He has taught this style to only three living souls, though none have mastered it. This is his grandest gift for you. A gift without equal, priceless beyond measure. Grants a miniscule bonus to the effects of Strength, Dexterity, Vigor, and Awareness when using [Eight Trigrams: Dreadfang Style].

Sam grinned. He felt deeply honored to learn Zahif’s famed fighting style. While he picked it up at merely Primitive rarity, [Eight Trigrams: Dreadfang Style] reached the impressive height of E-Class.

He found it shocking that it was considered an Asuran Monk skill, rather than personal, Swordsman or something else entirely.

Is that a unique facet to this Worldshard? Sam wondered.

If that was achievable in Shardrune Il’dran, then the possibilities were limitless.

Maybe Komachi could learn skills and magic from other spellcasters. He might be able to pick up new techniques from future Islegardians he met. Warriors and fighters who were trained against monsters, rather than those who practiced Earth’s medieval swordsmanship against human opponents.

He was more optimistic than ever about the future.

Sam’s good mood persisted through the rest of the day. Even when he was awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of the monster incursion alarms in the city, Sam felt full of hope.

Zahif met him out in the halls. “I have a task for you, Sam.”

Looking around as the other members of the Scarlet Lotus readied themselves for combat, Sam raised a questioning brow at his teacher. “What is it?”

“I would like it if you only used the style I have taught you to fight these monsters,” Zahif told him. He placed a hand on Sam’s biceps and raised his other hand to forestall his outburst. “I know you have other skills to improve, but this will be an important test. More to the point, it will strike fear in the hearts of the creatures that assault our dear home.”

Sam frowned. “You’re not coming?”

Zahif shook his head. “Monsara was not joking when she said I am forbidden to use my hands and feet without express permission from the Imperial Court. And while I am sure our little stinky kitty could forge such a document, I feel it would be far better for you to go in my stead.”

Komachi was already attempting a forgery.

Sam pulled the parchment away from her. “No, Komachi.”

She grumbled.

“Will you do this for me?” Zahif asked. The look of hope mingled with unease was what sealed Sam’s fate.

The damn kid had picked that look up from Komachi. It worked every time. It didn’t matter that he could have been Sam’s great-great-grandfather. He was still that little stowaway on the Wavedancer to Sam. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a quest popped up.