Curses and Will Chapter 23: Chapter 2: The Blades That Echo

Read chapter 23 of Curses and Will by Simply No One on NovelPedia.

Every blow exchanged with my master felt like a long, untold story finally being lifted out of my chest, the first time since losing my parents that fighting had felt like release instead of survival. A strange, fierce peace settled over me, the kind that only seems to live inside genuine combat. With every strike, goosebumps ran across my skin, my heart racing the way it does in a nightmare you somehow don't want to wake from. Even Kagenken seemed caught in the same current. He stopped holding back somewhere along the way, each of his strikes landing like a mountain coming down on me, and yet somehow each one also felt like a boulder lifting off my soul at the same time. After a long stretch of exchanges, exhaustion finally caught up with me mid-fight. I wanted to keep going, my body simply refused to cooperate any further. Kagenken's hands glowed with a soft blue light as he knelt and began healing the worst of what I'd taken, a spell similar enough to Jonathan's that it felt warm and familiar and strange all at once. I didn't notice the tears starting until they were already falling, rolling down my cheeks and dropping into the churned mud beneath us. I couldn't fully explain where they came from, maybe some buried feeling surfacing from beneath everything else, a memory of Jonathan rising unbidden. Despite the sorrow tangled up in it, something close to happiness moved through me too, like a weight had finally lifted off a part of my memory I hadn't realized was still that heavy. Jonathan's voice echoed somewhere in the back of my mind. Fight to feel. Kagenken studied my face, concern showing plainly. "What's wrong, kid. Did I push too hard? Should we stop?" I wiped at my eyes, my voice unsteady. "One more round." A genuine smile spread across his face then, different from anything I'd seen from him yet, energetic in a way that felt like it could make a person's whole spirit lift just from witnessing it. We settled back into our stances. "I'm done holding back," he warned, something close to a roar underneath the politeness of his tone. "Let's see how far you can actually go." A smirk found its way onto my own face in response. We rushed at each other again. He swung his stick with real force behind it this time, and though I stepped back in time, a small wound opened across my knuckles anyway. Instead of fear, something closer to excitement surged through me. I dashed forward first this time, aiming the dull edge of my sword at his neck. He shifted his stick just enough to blunt the strike, countering with a swing toward my forehead. I ducked, spun left, and struck for his neck again, but my sword was repelled before it landed. He laughed, clear amusement dancing behind his eyes, then struck my head lightly enough that it stung without doing real damage. He stepped back, explaining as he reset his stance. "This coating on my stick is called Yuta energy. It has three forms. Armor Yuta, Blast Yuta, and Reinforcement Yuta. Right now I'm using Armor on my body, Reinforcement on the weapon, both layered with a bit of healing magic so neither of us gets seriously hurt, though you'll still feel the full impact of every strike." Most of the explanation went over my head in the moment, but I understood the one piece that mattered. The goal was simple. Strike with everything I had. "Don't let your guard down just because you're talking," I shouted, already dashing toward him. I aimed for his knee. My sword was repelled again, and he slammed me into the ground hard enough to knock the air clean out of my lungs. Pain shot through me, but I refused to stay down. Something in my mind went blank after that, narrowing down to a single remaining thought. Land a hit. My body moved on instinct alone. Reinforcement Yuta, whatever it actually was, flowed through my blade without my consciously calling on it, reshaping the edge into something closer to a dual-bladed weapon. I dashed at him. He aimed above my head, expecting the obvious line. T