Ollowyn pushed the sliding door open and entered the anteroom of the sanctum. Nervous he sat down and laid his bamboo sword in front of him ceremonially.

Master Iordai did not let him wait for long. The old little man stepped out of the sanctum and sat down in front of Ollowyn. He looked older. Almost frail. His eyes had a friendly and amused charm though.

“Finally. I have waited a long time for you to reach me.” He smiled. “Hereby I declare you the fifth master of the Iordai Fighting School.”

Ollowyn accepted a bundle of black cloth. It was very much heavier than he had expected. He eyed the great master curiously.

“You might not remember this. The last time one of the other masters wore this armor was the day you got poisoned. Everyone of them owns one.” The old man smiled proudly. “But this is not the only thing you will receive from me today.”

He reached beside himself and presented Ollowyn a sword. “It isn’t special, or anything. A simple steel sword, forged by a decent blacksmith.”

Ollowyn drew the blade from its sheath and looked at his own eyes in the blade’s reflection. It was good and beautiful steel, but the handle looked quite used to him.

“I thought it would be appropriate for you to carry Thasun’s old sword.” The old man spoke sorrowfully. “He used to call it Silver Swallow.”

A tear crept down Ollowyn’s cheek before it impacted the cold steel. He missed Thasun. “Thank you...” He paused for a second. “Master?”

“Can I search for him?” Ollowyn looked at him pathetically. His eyes were determined.

“He is dead Ollowyn. You will not find him, even if you search your whole life. The city was burnt down and worse and nobody had even heard of Thasun ever since then. Even if they captured him for some reason… Such a journey is just too dangerous for you.” Ritto Iordai looked tired. He sat down a little closer and reached for Ollowyn’s shoulder. “Zenshin will sooner or later go eastwards to expand. and rebuild Sandrei. It will be very likely that you will be there too. Don't worry about it for now.”

The boy nodded. “Alright.”

Then the old master stood up, drawing his own sword. He ordered him to follow and entered the sanctum through another door. It was a very simple, squared room with large log in the center that acted as a supporting pillar. Aside from that, a simple sleeping spot and a few wooden weapons the room was completely empty. “Now show me what you have learned.”

Ollowyn drew Silver Swallow and pressed the attack. The “duel” was in no way even remotely fair. The old master parried every single strike not only with playful innocence, wherever the blades met the power of Ollowyn was caught and neutralized and both weapons remained undamaged.

It was unbelievable how this old man was able to read through his movement so easily. Quickly Ollowyn realised the huge mountain of a difference in skill. He stepped back a few steps and eyed his opponent again.

Ritto Iordai was small. Ollowyn was almost half a meter bigger, but it did not feel like that at all. It was as if he was looking at a large stone, behind which a skyhigh wave was threatening to smash him to pieces at any given moment. If it decided to it would crush him without him being able to even move against it.

Goosebumps ran all over his body and Ollowyn withdrew Silver Swallow back into her sheath. In this fight he would have to go beyond anything he had shown before. More than the techniques of the old master. He grabbed the sheath in his left, holding it to his hipp. His stance lowered.

The old man smiled in anticipation. It was only for a brief second but Ollowyn felt the aura change. His body reacted, be began to sweat heavily and the pressure was slowly overwhelming him. Ollowyn growled loudly and grabbed the hilt of his sword with his right.

Then he spoke: “Thasun Style: Shin-sin. Sun-sun!”

Ollowyn used the movement of the Korduí technique to dash forward slightly. He ripped Silver Swallow out of her hull, sending a sharp and quick hit horizontally towards the head of the great master. Without waiting for results, Ollowyn shot past the old man with the demon hunt technique to get behind him.

Arriving there, he immediately shot another attack at the back of the great master. It was parried skillfully. Ollowyn used all his power to push himself away further with his strike and pushing his opponents blade aside. Immediately he used the newly gained opening and struck with a sharp Zenzen from the newfound distance.

Iordai’s eyes shot wide open, before he… evaded. Ollowyn smiled. At least something. The old man had not moved a single step before that.

“Impressive. You are combining the techniques pretty well already. It seems you already understood the baseline of the 128 moonflower style.” The old man sheathed his sword and put it aside. Then he picked up a bamboo sword. It was reinforced by cloth to soften it’s impact further.

“128 moon flowers?” Ollowyn asked curiously.

“Yes. This technique combines the first three styles of the Iordai Fighting School. Korduí. Zenzen. Demon Hunt. The first step is gaining control of Korduí to a better degree.” Iordai’s silhouette disappeared almost and reappeared on another location near him, before disappearing again. Even Ollowyn had a lot of trouble just following his movement.

The old man stopped before he continued his explanations. “For larger distances near you, we use the dash from the Demon Hunt style.” He quickly demonstrated the same, abnormal speed with twice, sometimes three times the distance. That such an old man was able to move this way… It was insane.

“To go on the offence, we use Zenzen, whenever the target is too far away and we feel that a long range attack is more efficient than closing the distance. But we not only use it for far reaching slashes, also for short stabs and hits. The fast and quick attacks the Demon Hunt Style provides we use for close quarter combat.” The old man raised his bamboo sword. “Defend yourself. Watch and learn.”

“One.” He said sagely and dashed forward. His aura washed over Ollowyn like a tsunami. Immediately he raised his own blade in defense to block the attack. Then the bamboo sword slipped past his guard and clashed with his face. How this attack could possibly go through with such speed… was unimaginably for him.

But the old man did not let Ollowyn catch much breath. “Two.”

Ollowyn retaliated immediately with a far reaching Zenzen strike, and used his the Korduí style to counteract the speed. But his abilities were in no way even to those of the great master. Heavy hits impacted on his right and left shoulder respectively.

“Four.”

Ollowyn jumped backwards, whirling around his blade wildly to provoke easy to discern attacks. But while he was still in the air, he was hit four times on his legs.

“Eight.” The old man said, mercilessly.

Thasun waited patiently to be hit in order to retaliate. Two strikes pushed his blade upwards with easy while six more forced him to his knee. It was really starting to hurt.

How did the old man do this?? He was executing really forceful attacks with a wooden stick against heavy steel and was dominating the encounter? The strong and fierce aura Ollowyn constantly felt did not help things. He was starting to shiver in fear. Sixteen more attacks made him drop his sword and made him use balance as well.

Thrown backwards, he rolled over and came to his feet on instinct immediately. He raised his arms in a last ditch defensive effort.

“Thirty-two.” The old man now completely vanished out of his field of vision. The only thing he could feel was the pain where the trainingsword impacted his body. Ollowyn remained standing. He was lucky that this bamboo sword was wrapped and padded properly. He was breathing heavily when the old man finished and looked up.

The fear he felt when the old man eyed him out of cold eyes and spoke “Sixty-Four” was something he had never experienced before.

Sharp pain impacted his defensive posture faster than he ever experienced before. His arms inevitably fell down, presenting his upper body. The hits there let him tumble against the wooden wall of the sanctum. His gaze was getting dizzy and Ollowyn had to force his eyes open to keep the old master in sight.

Ritto Iordai felt good. Too good. He knew this feeling of power that one was surging towards whenever a new level was approaching rapidly. This would be the fourth time in his life. Thasun had only reached the second before he had left to Sandrei six years ago.

If he could break through… he would be able to battle an Elb in a fair fight. On even terms. The boy had slumped after taking a few too many hits. He had done better than Iordai had expected. A true Valurén. It was really about time to speak to him about it.

But first he wanted to break through. He gathered all his energy and discarded his bamboo sword before he dashed towards the solid log that represented the centerpiece of the sanctum.

128. All the gathered energy flowed out of his body as he moved with deadly abandon. His hands grew numb from the countless punches he threw at the log in various motions. It was a dance of sorts. A rush of power lead him from one movement to the next, straining his body further and further. It did not even take four seconds before his attack had finished.

His old hands were bleeding. And his bones screamed in agony. But he felt it. The new rank, rapidly approaching. His newly received wounds, eyes and mouth started glowing outwards in a radiant white light and newfound energy surged through his old body. He exhaled.

256. He saw the log splintering alongside the wooden walls, hardly noticing his own attacks.

Halfway through he noticed that something had went terribly wrong. In a wild coughing fit he collapsed to the floor and blood sprayed over the polished wood.

He began toppling over and started to lose consciousness. In a last effort he managed to sit against the remainder of the large log. Apparently he had failed to break through for the first time. The pain somehow felt familiar. Odd.

It was the same kind of pain he had felt when he had used the Nepheniel on the boy. Had he used up too much energy back then? Had he injured himself? It would hardly surprise him. The boy had been dead. He eyed the boy that was trying to get on his feet with a very worried expression.

“Sit down boy. I’m alright. Nothing wrong, only overdid it a tiny bit.” He lied, and it seemed to be working. The boy looked a lot less worried immediately. “You did well defending. Better than I expected. You understand the 128 Moonflower Style now?”

Ollowyn nodded. Even beat up and dead tired he could still feel the immense aura the old master gave off. He was not worried for him. He would only start to do so, when he could not feel that any longer.

Before the tiny old man had used the technique, Ollowyn had been able to feel even more than just that. A power that was really, really frightening. Maybe the old master had not even used all his power? “I understand it. But it will be difficult to learn.”

Ollowyn brought his knees below his body and bowed towards the legendary swordsman.

“I thank the great master Iordai for this lesson!”

The old man laughed dryly. “Haha. Ha.” Then he coughed heavily again, before he continued. “You are a master now, you have to improve all by yourself. Like we all do. Nobody will be able to teach you. You will make for an impressive Valurén one day.”

Ollowyn frowned. He had no idea what Iordai was talking about. “What is a Valurén?”

Lightning cracked through the sky in the distance and the following thunder brought rain. The mood in the room was growing darker. It did not help that the aura that the old man was radiating was growing in power. Ollowyn had to swallow.

Ritto Iordai gazed into the distance before he started to explain. “The Valurén family was a obliterated ruling family in Valuan. Hundreds of years ago the Thersin had planned and executed a huge coup against the rulers with the help of a few neighbouring countries. It had not been a simple assassination or a reach for power, where a family was thrown into the dungeons never to be heard of again. It was a massacre. Thousands had died.”

Ollowyn listened closely. “For the Valurén owned a artefact, that was bound to their own bloodline. Their blood was not really of large superiority compared to other humans, but the artefact granted power only to them. Even a young, inexperienced ruler could be transformed in a heartbeat and step up to be an existence that was capable of waging war on a grand scale all by himself. Able to obliterate entire armies single handedly. Of course the Thersin family, that wanted to rule in their stead, could not let any of them stay alive. They killed every single family member of the Valurén bloodline. Every wife. Every child. They killed young, innocent girls that had only been suspected to have had contact to someone with unnaturally white hair. Everyone that was said to have supported the former rulers bloodline in any way was immediately chained to slavery or killed on the spot.”

Iordai looked at Ollowyn. “All members of the Valurén family stand out with one distinct feature. Silver-white hair.” The boy had to swallow. “Was this the reason why I was poisoned that night?”

The old master nodded. “But that isn't all. This is very likely also the reason why you were left in the woods and probably responsible for the fact that you will never know your mother and father. Why they did not kill you after you have been born I don’t know. But Valuan wants your death for sure.”

Ollowyn clenched his fist. It made him angry. “Why?? They want me dead, only because I could use a artefact that they have? Why do they not just destroy it? Instead of attacking us?!” It was the first time in his life that Ollowyn had felt true anger towards someone else. About something that he had not even know about before. This was also the reason why he had to grow up away from his real mother. He felt conflicted and sad.

“The Sword of Ending is indestructible. According to legends it will die with the bloodline of the Valurén and currently it is stuck in a large boulder in Antalia, the capital city of Valuan. Only a true Valurén could pull it out. The rock itself is protected by the power of the sword.” The old man grinned. “You could pull it out once you awaken.”

Ollowyn’s rage subsided and curiosity took its place. A magical sword? How would it look like? If he would have it he could go and search for Thasun. Or search for whoever murdered him. “Awaken?” He asked curiously.

“All members of the Valurén bloodline awaken when they reach maturity. I don’t know exactly when, but legends speak of sixteen or eighteen years. I wouldn’t know anything about that though.” He shrugged. “When your brown eyes change color, you will know, Ollowyn.”

The old man’s aura expanded into the whole room. “I KNEW, that you are going to be special, when Thasun brought you to us. How wild you were. The story of a seven year old kid using a Zenzen strike on his first try. We all knew you had talent. You will be a good warrior. But I have to admit, I did not keep you for talent alone. A Valurén is a threat to Valuan and Zenshin will never go to war with them unless they get provoked into it.”

Ollowyn frowned. “Is that the reason why Thasun had taken me to you? So you can start a war?”

The old man rose from his position and went to grab Silver-Swallow before he stepped towards Ollowyn. He stared down at him. Cold. “No. Thasun did love you. More than any other student he ever had. Never forget that. I will honor his memory, by doing right by you!”

Ollowyn spotted a tear in the eyes of the old man, and he started to tear up as well. “You will be my heir. You will rule the Valley of Ending and fight for Zenshin in our name. Maybe even more than that. Who knows what the future might bring. For now you are no king. No lord.”

He pressed Thasun’s old sword into Ollowyn’s hand. Then he helped him up.

“You are my student. Go train. You should not think about more than that for now.” Then he hugged Ollowyn around the waist and sent him on his way.

Ollowyn cried on his way back to his shed.

And he cried long after falling asleep on the soft sheets while listening to the soft rain outside….