The morning mist clung to the forest like a shroud. Leo's wooden sword struck again and again, splinters flying as the practice post trembled under his relentless blows. Sweat drenched his face, his breaths ragged, but his eyes burned with that faint blue spark — the same glow that haunted the master's dreams.
From the porch of the old temple, the Master watched in silence, arms folded, his face unreadable. Finally, he spoke.
"Your rage is your strength, boy… but also your chain. Do you wish to be a beast of blood, or a man of the blade?"
Leo stopped mid-swing, chest heaving. His voice cracked with defiance.
"I want power… enough to never lose anyone again!"
The Master's gaze sharpened.
"Power without discipline is nothing but slaughter. I trained your father… and I will not see his legacy rot in your hands."
At the mention of his father, Leo's grip on the wooden sword tightened. His teeth clenched. "Then teach me… all of it."
The Master rose, his shadow long in the morning sun. He stepped into the yard, drawing a battered steel sword.
"Very well. From today, you are no longer a boy. You are my disciple. And I will break you, until you rise stronger than even the Four."
He raised his blade, the air thick with killing intent.
"Come at me, Leo Fang. Show me your will."
Leo lunged, shouting with all his heart — and thus began the first of countless battles between student and master.
The forest echoed with steel, the prophecy of ruin hidden in each clash of their blades.