"It can't be... Why?" murmured Max, still surprised, watching his brother strike the tree relentlessly.
Oliver was about to deliver one last blow, but a firm hand grabbed his wrist. The young man turned, meeting Baldur's calm gaze.
"Mr. Baldur?"
"That's enough, Oliver," said the old man calmly. "You've trained hard, but bleeding your fists won't make you stronger... Go home. I'll be there in a moment to disinfect and bandage you."
"But I..."
"Come on, Oliver," said Gouten, somewhat concerned, placing a hand on his shoulder to guide him. Wait a minute... Who won the fight?
"Actually..." Baldur pondered for a few seconds, his gaze lost. "I would consider it a draw..."
"Mr. Baldur beat me..." Max interrupted, his voice trembling, as he put a hand to his chest.
"Really!?" exclaimed Gouten, incredulous.
"We hadn't noticed, but Mr. Baldur is much stronger than the three of us put together..." confessed Max, staring at the ground. "Go to the house... Baldur will come and take care of Oliver right away..."
Gouten and Oliver took a few steps back, looking at Max with intrigue and confusion. Max's attitude had done a 180° turn; he seemed like a different person before their eyes.
"Stop looking at me like that and go home, now..." he ordered them.
"He's back..." Gouten assumed, guiding his cousin toward the house. "The old Max is back..."
Baldur watched as the two boys walked away, only to turn around and see Max, trembling, breathing quickly and deeply. His gaze was calm, but his composure was shaken.
"It's been six years... since I've felt... this concern..." Max mentions. I never imagined... seeing my brother pushing himself like that...
"Oliver is a kind young man... he grew up with the mindset of feeling useful, Max. You should know that better than anyone..." Baldur said. "Oliver helps me all the time with household chores or offers to do other things... he even almost leaves the house without a coat to help you bring firewood into the house, or he takes pains to answer you when you ask him what 4x3 is... they are small gestures, but they speak volumes about your brother, Max..."
"That's the environment you're referring to... right? Oliver grew up as a human... not as a Senkayn. He doesn't have that warrior pride, nor a will forged in steel..."
"No..." Baldur nodded, his tone calm. "He grew up like any other child on this Earth. The environment defines people. It gives them roots, motives..." A child absorbs what he sees, and that shapes his mindset.
"Oliver and Gouten never saw me train... they only saw me working, helping you..." Max murmured, lowering his gaze.
"Exactly. That's where Oliver's helpful mindset comes from... and Gouten's laziness," Baldur replied with a subtle smile. They're good kids, but your training was like a punch in the gut... especially for Oliver. You made him feel useless, when you know he's not.
"I quit..." said Max, putting his hands in his pockets.
Baldur's eyes widened in surprise.
"I apologize deeply, sir," Max added in a firm voice. I resign as Oliver and Gouten's teacher. I'm not cut out for this... I have a lot to learn.
"What are you talking about, Max?"
"I'm selfish. I'm immature. My ignorance not only blinded me, it also put my family at risk... and you. To be a good teacher, I need to adapt to my environment. I need to learn to live as a human... I need to grow up."
Baldur looked at him with a mixture of pride and melancholy. Then he put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry... You never stop learning. Life itself is a lesson. Now that you have the will to understand... I will teach you what it means to be human."
Max smiled slightly, his gaze filled with new determination.
"Thank you, sir..."
"The first step to being human... is to apologize to your brother," Baldur said as he walked toward the house. "The last thing we want is for Oliver to grow up with resentment toward you... or with an insecurity that consumes him."
"I was already planning to do that, even without you asking me," said Max, following him. "But... apologizing isn't exactly my specialty. It's going to be hard for me."
"That's one of the things you'll have to work on," replied Baldur, in a firm but understanding tone. "But you can do it."
Max was silent. He walked with his eyes fixed on the ground, deep in thought. Suddenly, he stopped short, his eyes wide.
Baldur noticed his pause and turned to look at him, curious.
"One last thing..." said Max, raising his voice. You once told me that you closed the Water Dojo for personal reasons. But now that I understand your abilities better...
Max took a step forward, his voice serious.
"Mr. Baldur, I ask you to reopen the dojo. Take Oliver, Gouten... and if possible, me too... as disciples."
Baldur's eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, memories of Tao Pai hit him hard.
"I have proven that I am not a good role model. But you... since we met you, you have been a true role model. Not only as a warrior, but as a person," Max concluded, bowing his head respectfully....
"You can't break with a sacred legacy just because of a family conflict...
...Think about those boys. If no one stops this genocidal maniac, he'll reach all four schools. And the most vulnerable right now is the Water School...
...I also thought it wasn't the right time to teach my boys. And look at them now... Please don't make the same mistake.
Words that struck Baldur right in the heart. However, his face remained unperturbed, like an unbreakable mask. Only silence surrounded him for a moment.
"All right, Max..." he finally replied, in a low, barely audible voice.
He paused briefly. His gaze seemed to look to the past, but his words anchored him to the present.
"I'll train them."...
Gouten was lying on the sofa, flipping through the channels without much interest, looking for something decent to kill time. The remote control changed channels nonstop... until the TV stopped on an urgent broadcast.
In the kitchen, Oliver washed his hands with warm water, taking care not to irritate his injured knuckles.
"Oliver... did you see the news? They're talking about attacks on several dojos in the city," Gouten commented, without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Huh? Attacks?"
"Yeah, apparently a foreigner arrived and started killing members of several dojos... they say he defeats them with his bare fists."
"Wow... then he must be very strong..."
"Nah, I could beat him," said Gouten with a confident smile. "Remember what Max told us? That I would be stronger than the average man."
"That means I couldn't beat him..." Oliver muttered, looking down at the water running over the sink.
"Don't be silly... You shouldn't take what people say so seriously," Gouten replied casually. "If you take everything to heart, one day you're going to hit a wall."
"How profound..." Oliver commented, visibly surprised.
"I heard it in an American movie. The main character was bullied for being fat and..."
"Enough," Oliver interrupted, looking away in annoyance.
"Gorgo Garilla," that's what they called him. Although he prefers "Big Gorgo"... ha ha ha. That name sucks. They could call him "Big Fatso" and no one would notice," Gouten said with a laugh.
"Do you realize that you just broke the rule of your previous sentence?"
"I don't care. He's a murderer... he deserves all the contempt we can give him," Gouten said.
Then he stared at the screen.
"An old man armed with a machete managed to corner him, but he still escaped," he read aloud. Ha, I would defeat him.