Kael frowned. "What do you mean, you mean I'm done with the Demon Fist?"
He couldn't help but stare into his master's eyes, thinking it was some sort of joke. His master didn't do jokes though, and Kael knew it.
The idea made his stomach twist. Done? After a year? After all that? He didn't even know half the terms his master threw at him. He still didn't understand why the Iron Bone Marrow technique burned like it hated him.
"Done? You didn't even start yet. One second," the master said and walked inside the newly built house, leaving Kael confused.
He went in without urgency, as if Kael could wait forever. The door, if you could call it that, a heavy plank on leather hinges, swung and thudded shut. Kael stood there staring at it, then at the cracked boulder, then at the dust around his feet.
Some time later, he returned with two books in hand. A small one, barely a hundred pages. One of them red as blood, and the other cream white.
