Rayfe and Silas stood some ten meters apart on the grass field.

  “Let me tell you. Getting good at fighting is going to take a few years. Rescuing your sister is going to take a few more. This is the fastest way - that is, if you have natural talent. Fighting - it’s completely different from testing out your echo. If testing it was a walk, then using it in battle will be a full sprint.”

  Rayfe swallowed.

  “Three… Two… One…”

  Rayfe lifted his small fists, anticipating a harsh blow to the ribs or a knockout punch to the head.

  But nothing of that sort came.

  A shadow arrow hovered inches from his face.

  Silas stood at the exact same spot. His feet hadn’t moved an inch.

  “You’re dead.”

  “What…” Rayfe didn’t have time to react at all.

  The arrow melted into darkness.

  “Let’s try it again. Use your echo.”

  This time, Rayfe imagined the door appearing in front of him, in the way of the first blow like a shield.

  Thunk.

  The door held.

  “You’re dead.” Silas repeated.

  “What? No, I’m not…”

  Rayfe turned around. A second arrow hovered behind him.

  “This isn’t fair! You… you’re so much stronger than me.” Rayfe complained.

  Silas gave a small sigh.

  “Nothing’s fair, kid. Those bandits - did they fight fair?”

  “When you hunt monsters - do they fight fair?”

  Silas looked Rayfe dead in the eyes.

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  “Do they care if you’re weak or strong? No. They don’t. There isn't anything fair and unfair in this world. There’s only the strong and the weak. The strong trample the weak. And the weak… they get trampled on by the strong.”

  “I’ve seen it happen, Rayfe. You’ve seen it happen. That’s why… to beat those people… to save your sister… you have to stop being weak. You have to become strong.”

  Rayfe fell silent.

  Strong… Strong… Strong enough to save Selene. Strong enough to end the Red Goblins. To bring peace.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll become strong. No matter how many years it takes.”

  “Good. Get ready. We’re doing it again.”

  -

  “You’re dead.” Silas repeated. He had been repeating the same phrase for the past hour, defeating Rayfe in countless fights - if he could call them fights.

  His feet had not moved from their spot. Even when Rayfe stopped to rest, to recover his mana, he stood there watching like a sentinel. They had fought for countless duels - each not lasting more than a few seconds. Rayfe had rested many times, his mana completely depleting every few battles.

  “Ten seconds. That one was the longest so far.”

  Rayfe gave a dejected groan and collapsed on the ground again.

  “Get up. We’re going back to the inn. We’re coming back tomorrow to spar again.”

  “Again? How long do I have to do this for?” Rayfe asked, though he already knew the answer in his heart.

  “Until you can land a hit on me.”

  “That’s gonna take years!”

  “Learn fast, then.”

  Silas walked past him without turning his head, back in the direction of the village.

  -

  Every day Rayfe woke before the sun rose, and for the whole day Rayfe tried to survive Silas’s blows. Every few weeks, they travelled out of the town they stayed in and into another one, without any particular route. Some people recognised Silas as the Shadow Hunter, some didn’t.

  Rayfe’s ten seconds turned into minutes, then slowly, he managed to go on the offensive, making Silas move his feet for the first time. He took punches, kicks and sweeps, landing on the floor countless times a day.

  But throughout all the sweat and the blood he shed, he remembered. He remembered the day his ordinary, peaceful life was shattered. He remembered his parents’ faces as they fell to the ground and never got up again. He remembered Selene’s voice as she called for his help while he was frozen in shock.

  Rayfe became taller, stronger. His voice slowly lost that childlike innocent edge. His body slowly put on more muscle as he fought. He became faster and more agile. He understood the techniques of battle, and most importantly he understood his echo. He controlled it more smoothly than ever. The gates appeared and disappeared almost at will now, without concentrating. He could also slowly manifest bigger rooms, though Silas told him that he had to consume more mana gems to truly improve his echo. But ultimately, he had grown.

  The sun was high, the hot weather making Rayfe sweat. He had ditched his old village clothes that had become too small for him, replacing them with a plain black shirt and pants, as well as light leather armour. He carried around a sword that he kept inside his Genesis Gate.

  An eighteen year old Rayfe deflected the first shadow arrow with his sword, then sidestepped another two. He ducked under the third one before lunging at Silas with his sword.

  For the past eight years, Silas had changed as well. He became older, the first sign of wrinkles forming on his face. He was almost fifty now. But his reactions, his fighter’s instincts, had not dulled. In fact, he was sharper than ever. He caught Rayfe’s sword with a liquefied shadow rope, pulling it towards him. Off-balance, Rayfe used the momentum to aim an overhand punch at his face.

  Silas didn’t dodge. He swung. The rope pulled taut, dragging Rayfe off course. Rayfe crashed into a tree, pain shooting through his back. But he didn’t fall. He stood, charging once more. The impact had dislodged the rope from his sword. As he charged, a door appeared right under Silas’s feet. Silas’s weight caused the door to open beneath him, tripping him momentarily before he produced a shield out of shadow, blocking Rayfe’s strike. He pushed the shield upwards against Rayfe’s sword, deflecting it off before he jumped out of Rayfe’s room. Three shadow daggers instantly flew towards Rayfe.

  Rayfe opened the door in front of him, the three daggers clattering in his room before he instantly opened them above Silas’s head, the daggers dropping above his head. Silas stopped them, and launched them at Rayfe once more. But he was already gone, using the distraction to get closer to him.

  His blade nicked the edge of Silas’s hat, watching it flutter to the floor as he sliced again. Silas stepped back again, and while Rayfe reached the end of his swing, he stepped in to deliver a blow, but Rayfe had dropped his sword into his Room, and released it above Silas’s head, like he did with the daggers. Silas cursed and deflected the falling blade instead.

  Thwack!

  Rayfe’s fist connected with Silas’s jaw.

  Silas stumbled back a few steps.

  Tchick.

  Rayfe’s blade sank to the ground.

  All was silent except the rustling of leaves and the panting of the two fighters.

  “Damn… Not bad. You pass.”