Special Chapter: A High Wall

(Beginning of Volume#1: "First Step into the New World")

Pain, loneliness, and despair.

Just one of these emotions was almost unbearable, but he was experiencing all three at once.

Within an arena made of hard cushions in a branch of the Sky Dragon Dojo, many people sat around witnessing a fight but no one dared to make a sound. The loudest noise was his own breathing. His rib must have been cracked as every breath he took brought pain.

This fight had no referee. The winner was the last man standing. Sila saw a light bulb in the ceiling. The taste of blood in his mouth had helped to clear his blurry consciousness.

Sila slowly stood up with no one interrupting. His opponent was wearing white sparring clothes now stained with blood, not so different from his own brown sparring clothes. However, all the blood belonged to him and him alone.

Montra still hadn’t received any harm.

Montra. This was an uncommon name. But Sila thought it suited very well to this man. Be it intelligence, charm, fighting or overall ability, Montra was blessed with all of them as if possessing some magic.

T/N: ‘Montra’ means ‘magic’ or ‘spell’ in Thai.

Under normal circumstances, Sila would have given up. However, what was at stake today was not his own pride. It was something much more important. The stakes were his teacher’s whereabouts and well-being.

“Where is my teacher?” Sila asked painfully.

Montra didn’t answer. “Get serious, or don't expect me to tell you anything.”

Sila hurriedly moved three steps closer to Montra, entering the range where his attack could reach. He twisted his waist, concentrating all the strength he had into his fist.

Montra was calm. He moved a half-step forward. His right arm was lifted vertically, while his left was used to easily swipe Sila’s attack aside.

The sound of an attack connecting echoed throughout the arena. Sila’s body was thrown into a cushion. His skin was starting to turn dark brown due to the injuries he had taken.

Montra walked closer. “Why are you still not using your dojo’s martial arts?”

Sila tried to lessen the pain by relaxing his muscles. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to use them, but he couldn’t. Although he had been raised in a dojo, even selected as the main disciple, his teacher had never once taught him any martial arts. He could only perform sloppy martial arts that he had mimicked from the others he fought.

All his childhood, Sila had learned nothing but muscle-building and fight. His life mostly consisted of two things: his teacher and his dojo.

Both were taken away from Sila by the very opponent in front of him.

“Hahh!” Sila tried to kick Montra’s left ankle. However, Montra casually lifted his foot up. Then, Sila exerted force into his leg to sweep the floor, giving Montra no choice but to jump.

Sila then used his hand as spring, pushing himself into the air and kicked Montra as he was in mid-air, causing him to fly away.

Montra neatly landed on a cushion. His eyes flashed with curiosity. “Is that your dojo’s martial arts?”

“That’s my own move, you bastard!”

“Is that so? If you don’t intend to use them, then be ready to never use them again.”

Finished talking, Montra jumped towards Sila for the first time. He appeared in front of Sila with only one move. His foot stomped on a cushion, tearing it off.

Sila hurriedly punched at Montra’s waist. However, Montra moved his elbow down to counter. The sound of bones fracturing could be heard from Sila's right fist.

Moreover, Montra's right fist punched at Sila’s abdomen, near his liver. Sila felt like he was hit by a metal hammer. He felt pain all over; his body felt numb.

He almost wanted to pass out. However, the pain had kept him from doing so. He was experiencing every cruel moment. His eyes wandering without focus. He was alone. No one was standing by his side. His hope was chipping away as the attacks didn't stop coming. The longer this dragged on, the more his fatigue and pain multiplied. The taste and smell of his own blood almost causing him to vomit.

Sila stood staggering. In front of him was a high wall, making it impossible for him to see what was ahead.

Most people would give up here.

Nevertheless, Sila didn’t. No matter how high of a wall it was, what he had to do was the same. He just had to climb over it.

Sila used his last ounces of energy to weakly grab Montra’s collar.

Montra’s palm rotated like a whip. He grabbed Sila’s hand and twisted it so that a bone in Sila’s wrist fractured. He was expecting Sila to stumble onto the floor in agony.

Yet, things didn’t go that way. Instead, Sila abandoned his left hand and used his broken right fist to punch Montra’s face with all his strength. The impact was enough to push Montra two meters away.

‘Starting with one punch,’ thought Sila while he readied himself for another round. Montra jumped toward him again, like he was a merciless, violent dragon.

At the time, Sila still wasn’t aware that this fight would be the one that would overturn his life forever.