In the morning, Old Thane cooked up a hefty portion of porridge, serving up an almost bucketful to Azhar at the dinner table.

Azhar had slept in the cottage's guest room – the one that was meant to be for Old Thane and Aine's children – and he sat at the table with an excited energy. Li could see that the hinterlander was fully healed, his physical wounds taken care of by Li and his mental energy restored with a good night's sleep.

All for that energy to get beaten down again.

Though, Li did not actually know how Old Thane was going to train Azhar.

When Li had brought up the topic of training Azhar in close combat with Old Thane, the old man had rather gravely asked whether the ranger was truly driven and committed to improving his skills, that were he not fully willing to lay down his life, then the only training the old man knew would not work.

Li had said that Azhar was willing, and since then Old Thane had spent the day quiet and ruminating to himself in between weeding sessions in the fields, probably drawing up a way to build Azhar from the ground up as a formidable fighter.

"Lad!" said Old Thane to Azhar, slapping the hinterlander's back. "Eat your fill, and when you feel your stomach about to burst, eat even more. Grain is precious like gold for energy, and you will need much of it today for your training."

"You don't gotta tell me that." Azhar took in a spoonful of porridge. "I ain't gonna pass up food, old man."

Old Thane nodded in approval as he took a seat. His brows knit together in concern. "Good. Now, tell me lad, do you truly wish for my training? Would not a skilled ranger help you more?"

"He's got all that and even magic covered," said Azhar as he jutted his chin towards Li, speaking between chews. "Ya talk all the time bout' you brawled with giants in the north and punched demons in the face, but I ain't never seen ya really go at it. Kinda excited to see what the Bloodfist has to teach me."

"The Bloodfist, eh?" Old Thane smiled, his cloudy eyes flitting up as he recalled a sea of memories most likely drenched in violence. He shook his head once before speaking to Azhar. "They say a Djinn's wishes are best left unheeded. Are you willing to die for this, lad?"

It was a question of serious gravity entirely unfitting for the dinner table, but Azhar was unfazed. "Hells yeah. If I ain't getting' stronger, I'm gonna drop dead anyway. Don't matter whether that's now or by a monster's claw in the future cause' I'm too weak."

"Fitting words for you, young lad," Old Thane smiled, flashing a few chipped teeth. "Among you three little rascals, you were the one most like me. Willing to throw away your life, to treat it like a resource. Thus, I can tell you are suited for my training, for it will be the very same I went through."

"They had martial arts up in the Northwastes? Am I gonna learn some kinda secret northman winter fist?"

Old Thane laughed. "Not at all, lad. It is, how shall I put it, more a philosophy? Hah, my words fail me, for they were never my domain. Come, lad, eat up. We have work to do."

It ended up being that work was farming.

"You want me to what?" said Azhar as Old Thane led him to the fields. By now, the new batch of wheat had grown almost to maturation, their stalks tall and green, not yet golden.

"To weed the fields." Old Thane cocked his head. "My training is not free, lad, and this will be a good way to work up a sweat before we begin."

Azhar looked to Li, and Li shrugged, saying, "Old man's rules are his rules. You want his training, you follow them. Besides, it's just weeding. Simple enough that anyone, even you, can do it."

In a little over an hour, Azhar and Old Thane finished weeding. Old Thane generally guided Azhar through the fields, telling him which weeds to pluck out and what plants were to be left alone. All throughout this process, Zagan followed close behind, observing happenings on the field today instead of sleeping with his usual disinterested air.

Azhar jumped up and down beside the fields, warming his muscles up as he looked expectantly to Old Thane.

"How bout it', old man. Now that the farmin's done, we can get started now, yeah?"

Old Thane cracked his dirt-laced knuckles. "Patience, young lad. First, we cannot train here where prying eyes are much abound. Even now, I sense the errant farmer eyeing our golden crop."

Li knew that around the time the supernatural wheat grew, a few farmers on the outskirts of Riviera, real farmers, not like the ones that just owned land, checked out Li and Old Thane's farm in wonder.

"Should I drive them off?" said Li.

Old Thane shook his head. "No need, lad. Azhar, head first to the woods, right where the main road leads into it. I must prepare a few things."

"Got a stretch them creakin' bones?" Azhar nodded with a smile. "Aight, old man, I'll be waitin."

Old Thane watched as Azhar went out of sight, and the moment the ranger disappeared, the old man talked to Li.

"Lad, will that ant take care of this farm in our absence?"

Li nodded. "You bet it will."

"Wonderful, for else the farm would be left unattended," said Old Thane. "Demon!" he called out to Zagan.

Zagan trotted over to them, reddened eyes flashing.

"You're taking him with us?" said Li.

"Aye, lad. He has graciously agreed to offer his aid in this training, if it can be called that."

"I see." Li did not pry much further. He trusted the old man to do whatever he wanted.

"It may be selfishness of mine, but I have another request, lad."

"What is it?"

"The demon will grant me some strength such that I may fight. Should Azhar question me, will you take the burden upon yourself to explain? That it was your spell or elixir that restored my strength, albeit in a temporary manner?"

"Just that? Then of course. Not even sure Azhar would even question you. There are legitimately some elixirs that can probably buff your stats enough to compete with him."

"Aye, lad, but just to be safe." Old Thane smiled as he tread forwards to the Winterwoods. His smile seemed uncharacteristically youthful and wreathed with excitement, almost mischievous, and Li had the sneaking suspicion that the old man was not telling him the full story.

"You know, how exactly are you planning on training him?" said Li.

Old Thane told him, and Li now understood what to do.

"Let's go," said Li to the wyrm idling by his legs. "You seem to like watching fights, and this will be a long one."

___________________________

The wyrm cooed in excitement as she anticipated bloodshed this early in the morning.

Azhar and Old Thane stood in a clearing within the woods. Not too far in the woods, and because it was under broad daylight, Li took precautions to secure the perimeter, placing a few shadowflies to float around as a means of surveillance.

Li sat on a fallen log as he watched Azhar take a general fighting stance against Old Thane. Zagan sat on the other end of the log, and the wyrm, cowed by his presence, huddled close to Li's legs, though she did look out to watch the mounting combat tension arising between Azhar and Old Thane.

"Do you know how to fight, lad?" said Old Thane.

"Course' I can," replied Azhar.

"With your fists?"

"Know the basics. I can keep up in a tavern brawl, if that's what you're after."

"Excellent. Then you know just as much as I."

Azhar paused. "Huh? Ain't you gonna' teach me some techniques? Like movin' around, flashy footwork, strong punches, and all that?"

Old Thane laughed. "Nonsense, lad. You are right. In the Northwastes, where civilization grows thin, we learn no such combat art as the boxing and wrestling of the south. I've no sense of how to fight like how these southerners sway and move and jab.

But what I will teach you is how to fight, not how to dance. You will come to know what it means to fight to kill. To survive."

"Sounds like just my style." Azhar smiled as he raised his fist. "So? How's the fightin' like up north?"

"As I have said, words are not my domain." Old Thane clenched his fists. "And I can only teach how I was taught. And I learned by fighting."

"Now I'm really likin' this trainin' of yours, old man." Azhar cocked his head, looking at Old Thane with a little worry. "But ya know, ain't bout' to rain on yer day, but even with one arm…,"

Old Thane smiled. "You worry you will hurt me, lad? You are right. I've no illusions of how age has stolen my strength. Though I can beat to death the common man, an adventurer such as yourself is a different matter. Thus, with Li's help, I have restored some of my strength such that I may battle oncemore."

"Took a few elixirs before ya got here? Was that why ya needed time to prepare?"

"It matters not the how when you face an enemy, just that you must match and overwhelm their strength." Old Thane nodded towards Li, and Li realized he was nodding at Zagan.

Zagan narrowed his eyes, and Li could sense a significant amount of mana surging from the demon. The wyrm felt this, and she froze, petrified by the chaotic and destructive aura imbued within the demon's magical aura.

"Lad," said Old Thane. "I must apologize to you now. You will be hard-pressed. You will wish to die. But I have faith that you will persevere. You will learn."

"Getting' mighty creepy all of a sudden, old man," said Azhar as he cocked his head. "Besides, I already told ya I'm ready to die for this."

Li blinked.

Old Thane wasn't well, old anymore.

His hunched posture straightened out. His frame, already wide and powerfully built, became even thicker, his shoulders broadening. Though he already had a good amount of muscle leftover from a lifetime of combat and days of manual labor, it was exactly that: leftover muscle.

The rest that had faded away with the years and a life of peace began coming back. Muscle started to grow everywhere, and Old Thane almost looked like he was expanding outwards. He usually wore loose fitting shirts and pants, and Li had always thought this was because he had not been able to afford good clothes, but he realized now that there was a time that the old man had fit in them.

In fact, Old Thane's body strained against his clothes, almost tearing them. A network of bulging veins criss-crossed his forearms, and it was very apparent now that his hands, wide and hardened like calluses and scar tissue to be like bricks, had not gotten to that point from picking weeds, but instead by cracking skulls.

But though Old Thane's body changed so drastically, where he changed the most was his face. His wrinkles had all faded away. Loose, aged skin around his jaw tightened up, revealing a razor edge of a thickset square jaw perfectly built for absorbing impacts. His beard and hair had grown immensely, connecting together to frame his face with what looked almost like a mane of snowy white hair full of vigor, not age.

His expression twisted into a wide smile, baring teeth that were whole and sharp almost like those of a wolf. His eyes were still cloudy, still blind, but they were now wide with energy. There was not a single hint of patience or gentleness on that face.

It was pure, unbridled bloodlust.

Old Thane stepped towards Azhar, his arms hanging slightly bent at the sides because of the sheer width of his back muscles. Without a hunched back and muscle to fill out his frame, he towered over Azhar, even moreso than Launcelot did, and with that white mane, he looked almost like a lion, more beast than man.

"The hell kinda elixir did you drink, old man?" said Azhar, visibly shocked.

Old Thane closed the distance between himself and Azhar in an instant and loosed a massive haymaker at the hinterlander.

Azhar reflexively ducked under the blow, letting a fist the size of his head whistle past him.

"No heads up, old man?" said Azhar, still joking, but now a hint of nervousness invaded his voice.

Old Thane used his other arm to reach down and grab Azhar by the shoulder. With a roar, he ragdolled the ranger, picking him up and tossing him straight into a tree like he was throwing a pebble.

Azhar coughed as his back slammed against the tree, the trunk cracking at the impact.

"You talk too much," said Old Thane. Or rather, this was no longer fully Old Thane. It was not just his body that had turned back the clock – his mind had reverted too, back when people called him the Bloodfist. His voice was full of strength, echoing out with a low rumble, like he was permanently growling. "You wanted the Bloodfist? You have him. You wanted your fight? You have it."

Old Thane took a step forwards and narrowed his eyes, his ears twitching as he heard a rasp in Azhar's breathing.

"Broken ribs and a pierced lung. Already dying. And you wished to learn how to fight? Pathetic." Old Thane turned to Li with a nod.

Li waved his hand and healed Azhar fully.

Azhar stood up as his internal damage healed, his hand clutching at his side. "The hell happened to you, old man?"

Old Thane charged forwards and unleashed a massive punch. Azhar, now more aware, rolled under it, getting behind Old Thane. Old Thane's punch collided with the tree trunk where Azhar had rested on, blasting it apart entirely in a shower of splinters.

"Shut your mouth, boy" said Old Thane as he turned to Azhar. "And fight."

"This is all part of the training," called out Li to Azhar in a calm, casual and explanatory tone. "When you go down, so long as you don't straight up die, I'll heal you. Eventually, the old man said to me, you'll learn."