As the warm sun began to rise, the gentle sunlight poured through the bars into Yami’s room. Yami rolled over and tried to sleep a little longer, but was soon interrupted by Muhai’s pounding.

“Get up! You have training to do!”

Yami jolted up and tried to open the door, but felt Muhai’s body blocking the door.

“C’mon! You have 30 seconds!”

Yami pushed against the door, but felt no slack.

“I’ll have to get some speed if I don’t want to raise suspicion.”

Yami walked to the opposite side of the room and placed one foot against the wall. Taking a deep breath, Yami kicked himself off of the wall at the door, slamming it open and breaking the chains that had held him in. Muhai was nowhere to be seen. Rubbing his shoulder, Yami walked to the dojo where Muhai seemed to spend most of his time. As Yami suspected, Muhai sat polishing a sword and did not look up to speak with Yami.

“Go bring me one ton of stone from the top of the mountain. You have three hours.”

Yami’s stomach grumbled as if in protest from not having breakfast, yet Yami ignored it and ran out of the room. Trodding in the snow towards the summit of the mountain, Yami reached the end of the trail. As he looked up towards the top, Yami noticed he still had at least 100 feet to go. Taking a deep breath, Yami began to climb up the steep incline, having to paw himself through the snow, occasionally causing him to slip and nearly fall. As Yami pulled himself up one last time, he saw that he had finally reached the summit. Despite the mountains appearance from farther down, the mountain had no point. Instead, it had a plateau at the top, which had many jagged rocks sticking up from the ground like stalagmites. Yami walked up to one and broke off a chunk from the tip of the odd rock.

“It’s… very light! I’ll need hundreds of these, if not thousands!”

Tossing the tip of the rock towards the dojo also showed Yami how far he would have to carry everything. Gulping, Yami looked down at his watch to see that he had already lost a half an hour scaling the mountain.

“There’s no way I’ll be able to carry that many rocks down and come back up for me within that much time… What am I supposed to do here?”

Yami continued to break apart the rock in front of him by ripping it with his hands.

“What’s worse, if I can’t do this… I’ll have to fight for my life against that guy?!”

Yami clenched his hand tightly in frustration. As he did so, the rock in his palm seemingly disappeared. As Yami realized this, he opened his palm to see a fine, gray powder scatter into the wind. Yami clenched his fists once again.

“I really have my back against the wall on this one, so this better work!”

Muhai walked out of the dojo rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, it’s been three hours. I wonder how I should kill this little twerp… What’s this?”

Through the dense blizzard, a silhouette appeared within the snowfall. It was Yami.

“Well? Where’s the stone?”

Yami grinned and raised his arms in the air.

“Don’t you see it? It’s all right here! If you want some, it’ll be all over the ground, soon enough.”

Muhai sternly stared at Yami.

“It seems you’ve come one step closer to understanding the sword. What approach did you take to do this?”

Yami held up his fist, which was covered by a blood-stained grey powder at the knuckles.

“I pulverized the rocks with my punches, then spread the powder with the palm of my hand.”

Muhai walked to the chopped tree that Yami had brought the day prior and picked up a log with one hand.

“Alright. The next lesson starts now.”

Muhai launched the log at Yami as if he were throwing a javelin. Remembering yesterday, Yami flattened his hand and attempted to slice through the log, but the force was too great, causing his arm to fling back and send Yami flying backwards to the ground. Picking himself up, Yami glanced up to see another log already making its way towards him. Yami swing his fist at it, but this time he broke his index and middle fingers. Hardly having any time to recover from the pain, Yami prepared for the next log, which as he had anticipated, had already began to target him.

“My punch seemed to work better the my slice, but my fingers don’t have the shock absorbance to withstand the blow…”

As the log neared Yami, he took a deep breath and followed it with his eyes. As it fell within a foot of hitting his chest, Yami pushed the bottom of it upwards with the palm of his right hand, allowing him to successfully evade it by having it go over his head. Gasping for air, Yami saw the next one coming.

“You aren’t allowed to run away!”

Yami knew full well what Muhai meant - he was not permitted to evade. Slowing his breathing down, Yami got in the same stance he was in for his punch, but this time flattened his palm as if he were slicing as well. As the log approached him, he drove the bottom part of his palm into the log, successfully splitting it in two.

“There we go!”

Muhai gave Yami no time for success as another log flew. Yami repeated the palm strikes as he split every log into two seperate pieces. As Yami prepared for another log, he gasped in relief as he saw there was no more left to be thrown at him. Falling onto a knee in exhaustion, Yami panted for air as he alligined his broken fingers and tied them together with twine he had collected from a tree. Muhai approached Yami.

“Come in. You can get some food.”

Yami followed Muhai into the warmth. Sitting himself on a mat in the dojo, Yami inspected his hands. They were bleeding and were also frostbitten. Yami paused as he heard Muhai enter the room. Muhai set a tray in front of Yami that had a bowl of steaming water with a single piece of pork in it, as well as rubbing alcohol and bandages on the side of the tray.

“Eat up, and patch yourself up while you’re at it.”

Yami did not have to be told twice. Yami seemingly shoved the soup into his stomach. As the soup nourished Yami, he began to wash his wounds and bandage them accordingly. As Yami set the supplies back onto the tray, Muhai stood up and too it from him.

“That’s all for today. Go straight to bed.”

Yami followed his orders and sat himself in the concrete chamber. Hearing chains click behind him, he knew that there was no way for him to escape for the remainder of the night.

“I gotta piss…”

“Put her out Yami!”

Yami sat up in a cold sweat as Muhai pounded on the door.

“Let’s go!”

Yami performed the same feat as the day before, practically bursting out of the door. Muhai grabbed Yami by the arm and pulled him into the dojo and threw him across the room. Picking himself up, Yami dusted himself off. Muhai withdrew a large wooden rod, similar to that of the one Yami had sliced.

“Block.”

Muhai seemingly appeared from the other side of the room to directly in front of Yami and swung the large rod directly at Yami. Unprepared, Yami took a direct blow to the shoulder, then the side, then his stomach.

“If you don’t block, you will fail.”

Yami held his stomach in pain and looked up to see the rod come down on him again. Yami swung his left arm up and deflected the blow with the side of his forearm. Trying to recover still, Yami swung his right arm up to block yet another blow from Muhai. Yami kicked himself up off the ground and shook his arms to get circulation going through them. Muhai continued his flurry of blows, which Yami successfully fended off one at a time. Beginning to feel overwhelmed, Yami looked for the perfect opportunity to strike. As Muhai thrust the rod at Yami once more, Yami struck the tip with the bottom of his palm, causing the rod to split in half. Panting, Yami fell backwards onto the ground. Muhai threw the rod to the side of the room and spun around to walk out of the room.

“You have one day to rest. Your final test begins tomorrow. Be thankful I’m being lenient with you.”

Yami looked down at his arms.

“Shit, I’m pretty sure the bones are shattered. I have no idea how to fix this within a day!”

Gasping after a quick thought, Yami ran into the hallway, chasing down Muhai.

“Sir!”

Muhai stopped in the middle of the hallway, but did not turn around. After a moment, he finally responded.

“What is it?”

“May I go somewhere, Sir?”

“Yes, but if you attempt to run away, you better hope you’re faster than me.”

“Understood.”

Yami bolted out of the dojo and down the mountain. As he ran, sharp stabs of pain struck him throughout his arms. After miles of running, Yami sighed in relief as he reached his destination. Knocking on the door with his forehead, Make opened it.

“Yami? What’re you doing here already?”

Yami raised his limp arm.

“Do you have anything that can heal me in one night?”

“Seriously... You leave only three days ago, and you come back like this?”

“Yeah, sorry. On the bright side, the gear you made for me is doing great! It is probably the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

“Speaking of which, where are your blades?”

“My teacher confiscated them for the time being.”

As Make inspected his arms, she sighed.

“I do know of one remedy that could work, but the plants needed for it are out of season, so that’s out of the window. I only know of one other that could work, but for that…”

Yami looked at Make with intrigue.

“Well?”

“To do it, I’d need to put it directly on your bones, and I don’t have anything to knock you out.”

Yami gulped.

“Are you sure it will work?”

She nodded.

“In that case…”

Yami reached across the table and pulled out a large knife.

“I’m ready when you are.”

Yami laid on top of the kitchen table with his shirt off. Make entered the room and sat a bowl of green paste next to him.

“Yami, this is your last chance to back off…”

Yami shook his head.

“No, I’ve come to far. Let’s do this.”

Make placed a wooden piece in Yami’s mouth and withdrew the knife. Laying his arm flat on the table, Make quickly yet carefully made the first incision down Yami’s arm. Yami bit down on the wood in pain, and allowed a few screams to slip. Digging through his muscles, Make found his shattered bones and seemed to glue them back together with the green paste. After a few minutes of digging and glueing, Make withdrew her hands from Yami’s arm and washed out the wound with boiling water, causing Yami to tremble in even more pain. After confirming that the wound was clean, Make sewed Yami’s arm with a string presumably made at her house. She patted Yami on the chest.

“You want a break, or should I get started on the next arm?”

Yami shook his head. Make took the wood out of his mouth to allow him to speak. Gasping for breath, Yami tried to form a sentence.

“Just… finish… it!”

Placing the wood back in his mouth, Make cracked her knuckle and began to repeat the process on Yami’s other arm.

Yami drank from a glass bottle as Make cleaned up the blood from the table and floor.

“Thanks, Make. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Be careful, though, because you don’t want to have to do that again.”

“Right.”

Looking outside, Yami saw that the moon was nearing the horizon.

“Sorry Make, but I have to go. Once I’m done training, you’ll be the first person I see, alright?”

Make nodded.

“I’ll be here!”

Yami slipped on his shirt and bolted out of the house. Sprinting towards the mountain, Yami raced against the sun. Ass he clambered up the trail and bolted into the dojo, Muhai greeted him.

“So, you finally came back. You’ve been gone quite a while, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m ready for my final test.”

Muhai pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“You know, something about you has put me off ever since you and that demon came here, and last night I figured it out. You came here to learn how to wield a sword, yet didn’t bring one? Then I recalled that you only had a couple of knives.”

Muhai tossed Yami’s knives at him.

“Looking at them, I discovered that the way they were created indicates that they were made by none other than the witch. So that leads me to believe that you are a demon yourself.”

“And what if I am?”

“Show me your sword.”

Yami gripped his pocket knife and it grew into his sword.

“As I thought. Give me it.”

Yami handed his sword to Muhai. Muhai inspected it, then, without warning, charged at Yami.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“This is your final test, Yami. Kill me, or I will kill you.”