The Greatest Fight [progression cultivation isekai]

Fight Like a Geezer

Roa had a sad look in his eyes since Rosso did not show up when they were invited to the top of the tree for the next lesson.

"What's the matter with you?" asked the old guy.

"I just want to go back—go home, back to the way things were before," he explained, sulking.

" Home isn't where you're from. It's where your attempts to escape finally stop—that's home."

Roa shrugged as they reached a large, circular, wooden patio. He was tired of the old man's profound answers and stood there in silence, unmotivated to learn anything.

"From now on, your training is about to get serious. I will teach you how to fight and how to defend yourself with your body, and your aura. Now, take a staff and hit me over the head with it."

Roa hesitated—but someone else did not.

"About damn time," Rosso said from out of nowhere, unleashing a blow down onto the straw hat. To his astonishment, however, the strike rebounded with a clang as a faint forcefield flickered, shielding the elder's nogging.

"Rosso! You changed your mind," said the boy, his eyes lighting up.

"I didn't want to pass on beating up the old man," he said as he unleashed another strike with the staff; the master calmly raised his arm, and the weapon once again bounced off the forcefield.

"What you just witnessed is called the Scutum. It is a Gift that uses your aura to protect your body. The stronger the hit, the more aura it uses. Run out of energy, and that hit will go straight through," Vesper explained.

"Just like the Shadow did during the fight with Nirvana," added Roa.

"The Shadows know many Gifts—most of them are able to tap into immense auras, inhuman speed, and monstruous strength. To make matters worse, they also have the knowledge and organization of the Old Order on their side. We call their arts the Dark Gifts, manipulations of aura that no Jumper seems to be able to master. Examples of these Dark Gifts are Reset, Brute Force, Hide, and Sudden Death. The first one—I am sure you have gotten acquainted with," he said as Roa looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. "Brute Force is the unleashing of immense amounts of energy with a punch or a kick. I've seen Shadows demolish entire skyscrapers with one hit. Hide is the Gift they use to disappear, cloaking their bodies with temporary invisibility. Now—the last one you must watch out for, most of all. It drains the user of most of their energy, leaving them unable to continue the fight, but—if the hit lands—you're gone, dust in the wind—hence the name. You never try to block a Sudden Death hit—you try to evade it. Then, you counter, finishing your enemy off."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"That's insane."

The master warmed up with a few roundhouse kicks and lightning-fast punches.

"When you combine your aura with a martial art, you have a chance to become a lean, mean, fighting machine. You will learn the Scutum to defend yourselves—learn it, until it becomes second nature to you. I will also teach you Durth-Khah, an ancient martial art of the Dnotekians, a fierce race of fighters from Demon's Bathtub, an acid lake in Inthernia—a world filled with powerful monsters and great warriors."

From sunrise to sunset, the students were forced to stay vigilant. Class was always in session. The master attacked them relentlessly, handling both at once. Any lapse in focus resulted in a swift strike to the head or elsewhere. Even their beds offered no sanctuary—Vesper would storm in during the night, delivering blow after blow as they desperately tried to get some rest.

"It's not fair! How are we supposed to improve if we can't even sleep?" complained Rosso, after the fifth day without closing his eyes.

"You think the Shadows will care about your beauty sleep? That's exactly when they will strike, you weakling," Vesper bellowed, following up with a punch so powerful that the student flew through the wall of the shed, and landed on the strawberries.

"Fix the shed!" commanded the teacher in a harsh tone, "and the garden."

"You did this, you insane fool."

Rosso lay there with a furious look in his eyes, surrounded by planks of wood. The student leapt up in a rage and charged the old man head on, screaming. The master skillfully dodged every single strike, too slow and obvious for any to land, placing his pupil in an embarrassing chokehold.

"You let your emotions cloud your instincts. You'll get yourself killed, or captured and sent to some prison world, if you continue this way—foolish boy."

Weeks turned into months, and their bodies, now leaner and sculpted, were also completely covered in scratches, wounds and bandages.

"He's going to kill us, man," complained Rosso in a worried tone, tending to a broken finger.

The master appeared out of nowhere, laughing like a maniac, as he seized Roa from behind. He hurled him with tremendous force against the oasis' wall. The stones shattered on impact, tumbling into a heap of rubble. Rosso sprinted towards his buried friend, dreading the worst.

"What have you done? He's dead, you asshole!" he screamed, scrambling to dig through the pile.

To both his and Roa's astonishment, a flicker of light shot through the dust like sparks of electricity. The Sunflower emerged unscathed, pushing the heavy, moss-covered stones off his body.

"I did it—I think I did it. I managed to block the hit with my aura—not my body. I took no damage," the boy said, his incredulous eyes wide with excitement as he sat up.

The teacher bowed and placed his fist in his palm.

"Now you're getting it, boy. When you let go, you allow your instinct to protect your body, instead of doing it with your mind. Very good."

"Why can't I do it, then? I'm trying just as hard. I still can't even manifest the Compass," Rosso complained with his arms wide open.

"That's because you don't let go. You walk around like you're some—emotional bellhop boy, dragging years of baggage."

Rosso looked down. He did not say a word for the rest of the night.

"If you want to make it in life—get strong. There is no good place for the weak in a brutal world. Even Mother Nature reveres those who can adapt, and those who can overcome. Be just, be good, be all that and more—but none of it will be worth much—unless you are strong."