It was approximately six in the morning. Shura was kneeling down in the sand with a large object stabbed into the ground in front him. He was mediating calmly in front of the new weapon he purchased from the local blacksmith. The air was filled with the smell of salt as the breeze danced along the land. The waves and sand responded in kind, shifting ever so suddenly. He was taking long breaths, focusing on the weapon in front of him. This was one of the Ranzu traditions that he was brought up with. Weapons were something to be respected and feared. When using a weapon, they must accept it as an extension of their body. One must bond with the weapon and trust in their skill to use it’s full potential. There was a certain trick behind that concept. One that required deep meditation for a small period of time. This was to peer into the soul of the weapon and it did the same. Shura’s lineage believed that every weapon has a spirit that clings onto it. Stronger the weapon, the stronger the spirit.

There was a trick that the Ranzu family line had mastered over the ages. Passed down through the ages. By sharing one’s mana, strength, body and soul they could bond with the weapon. By doing so they are able to bring out the weapon’s true potential. Shura’s head was bowed while his eyes closed. He was focusing his mana, manifesting it.

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The sand warped between his toes and molded to his feet as he walked. The ground gave way with every step, the tiny pebbles and stones that made up the beach being pushed aside by his weight. With no solid surface to step on his foot sunk in with every step, and it made it harder for him to walk. Such difficulty was a bonus for him, as it would make the upcoming training that he was doing easier. He felt as if he were close to the next break through in his training, he simply had to keep pushing forward.

In order to do that he would continue to make his training more and more difficult. The lack of proper footing and the inability to properly utilize his momentum under this abnormal circumstance would push him to circumvent what would normally be a disability. Hopefully he'd be able to figure out a way to do so solo, as he didn't really have a training partner. Jake had come with him, but the lazy bum refused to train. He was happy with where he was both skill wise and power wise. Why would he push himself, especially against someone like Finn, when it really wasn't needed? Luckily Finn was able to see that he wasn't the only one here. Someone was there, kneeling before a blade in the sand. Looking to Jake, who shrugged and sat down, Finn walked forward with his sword on his back. Ten meters away, he'd stop and wait patiently for the man to finish whatever he was doing.

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Shura’s mind followed the sounds that surrounded him. Letting himself drift along, with each breath, the sand shifted. The mana that flowed through his body began to manifest. The sand responded in kind by pushing outward slightly. A slight, yellow glow began to envelop him. The sword began to respond. The large weapon began to give off a fiery glow. Shura said nothing while slowly luring the inner desires of the weapon out. Then the light show was cut short.

Shura heard the shuffling of sand coming from behind him. Someone had come in the morning like he did. This was different however, a shift in the tension caused the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Shura opened his eyes and looked forward. “Have you come to join me on this fine morning?” He stood up and placed a left hand on the weapon that sat before him. He pulled on it, the weapon resisted increasingly. The weapon’s weight demanded respect. Shura was not strong enough to use this weapon one handed yet. Then again sword strikes will always be stronger with two hands. With both hands latched onto the leather grip. He pulled once upward letting him unearth the weapon. He dragged the blade along the sand while turning around to meet the individual.

Shura looked at the boy in the peculiar outfit. A beast accompanied the lad sitting down not to far behind. The boy was approximately ten meters in front of him.

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As the man responded to Finn's presence, Finn did well to make note of the individual in front of him. The person had come here for meditation or training, perhaps a bit of both. Who was to say the two had to be mutually exclusive? Perhaps he was meditating while training, or training while meditating. Regardless of the methods in which he chose to utilize in order to push himself forward, the most important thing was that he went out and did it. Just by making the effort, no matter how small or large, one was making progress. That was enough to make Finn decide, upon this first meeting, that the person deserved at least a slight amount of respect from him.

The person seemed to sense Finn coming up in some way or another. The sand wasn't necessarily a loud thing, especially not with the lull of the waves and the sound of the wind. This person was abnormally attuned to the area around him. Perhaps he was some sort of mage, always sensing the energies around him? Or perhaps he had some sort of ability that Finn could not fully comprehend innately that allowed him better awareness of his surroundings. Regardless of what it was, the individual had chosen to make it a point that he sensed Finn, and had reacted.

As the man stood and grabbed his sword, Finn's eyes saw the slight shaking of his fist. The person tried to pull the blade from the earth, but to no avail. With this distance, the chances of the pull being an intended attack was slim to none. What it did prove though was that this person was training. The man could have all the respect for his blade in the world, and all the knowledge there with it, but he was still young. Maybe not in age, but in time around the blade in this level. Finn had met many people along his journey who had a deep and fundamental understanding of their strengths and weaknesses.

That understanding could not be drilled into someone through school or family. It came via experience. Experience of the new, of things that pushed an individual beyond what they had thought themselves capable. Things that strained the mind and pushed the body. This person, Finn found himself getting eager about. He wanted to better know this individual. He wanted to see what made him stand out from the others, if anything at all. Most importantly he wanted to clash blades with him. Finn had come here for the explicit purpose of training. Why would he not take up such an offer from someone who seemed so willing?

"I guess you could say that." Drawing the blade off his back with a slow, paced certainty, Finn held to blade to his side. The blade was held loosely in his hand, though it did not waver or sway. The grip was deceptive, you see. It was one that allowed for quick and sudden maneuverability through a multitude of angles, one that would allow for a proper counter. It was a grip that could only be done with a blade that someone wielded within a single hand. It was something that a beginner wouldn't barely pick up on, and a novice could only begin to grasp.

For a moment, Finn's mind wandered to the possibilities. How would he be able to utilize this in the future? Imagine if he had pushed himself further faster. What if he had been able to master the blade of his already? Would this technique he was performing now seem so much more simple? Would the holes in his ideology be more clear, and the gaps in his training more filled? He could only imagine the possibilities, and yet they were endless. He couldn't possibly understand concepts that he couldn't understand. It was an obvious, redundant thing. And yet it felt like the first step to moving forward was to understand that at a fundamental level, rather than just verbally acknowledge it.

"I wish you the best of luck," Finn said, sliding his foot out and slightly back. His feet were both firmly planted for only a moment before his back foot raised up ever so slightly. At the angle it was facing Shura, there would be no change. Still, it allowed him to have both a solid and fluid base. With this, he'd be able to both initiate and retaliate, depending on how the individual reacted. Still, he had only just grabbed his sword. He had not gotten into a stance, if there was any to get into at all. It would be proper manners to wait for him to prepare himself, and so that is exactly what Finn did.

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Detection was paired to something simple. The shift in energy of the area was more than enough to give Shura a heads up. Unlike some of his ancestors he was more attuned to the world around him. Subtle changes and shifts were causes for alarm. By pushing out his mana like he did the world was mapped out to him. He need not to see, but to feel one’s entrance. Just on that alone he could tell that someone had come to visit. He could only do this in meditation settings because he was focusing his mana. He knew he was a mere child still in the eyes of the world, grasping at the teet of power to suckle on it’s rewards. The sword barely moving when he grabbed it with one hand said a multitude of things about the relationship.

Anyone who had a sharp eye and a thing for weapons could have saw this a mile away. Shura was used to using magic and his hands to carry out his ambitions. He had some training with weapons but he felt that they were too impersonal. Well, he felt that way when he was younger. Being a bit older he was more versed in the knowledge of combat and the world. With both hands the blade became infinitely lighter, as if the sword responded to the respect given. The sword created a crescent arc as he dragged it through the soft sand.

Shura faced his potential sparring partner, watching very closely as the movements that could follow quickly. Ten meters was not a whole lot of distance in the world of super powered individuals. The boy spoke, his tone soft but confident at the same time. The lad removed his weapon from it’s sheathe located on his back. By doing this he was aware of what was to come next. It was quite the weapon really, one that seemed to carry an energy about it. Like Shura’s own sword except it was different. It resonated with it’s user and did not resist like his did. The craftsmanship was something to be respected

“I appreciate the company. Well let’s not draw this out with pleasantries.” He responded. Shura did not need to unleash his brutish ways on the individual. He showed no malice nor harm. He just watched as the boy grasped his weapon tightly.

With both hands on the handle of the weapon he lifted up the weapon from the sand. This time it was different from when he first grabbed it. The sword was hoisted into the air and felt almost light as a feather. Several things passed through Shura’s head in the passing moments. One being the range difference was staggering but that meant nothing if the lad was fast. Shura had nothing but his hand to hand combat to rely on. Whereas the lad before him, seemed a bit more focused and understanding in what he was doing. Shura knew that he was at a disadvantage even though he had the bigger weapon. It mattered not the size of the weapon but how you used it.

Shura removed both of his sandals while not taking his eyes off his target. Pushing them to the side he wanted nothing to get in the way. His feet pressed against the warm sand and his bare upper body seemed to glisten in the shifting sun. Ten meters stood between the two but of course that would have meant nothing with the speed they possessed. Shura angled his weapon forward  with his right hand close to the guard while his left under it. He began to circle watching for movements that his opponent could make in a instance. He did not rush in because he was wary of the target. It was foolish to go in against an unknown opponent.  He only moved to the right keeping the ten meters between them. This was reminiscent of a predator circling its prey looking for some sort of opening.

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The man in front of him had faced him and stared him down in a very similar fashion as to how Finn had stared him down moments before. The man was picking Finn apart, dissecting his build and frame. Everything from his stance to his tone of voice was being processed as relative data, though not all of it necessarily due to a conscious decision. In a world where peoples lives were on the line every day, there were some patterns that individuals picked up on without even meaning to. One might not realize that they had figured out what a threat looked like until every fiber in their being screamed out at once that it was a bad decision. This was not one of those times for either of them, of course. Both of them stood there, patiently respecting the other and looking forward to the upcoming exchange that had been agreed upon long before words came into the equation.

As the man hoisted the sword up with two arms, Finn noticed from the body language alone that it was not a light blade. The man tried to play it off, acting as of it were extremely light. His strength did not even come near the threshold to wield it one handed though, let alone with ease. It was not something that should be ashamed of, but rather something that should be acknowledged and accounted for when stepping into battle. The blade was heavy, and it would make him much slower than someone with more mastery over their weapon. That being said, Finn couldn't help but notice its unique appearance. The entire blade was coated with what looked to be paper. A better versed individual might be able to look at the blade and realize precisely what it was, but Finn was not such an individual. He had never seen paper like that, let alone paper that was purposefully stuck to a blade. It made him wonder what it could be for, as the chances of it just being for slow were slim to none.

As the man kicked off the footwear that would normally grant him safety from the elements, Finn grinned. The two of them were on the same footing now so to speak. Both of them had bare feet in the sand, the tiny specs of rock inching between their toes and around their feet. In many scenarios, it was a good idea to keep shoes or sandles on. The individual would have learned how to properly move in their own footwear obviously, and it would grant them protection from the elements. Even here on the beach, sharp shells or broken glass could serve as more of a threat than their leisurely spar with deadly swords. When training with the real deal, a single slip up could mean life or death. Finn stared patiently as the individual slid his shoes off to the side. The tip of his own blade kissed the sand, though did not actually sink into its depths. One thing that had become abundantly clear was that the man struggled with the weight of his own blade.

It was respectable that he put himself in a position to use such a weapon. It would force him to grow and adapt simply to wield it. For Finn and his blade though, it would prove to be an edge against him. As Shura began to circle around him, Finn watched and pivoted one of his feet, turning along with Shura. It seemed like the individual was positioning himself, trying to ensure he had the perfect opportunity before striking. The important thing here was that it did indeed look like he planned on striking. Finn would allow the individual the first move, as it seemed like that was what he wanted. Only if it turned out to be false would Finn decide to move.

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Circling to the right, Shura kept his distance from the boy. A piercing gaze stared into the lad’s very soul. Regardless of what he thought, this weapon was lighter with two hands than one. It was true that Shura did not have the ability to use this with one hand but two handed it was light as a feather. Logical thinking was not going to sever him to well in this situation. But this could leave a sort of opening to abuse. Logically thinking this weapon was heavy and would have taken a large amount of strength to swing naturally. But the world of logical thinking could be a downfall for someone in a world of magic. The impossible became possible very quickly with a bit of quick thinking and elbow grease.

A passing gust of wind kicked up a bit of sand slightly. It danced across the ground as a way to signal the way for this fight too begin. The wind served as a means to break the silence between the two. His left foot became the lead as it pressed down into the sand. As he did this Shura took the sword and pushed it downward. Running forward he dragged the blade through the sand to his right. The handle was held tightly with both arms. Shura’s muscles flexed as he made his move. Pressing forward, Shura used his dashing speed to reach the maximum space he could with blade in tow. He reached the six meter mark before dragging the blade upward out of the sand causing a torrent of sand to kick up in a forward moving fashion. It held no ability to do damage, just the power to hinder sight slightly. Sand kicked up creating a small gap in the vision for his opponent should he have not moved.

The sword moving upward he had one meter and some change to work with. Shura no doubt would appear to be open to the lad with this upward moving sword. WIth his right hand being the lead he had complete control over the blade. By moving his arms Shura could easily bring the sword down just as fast as he brought it upward. By doing so it could cut off any forward advance the boy could have done during that split second he slashed upward. Shura had no intentions of killing the lad, but he was going to test his strength. He had the control to stop the downward slash from crushing the lad. But Shura had a feeling the boy wasn’t going to move in such a linear fashion.

Shura was prepared to not go on with the downward slash. He could easily motion his left hand to put a hand on the middle of the blade while it moved upward. By doing this he could use the weapon as a shield. This could be used to repel any forward moving attacks.

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As the man circled around Finn, he was like a lion who thought it found itself an easy meal in the savanna. Each step was taken with confidence and pride, head held high and chin pointed out. The individual was a confident one, a prideful one. He was wanting to prove himself, though not to Finn. There was absolutely no reason for the individual to feel a need to prove himself to Finn, not when they only just met. Even if they had known each other better it would likely turn out this way. No, the individual was trying to prove something to himself right now. It was a respectable gesture, and one Finn would be more than happy to take place in in. That was not to say that Finn was going to go easy, or try not to win. Rather, it was proof that Finn was going to not hold anything back and instead come at this individual with everything he had. This was an important time for Finn too, after all. He could not just keep blindly pushing forward and doing things for the sake of doing them. He had to start buckling down, moving ahead with a purpose. What better time to start than now?

Without much warning, but well predicted, Shura began to make the first move. Planting a single foot ahead, Finn pivoted his back foot and swept his leading foot across him, turning his body so that it was facing the fighter. While his pivot was finished, Shura had already begun closing the distance. The man was dashing rather than running, aware that the short distance would not give him proper time to build up full speed. That was the smartest decision to make, and one that Finn planned on respecting. The man came to a stop, his own feet kicking up some of the sand as his foot drove itself into the not so solid ground. Arms straining, body twisting, Shura made sure to get every bit of strength and range he could for the one and a half meter sword to close the gap, kicking up sand as it did so. The dash itself had closed six of the ten meters between them. The final step, part of a final meter. With his arms wielding the blade by its hilt, the blade extended over the gap due to the length of Shura's arms. Had Finn not been responding, it would have cleaved up up the center.

Luckily however, Finn was not one to just sit idly and let himself be struck. As the man stepped in and the blade dragged, Finn slid his front foot back, increasing the supposed distance between them. The distance increased by over half a meter, which wouldn't seem like much. For a battle such as this though, it was all the difference in the world. The blade would pass by in front of Finn, followed by Finn's sword. This was in case Shura somehow had a spell to change the blades momentum, Finn could deflect even an instant stab with the angle of his own blade. As Shura's blade reached parallel with Finn's head, its arc would continue. This was the moment in which Finn chose to move.

Sliding his foot back forward just enough to allow it to lead, Finn's blade now angled above his head to stop the blade if Shura tried crashing its weight down upon him. Using his leading foot to shove himself forward in a pseudo dash, Finn would slam his open palm into the center of Shura's chest in the hopes of sending the man backwards with blade in hand. The way events played out would make it difficult to avoid, but nothing such as a fight ending blow. This was now more important to that. As he had realized, he needed to start planning for the future. No longer could he just sit back and allow random urges and happenings to drive him forward and force his life to change. He needed to have control over his own life, and to implement his own change as he saw fit with the changing tides. That was what this was becoming. Certainly this was a chance for him to train, practicing and honing his swordsmanship. Beyond just that though this was a chance for Finn to secure himself a rival. At their current levels, the both of them likely had already pieced it together. Albeit slightly, Finn was the superior swordsman. It was not something that should bring shame or anger, but rather something that had to be admitted by a warrior so that change could be made. This was a fact that had been likely acknowledged by both parties, but not a certainty that would reign throughout time.

This was now Finn's chance to see exactly where Shuro stood in the rankings, and exactly how much drive he had to go. Likewise, this was probably the same feeling the individual had. A chance to see exactly where Finn existed in the world of fighters, and whether or not he would be an individual to help Ranzu climb. The two of them would kindred spirits in that sense. They both wished for growth, and they both wished for an individual that could help spur that growth. Nothing was more annoying than having to try and gain strength alone. It was a boring and less than fruitful task. Certainly strength could be gained, and past a certain point, it could even be honed. It was still much better to have another individual to strain against. To clash blades, to grow, to evolve. The only thing needed for the both of them right now was proof that they other would be able to step up to the challenge.

The blow that was most likely just landed on Shura was one that would have likely never landed. People do not fight how they normally would in a training situation. They open themselves up to specific things to see how they themselves would react, and to read whether or not a future opponent would take an opening. Well, he did. Now it was time to see how this individual continued forward.

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Shura watched the lad’s movements, he could do little as the kid stepped inward to deal with the incoming slash. This was expected, Shura was somewhat open due to not activating any form of spells. In this case he had no reason too. Why go all in against someone who was perceived to not be an enemy. The boy showed some skill in the split second he moved. The boy could not see it but this pleased Shura to no ends. It was rare someone came along in his life that showed this kind of movement. Shura knew at that very moment he had to have him. Not in a sexual manner but as a follower. He needed to invite more like this into his kingdom so he can reform this world. The large blade loomed over the boy who was being tested. He had to act accordingly or find himself cleaved in half. Granted Shura would have stopped if the blade came to close to hitting him. Why? No need to kill someone in a sparring match. Not to mention it was bad manners to do so.

The boy’s inward step came with a deflecting motion with his sword. Following that it was a forward moving palm. Not much could be done in this situation. Shura had to react quickly. Shura’s left arm that was behind his right crossed in front of his chest. This was a small means of softening the incoming blow. Shura’s body tensed completely and the impact came afterwards. Shura’s entire body felt the blow that was aimed at the center of his chest. The lad’s palm pressed against a flexed arm and tensed chest. This forced Shura to release his grip on the blade as he was repelled backwards unexpectedly.  He slid backwards roughly two meters, he was able to keep his footing to not be lifted up suddenly from the strike.

Thankfully it was not enough to do any real damage but pain radiated throughout Shura’s arm. The sword was left behind in the dirt but Shura was far from defenseless. In his current state he was not able to use the sword to it’s full potential but Shura was proficient in other ways.

“I have to say lad, it has been awhile since someone has been able to hit me. Shura Ranzu.” The boy had earned the right to know his full name. Something that not most were aware of. This was the acknowledgement of someone who was worth it. A potential friend, and rival for the coming times.

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As the actions took place, many things occurred simultaneously. First, the blade passed in front of Finn harmlessly, kicking up no where near as much sand as was likely anticipated. The sharp blade, regardless of how wide it was, would have thrown most of the sand low or off to the sides. The thin stream that would pass in front of Finn would not serve as enough to block his vision, but rather allow a few specs to hit his face and a grain to get in one of his eyes by sheer chance. That would not influence the coming actions though, as someone who had experienced pain far worse than that had grown a sort of tolerance. These things all were the first step to what was about to come, a predecessor to a successor that didn't even know it existed yet. However, in that moment a master would have known the battle was over in the standard in which it had begun. There was little to no chance that the individual before him would be able to block the blow, not without the aid of magic. This was now all but written in stone, and yet neither of them yet knew for sure. The rest still had to happen, and that would mean it had to be seen through.

Second was the step in, which had been planned for if things went accordingly. It was an action that would come in many parts. One of these so called parts in which was planned for this very occasion was the following of Shura's blade with his own. It had to track the blade all the way up, ensuring that any sort of ability to change momentum could be either deflected or blocked. Otherwise at that close range there would be little to nothing that could be done to stop the incoming attack, and it would either pierce Finn clean through or cleave him open depending on how the attack came in and how it lingered on his body before continuing its momentum, if it had any momentum left to continue with. Then there was the timing. Finn had to make sure to time it so that he was stepping in right as the blade passed by his head, thus making it miss contact with him ever so slightly and also to continue its momentum upwards. A huge and heavy blade like that could not have its momentum easily stopped, and even if the enemy had the reaction time to see what was going on (which he probably did), he would be unable to physically react in time. The final action, which Finn had planned to do but was unable to do, was to wind up his arm for a powerful contact. In order to make sure the timing was perfect and to avoid any sort of trickery, Finn had to close the distance instantly. The power that was put behind the blow was not full, as full power would have broken the mans arm. It was reduced by half. The man, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, likely had yet to feel the damage that had been inflicted upon his body. However, it was quite possible that the arm of the man was fractured.

The unexpected result is what came at the very end. Shura had been able to see the attack coming, or at the very least predicted such a thing when he saw Finn leading forward with a foot towards the ground rather than towards the body. It was that kind of split second decision making that separated the warriors from the rabble, and it was that sort of action taking that impressed Finn. The man had decided to move his arm, letting go of the blade that was obviously too heavy for him to hold one handed. Normally, many Fiore schools of the blade taught its students to never let go of the blade. It was an extension of the body, and just as important as the hands or the feet. Finn found that sort of teaching as false. He was not one who was going to preach his ideals to others, or even bother arguing them. Ideals needed only be true to their believer, especially when there was no intent to enforce them. It worked for him, it made him happy, and he was able to prove it to himself again and again. Why would be other changing it? Why would he feel necessity in forcing others to believe it, simply to satisfy his own doubt or ego? No, the sword was no extension. It was a friend, a tool, and a protector. It was something one must get to know on a personal level. Its faults, its quirks, and what made it unique. It must be bonded with and befriended. It was tool. Something to end lives, and protect lives. It could dull, and it could break. It could be replaced. It was a protector. It shielded him when he could not shield himself, and it killed those he could not kill otherwise. The sword was something in which one could use and then, if need be, sacrifice to keep moving. New swords could be made. New weapons could be found and forged and learned. But it was just that- A sword. There may be exceptions to the rule, of course. But he had not yet found it.

And here Shura was, accidentally agreeing with the logic that Finn had made up long ago. It was never even something that Finn had necessarily given time towards. He never thought about it long and hard in the forest, sitting on stumps and branches and contemplating the meaning of his existence and how he viewed the tools he used for survival and growth. He simply thought that way because that's how he was. Sometimes, things did not need to be picked apart and analyzed in an attempt to force a further understanding. Sometimes, things should be understood for what they were. Ideas. Existences in the moment. The whole concept of future and past was something that obviously existed, but needed not effect everything and anything. The present was all encompassing. One was only ever in the present, even when living in the past or living for the future. The act of living by itself was a present tense, a verb. It was proof that the now was real, and that's where they were. Maybe if more people thought like that, the conflicts and the disagreements would cease? There could be dialogue. Growth.

As Shura moved his arm to block the palm, the mans arm was fully tensed. It was smart to protect the bone, but not necessarily good for his joints. The shock would now travel much easier to his elbow and shoulder, and while it may have prevented a full fracture, there was now a better chance of a hairline fracture and joints to become sore. It was the best idea at the time, and one that Finn respected immensely. As the man took the hit, his weight was shifted backwards at a speed and power that much exceeded what he was likely expecting. Truth be told, Finn was surprised that the man stayed upon his feet. While the force wasn't applied too high for balance to be a plausible thing, most would have stumbled or lost their way while moving backwards. Somehow, the man before him had stayed on his feet while he traveled back two meters. As the blade he held dropped into the sand, Finn blinked his right eye forcefully, rolling the eye in his socket and opening it again. He was lucky, he no longer felt the annoyance of the sand on his eyeball. it was now in the corner of his eye, ready to be wiped away at any moment and no longer a risk to go back into his eyeball.

Finn looked down at the blade for a moment. His body was still tense, and due to Shura's proximity, any movement would be caught in the peripherals. While movement in the peripherals would not be ascertained perfectly, it would still be better for Finn. The corners of ones eyesight where the vision was not focused was not good for precise measurements. He could not tell how many fingers Shura would hold up, or what his facial expression was. He could tell general movements very well though. Charging in, swinging, a kick. Anything of the sort could be distinguished and easily countered at the moment. Finn instead, as he heard the man give his name and compliment, decided to kneel forward and move his free hand to the hilt of the blade. Picking the sword up with complete and total ease, Finn turned the blade in his hand and inspected it. It was made well, and the paper still was a mystery to him.

"That makes me happy to hear..." he said, his voice trailing off as he looked up and flashed a smile to the man before him. "You're a powerful fighter. If you say that it must be a compliment indeed." His muscles strained slightly under the weight of the blade, but that was not due to any strain. It was the same way biceps would be tensed by an average man carrying groceries. Enough to be noticed, but not enough to obstruct him in any real way. Finn sheathed his sword and stepped forward, holding the blade out sideways by its impressive hilt to allow the individual to take it. It was a massive blade, and obviously had many secrets. The paper had not destroyed itself at all during any of the movements, and it didn't have even a grain of sand stuck in the paper. Whatever it was hiding was hidden deep within its creation, and it was likely that Finn would not know unless the two of them one day crossed blades for real. Such an aspect excited Finn, but it also wasn't something that he necessarily wanted to hunt down. The man was strong yes, but what Finn was after right now was slightly different than that.

Truth be told, the indivudal known as Shura Ranzu was a predator. It was not the first time that Finn had felt this feeling, and it likely wouldn't be the last. He remembered the first time very well indeed. He had been in Worth Woodsea. He was deep in its depths, and he had no weapon on him. He did at first. An old, slightly rusted sword that his father had given to him to go out and hunt with his brother. It would be good training to give him such a weapon, he said. It was only later once Finn knew more of fighting that he realized his father knew the sword would break. How could he not? A beast like that who had seen a hundred battles knew enough for common sense.

Finn was injured, but only slightly. His chest had been cut deep by the claw of a bear like beast, but he had been able to run away and evade it. It was not due to superior speed or anything preposterous like that, but simply Finn's better understanding of the layout of the forest and his ability to use obstacles to his advantage. He could not only climb a tree, but then jump from branch to branch. Something the bear certainly could not do. It had been enough to let Finn escape, but it had put him further in the woods than he had ever been. He was ten at the time. He was young, even by the standards in which he had learned within the forest. Still, he was strong and fast. At ten he could probably have killed most of the lower ranked wizards in any single guild. It was a confident statement, but one he could have a great amount of confidence in. He was strong, fast, durable, and most importantly not afraid of the aspect of death.

Still, he was lost at the time. And it had to be remedied. He knew the general way in which he had to get back, and that's when he felt it. Something had him in his sights. He knew, but he didn't know how. He turned and twisted every which way, hoping to find the source of whatever had him in its gaze. It was something that had the presence like him. The presence of a killer. But it was different. It wasn't the fear one felt when going up against a bear type beast without a weapon. It wasn't the fear of being on your last leg and cornered by a wolf pack. It wasn't even the fear of death that loomed in the unknown. It was the fear of something that could kill him in a way unexpected. He felt like he was in a net without fabric, and thus was unable to escape. He heard rustling behind him, but it was too late. As he turned around to see what it was a massive orange fist crashed into the brush. Landing in front of him was Jake, who immediately turned and hugged him. He was saved.

The beast was a snake. It was not the size of a bear. It wasn't even the size of Jake without magic. It was small, and it was venomous. A single bite would have killed Finn. Finn was stronger, faster, and more durable. Finn could kill it if they had been in a straight up fight. That's not how the snake operated though. It used the shadows, its fangs, its venom. Anything it needed to do. It was not kill or be killed. It was survive. That was all.

That was the exact same feeling that this man gave him. Shura, was it? He was a snake in the grass, and yet he was more dangerous than that. He bore claws. He showed his fangs. His fur stood on edge, and he seemed like a man who could fight until the death. When backed into the corner, he would likely lash out as powerfully as any beast or warrior that Finn had ever fought. To compare him to a snake in the grass was no insult, but rather one of the highest forms of compliment that Finn could give considering the circumstances that they were in. Shura had more than the needs to kill someone face to face. He felt like he had a loaded sack of venom within him, ready to be injected into anything. It felt like he could kill something from the inside out as quickly as he could kill them with a blade. It was something that would make this man dangerous, no matter the difference in raw power or even experience. It was what made this man truly terrifying, and truly respectable. Finn couldn't help but wonder who it was he had his sights on? People like that always had their gazes set somewhere. Their master, their rival, their enemy.

Themselves.

Finn couldn't help but wonder if anyone had thought that way about him before. He could understand, perhaps. A snake in the grass. Someone with more than one way to kill another, and not necessarily in a straight forward fashion. It wouldn't be such a bad consideration, really. Something that he acknowledged as potential, but didn't bother lingering on. There was no point given the circumstance. Whatever the man would be aimed at, or had already aimed at, Finn couldn't think of any reason that he'd be in the sites. Not yet. Besides, if he was, he'd merely deal with it as it came. Shura was not necessarily a good or bad person. By societies standpoint, he might not have even been a respectable person. Finn didn't know, nor did he care. All he knew for sure was that Shura Ranzu was a warrior, and someone Finn respected as that. No amount of personal objectives or lashing out at an individual would change that. It was something that went much deeper than the normal pettiness of people.

Jake had woken up by this time, sitting up and stretching before looking over at the two of them. It was a short nap, and yet the exchange they had given each other was enough for an eternity of dialect. It was short, as a real battle often is. However, it had allowed them to learn a lot about one another. The two were likely making mental notes of the other simultaneously. This is someone to watch out for in the future. Someone I can trust to always give me a good run for my money. Jake stood and stretched. He knew what had come. It was time for the two of them to leave the beach. Finn felt himself close now. The breakthrough was near, and he needed only to hammer it home. That could very well be done here, but this one felt different. All this time it had felt like his sword skills had him walking down the hallway. Now, in the depths of his mind, he could finally see it. A door before him, waiting to be opened. Its key was already turned, and its handle was beginning to follow suit. He needed only get there.

Stepping back, Finn offered a smile one last time. "Finn Mertins." He said his name by itself. It needed no explanation. It was payback for the other warriors introduction, and a sign of respect. This person, as Finn had already decided a while ago, had earned at least that much. Turning, Finn walked over to Jake and gave his brother a fist bump. Finn would not know that Jake slept lightly during that time. He had fallen asleep, yes, but it was not a deep sleep. He had felt it too. Shura, regardless of his lack of negative intent, was a dangerous individual. If need be, he had been at the willing and able to smash another snake in the grass. Luckily it had not come to that. The two would still be able to give one another a sense of mutual respect that had not turned into drawn blood on their first meeting. As far as friendships go, killing one another was usually a bad way to get things churning, at least in his experience.

As the two of them walked away, on some gods table, a coin finished its wobbling. It had landed, and it had sided in Finn's favor. However, their conflict had been just that. A flip of a coin. Whereas Finn had the experience and the skills to back it up, Shura had an intuition that was deadly in any fighter. To try to compare fighters and call them better or worse than one another, despite the kits that they may or may not have possessed, was something that many of the best did not bother to do. Anything could happen at any given moment to tip the scales in any particular way. This time, Finn had come out victorious. If anything else had happened, even a slight variation, things may have been different. In the end, though, wasn't that what made fighting so fun? Wasn't that what made growth all the more worth it?

Wasn't that what made someone alive?

[Exit]

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Shura stood up straight and flexed his hand. He began to rotate his arm around to knock the pain out. His mind flooded with several questions that all boiled down to one singular answer. 'I have much to learn.' He thought to himself. He watched Finn pick up the large weapon, a whole lot easier than Shura could. This only reimbursed the idea the boy was stronger than he looked. Something that his father taught him in his younger days. Shura had a quick flash back of his youth. He could see a rather tall individual cloaked in a darkness. His back was turned and Shura was laying on the ground, bruised and battered from a sparring match. His fathers voice echoed through the reaches of his mind. 'Never underestimate anyone. Arrogance leads to the fall.' He clenched onto his fathers teachings till this very day. He watched Finn inspect the weapon, frankly Shura only vaguely knew of it's true power. Just a few details given to him from the shop he purchased it from. The blade had a rather 'explosive' personality. Finn spoke calmly, and gave a compliment that give Shura a sense of progress. He was always unsure where he stood in the world. It was reassuring to know he walked the right path.

Finn stepped forward with the large blade holding it out horizontally, presenting the weapon to Shura. Of course Shura bowed his head out of respect and took the blade with both hands. His right rested on the handle and his left hand on the underbelly of the weapon. It was at that moment Shura felt it. The aura of a hero radiated from the boy. A strong sense of innocence, covered by a fierce tenacity to fight. A fascinating yet terrifying thing that excited him. This only reinforced the idea of Shura wanting to get strong so he could face off with the lad as equals. He was still not ready yet to contend with someone like this. Shura stuck the sword in the sand and remove his mask. The time had come to reveal his face now that his name had been spoken. Shura had stopped being a boy at that very moment and walked the path of a man. Fear had no longer plagued him, to get stronger he had to welcome challenge. Fear of defeat, is to fear of evolution. He placed the mask on the top of the handle. Finn gave his name in return. “The next time we meet, we will meet as equals Finn Mertins.” He replied.

Shura watched Finn turn and leave with his companion. Shura had much work to do. The training was not going to stop here. He still had much work to do. He only turned to the sea. He returned to his original position, kneeling in the sand meditating. This time it was different, he felt free.

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Then suddenly a shift in the air gave way to a cold chill. The air turned rigid and a sudden tension flooded the immediate area. Shura was actually caught off guard by this completely. He stood up quickly and turned around. There was no one there. Silence was a close companion at this very moment. Closer than that of the sword. Then a deep voice came, almost demonic in nature. Calling out to him as if trying to lure him closer. “Shura.” The Shura noticed something was different about his mask. A dark purple aura radiated from the mask he removed. Shura raised an eyebrow at this phenomenon. ‘It’s never done that before.’ He thought to himself.

A sinister laugh boomed from the mask and then darkness engulfed the area. 100 meters of sand turned hard as the energy pulsed through it. Infecting every piece of gravel in the sand. This was accompanied by an unsettling filling as Shura was completely blind in the pitch black.

Shura’s fight or flight instinct kicked in at that very moment. He was no coward, so there was only one option. He clenched both hands causing a beam saber to form in each hand. Each saber radiated with light, illuminating a small area. The mask began to float right next to the sword. The darkness formed around the mask and took a humanoid form. It became a monstrous form that stood roughly seven foot six. It’s size rivaled that of a giant. It solidified and began to carve out features in the body. The sand return to it’s original state. Shura waited to see what this abomination that was forming right before him. The air became dense, and Shura’s body suddenly felt heavier than normal.


The being that was forming, exerted magical pressure. Shura even found it harder to move with each passing second. For the once he felt fear in his body. He should have struck before the form took on a sape. He clenched the raw energy in each hand. His body tensed up completely. He saw the sword sitting in the sand right next to the being. He wanted to move but his body did not respond. The dark entity floated to the ground. The being became whole and surprisingly human looking. The individual that stood before Shura had a different mask than he did. A mask that held a twisted smile with a crown attached to it. The individual’s body was littered with tattoo and he wore baggy pants.


Shura was frozen where he stood. He was absolutely dumbfounded to what just occurred in front of him. The individual cracked it’s neck left and right before opening his eyes. A chilling feeling crept across his body as the man peered into his soul. There was a awkward silence before the individual moved. He grabbed the handle of the Boom Blade, as Shura named it. He unearthed the mighty weapon with no hesitation and minimal effort. He looked over it and swung the weapon a few times. “Nice toy you got here.” the man’s tone was casual to the point that it was unnerving.

Shura managed to “Who or what are you?” The man approached Shura. He rested the bulk of the blade on his shoulder. He circled around, sizing Shura up and down. Shura did not make any sudden movements. The man chuckled and walked towards the sea. “Every linage has a beginning. I am the beginning of our history." Shura’s eye’s widened, his mind raced back to the stories of his mother. The Ranzu lineage started with the mage who transcended gods. A individual who gave up his humanity to obtain forbidden power. Shura whispered under his breath. “Geno Ranzu..”

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“In the flesh.”

A sense of dread flowed through Shura in an instant. Stories were passed down from generation to generation about this man. This individual who saw fit to challenge those who achieved godhood. He even succeeded in taking a few down and removing a massive threat from existence with the help of the magical world. Just by the pressure exerted alone Shura could tell the stories held truth to them. For a while he thought they were just tales told to scare the weak children that held the name. Shura gritted his teeth and turned around to face his ancestor. He was unable to channel any mana at the current moment so he was defenseless. Through the force of will, Shura was able to turn and face the blast from the past. The more important question was

‘Why here, why now? For what purpose did this man have to show up?’

Geno faced Shura, only a few feet away from him. He looked down at the much younger individual. “You have the look of confusion and the stench of fear about you. Lighten up kid, not here to kill ya. If I was you would have been dead already. I am merely here to test you.” He explained. Shura did not let the tension leave his body. His senses reached heights he never knew existed. Nothing but the sense of danger erupted from this man’s body. Geno approached the boy and stuck the sword into the ground in front of him. Shura watched Geno carefully as he walked around him. Shura instinctively grabbed the large blade with both hands. This time he did not try to one hand it. He was well aware of the danger present at this moment. He quickly unearth the blade. Geno walked five meters away before turning around. His arms were folded behind his back. He also retracted the raw energy he was letting loose into the area. Showing that he was the master of his own power.

Shura was able to move freely once more. He was still trying to comprehend everything that was happening at once. Geno removed one hand from his arm. “I saw a bit of the fight you did with the boy earlier, needless to say you are sloppy. Your technique is shabby and you like to test the waters too much boy. That will be your undoing.”

Shura’s face turned from surprise into a frown. He did not like the idea of being looked down like this. It was insulting for someone to judge his fighting style so harshly without even knowing who he was. Geno saw this and removed one hand from behind his back. He motioned for Shura to come. He was egging Shura on to engage him. “Come now show me what you are really made of. Come at me as if you are trying to kill me.”

Shura was filled with determination and only responded simply with, “Gladly.”

Geno was completely relaxed with his right hand extended outward. His palm facing upward and he stood directly up. Shura clenched the weapon in his hand tightly, he began to pour mana into it. The paper on the blade began to glow individually. This time it was different compared to facing against Finn. He was going to give this man no chance to engage.

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Geno smiled from behind his mask. He knew full well that this boy had a long way to go. This test was not a battle of strength. This was a battle of resolve, Ranzu’s carried a certain tenacity about them. One that drove them forward towards heights people could only dream of. The question was did this boy carry that. Geno was full aware of the state of Ranzu’s. He was one of the last that existed in this land. Everyone else had passed or was wiped out. He couldn’t let the legacy die without some sort of resistance. That and he got bored sitting on the sidelines in the afterlife. This was the true reasoning for his appearance in this world. If he was pleased with the boy’s performance then he would reward it with something priceless.

The two stared each other down, creating a awkward silence for a moment. Only to be broken by the crashing of the waves in the background. Shura’s breathing was sporadic due to being on edge the whole time. Geno broke the silence between the two because he was growing impatient. “Before night falls boy.”

Shura gritted his teeth once more, and swallowed any uncertainty that dwelled within. The time had come for him to show this monster that his time had passed long ago. It was time for the new generation to rise up. He pushed forward with the blade in tow. Shura had a small gap to close so while moving forward he slashed from right to left horizontally. Geno may have not been trying to kill Shura. The same could not be said on Shura’s end. With this swipe he aimed to split the man in half at his waist. He did not close the gap completely he stayed at sword length only close enough for the top half of the sword too hit.

Geno did not move his feet. Only his right hand. With an exposed, outer forearm he used it to block the incoming blade. The sound of metal slammin against metal erupted. Shura was actually dumbfounded for a moment because he couldn’t move the weapon at all. He was not expecting Geno to block with nothing but his body.

Shura’s facial expression was filled with anger. Geno did not say anything, just snickered a bit. This only made Shura angrier. Geno pushed the weapon off his forearm causing Shura to be taken with the weapon slightly due to the weight of the blade. Shura used this to his advantage, he let the blade drop and he slid it across the ground to attempt to bring the blade upward to split Geno from the middle up. Sand parted and flew upward with the slice. This time Geno used a open hand to stop the blade. Shura jumped backward with the sword in front of him. It rested on the ground. He was already starting to show signs of exhaustion.


“Don’t tell me you are already getting tired.” Geno’s tone was that of a condescending one. The levels of irritation only grew with each passing second. Shura picked the blade up and held it directly above his head. “Try this one.”

Energy surged through the blade as he slashed it downward. The papers on the sword began to glow once more. A trail of explosions erupted from the tip of the blade moving in a straight line. Each explosion was 2x2 in diameters causing a trail of explosions too be created for twenty meters. The explosions went from the sand leading into the ocean behind Geno. “Oh?” was last thing heard before he was engulfed in a torrent of destruction. Shura was increasingly more tired after that attack. The blade drained a solid chunk of his mana pool. This only proved how far Shura had to go. He smiled, while panting. Geno had not moved from his spot, unphased by the attack done to him. He fanned away the smoke cloud created by the explosion.

“Quite the attack you got there. Seems it’s very taxing on you.”

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Shura was at his wits end in an instant. He body was tired and he had no idea what to do. He wasn’t ready to give up not even in the slightest. ‘I can’t give up now, I can’t stumble here. I don’t care who this man is. My story will not end here!’ He thought to himself. It was one of those moments that would have been a turning point in a story. The main protagonist declares they aren’t going to lose. Through the sheer power of determination they could. overcome the obstacle. The shame was, this is not that story. Geno vanished from existence, his energy had vanished from the world suddenly. The sand under his feet exploded and he felt a unmeasurable amount of pain in his stomach. He let go of his weapon, due the large amount of pain. He fell to his knees, the point Geno was trying to get across was this was not that story. There was a sense of reality that one must be grounded in.

Geno said nothing while this all happened. As a quick recap for those who could not follow. Geno used his speed to clear the gap instantly and quickly. With the small gap between them there was no time to move. Not too mention due to the power gap between them Shura couldn’t follow that if he wanted too. Geno embedded his fist with only a fraction of his true strength. Otherwise he would have killed Shura on the spot. Shura fell down on both knees and hunched over. He was trying to gasp for air, reeling back from the strike.

“You got spunk kid. You are definitely a descendant of mine. We are going to become real close. My time is up for the moment. But this will not be the last time we speak.”

Shura said nothing due to being hunched over on the ground. Writhing in pain. His mind was focused on everything. Geno watched the boy fall over. “That punch will remind you of the difference in power. Let that pain tell you there are many more out there like me.” Geno explained. As quickly as he attacked Geno returned to raw energy. The energy caused the mask to turn to it’s original state. It fell into the sand and Shura was left with his weapon on the ground. He said nothing but just lay down in pain, trying not to throw up everything he had inside.

He could hear the laughing of the madman who had brought terror across the land. He understood why the Ranzu name was so feared. Geno hadn’t even used a spell or anything on him. He only needed raw physical strength to actually do what he needed done. Shura knew if he had a fraction of what Geno had, he could be a force of nature. Everything that happened on this day was a eye opener. He was angry and in pain. ‘I will get stronger, I will surpass Geno.’ he thought.

513 WC

Training Complete Spells Trained