"To think that you've grown so much in these 2 years, it's almost frightening Aracchi... You might really win the tournament!"

Fyodor spoke to Arakan in a tone that sounded both jovial and serious at the same time. However, it was sensible to say such a thing. Compared to the scrawny boy two years ago that arrived in Chiho, the boy standing in front of Fyodor almost towered to his head and his muscles although not exceptionally huge was defined. The years of grueling training he had done and heavy lifting of the rice sacks daily built his physique. Arakan's hair had been grown out too, tied to a man bun that was spiked atop the back of his head. Carved across his lean build was scars and several bruises that were healed, leaving a discoloration on his skin.

"Ryugyu has been the champion for two years now... The strongest swordsman in the East. I think I can cut him down Fyo."

"Hahahah! that's funny because two years ago, you were saying how you wouldn't be able to beat him!"

"I've pushed myself very hard these 2 years and dedicated my entire life to the way of the sword. Even you said I could win the tournament back then! I just can't see myself losing..."

Arakan's voice, which was now much deeper than it ever was before did not sound proud, it sounded honest. By now, Ryugyu was already the forefront of the Takeguchi School. His grandfather, Date Takeguchi was the man who created the style and took part in every battle under Lord Terukada and won every single one of them, helping the legion conquer at least two thirds of the land in the east under their control now. He was known as one of the most fearsome warriors in Nippon's history. Ryugyu's father further improved the style and went undefeated against every other sword school in the territory they went up against. The only 2 schools that managed to rival the style were the Kumogawa and Hosoku, both equally powerful but even then, could not hold a candle to the Takeguchi sword school. With it's popularity in the East, the style managed to spread it's wings to neighbouring islands due to their influence. The style rose to prominence one of the big 3 sword schools in the east. Many consider it to be the strongest sword style in these lands. Now, Ryugyu has been dominating the most prominent competition in the region thrice in a row at only 20 years of age.

"Enough of your blabbering kid, show me what you're made of!"

With that, Fyodor angled to Arakan's left. Since Arakan had a southpaw stance and had the weight of his blade gravitating the left, it would prove to be difficult for him to defend the strike. Arakan was aware of his strategy though and shifted away from the agile beast coming at him.

"Good one Aracchi!"

From Arakan's point of view, Fyodor's missed strike would not be able to formulate into any technique as his momentum was bringing his lower body towards the ground. But Fyodor was no push over, his legs that were stiffly planted to the ground since the beginning of the bout made use of his falling motion to trigger a spin. Retracting his sword towards himself while flaring his elbow, Fyodor spun 360 degrees towards Arakan in an awkward angle, aiming to split Arakan's forehead with the force of his elbow. Arakan who was helpless against the attack managed to come up with an instinctive manouver to block it by turning his katana horizontally and tucked his head under his chin to brace for impact. It was his instincts that took him two years to develop that saved him. Just when he thought the nightmare was over by blocking the hit, Fyodor smiled at him.

Arakan after fending off Fyodor's elbow was half squatting and pushed back, creating a good distance between them so he could recover. Big mistake. Fyodor was prepared for that outcome and swung his sword in a orchestrated curvature. The blade first rose diagonally upwards from his right waist fluidly targeting Arakan's neck but then curved in a fraction of a second and viciously sliced in a straight line along his abdomen. His move was akin to a flowing river that contained shards of hard boulders that could smash through anything. In sheer desperation, Arakan snapped his sword in half by shoving it downwards against Fyodor's fast moving weapon. There was no thought behind the move, Arakan simply sacrificed his weapon to not get finished by Fyodor. His balance lost, he collapsed onto the hard ground and rolled away from Fyodor's centre line. It was a technique that Fyodor taught him, to always move away from the opponent's centre line when your weapon had fallen to the ground. This delayed the opposition from having a clean downward strike and forced him to adjust his foot placement to swing the sword accurately. The following move Arakan was taught in that position was to hook the opponent's leg and reach for the closest weapon to take him down. However, this was useless against Fyodor.

"You really expecting me to fall a trap I created? Damn it Aracchi, I thought you were smarter than this!"

His two legs were rooted to the ground and sword still in hand, Fyodor stood over Arakan's lying body still when Arakan attempted to goad him to deliver a downward slash to take him down. While Fyodor scratched the back of his head with the tip of the wooden sword, Arakan moved backwards to grab a half of his sword and positioned himself to attack.

"It's not over yet Fyo, I'm gonna beat you this time."

Arakan took a huge leap and feinted a direct stab that pierced the air inches away from Fyodor's eyes. Although Fyodor could see that it was an obviously telegraphed move, he had no choice but to lean to either the right or left to evade and counter Arakan. The both of them were aware of what happens next but Fyodor was at least three steps ahead of Arakan currently. As Fyodor leaned to the right with his sword on his left hand, all his vital points was clear as day and left to exposed. Realising that the most devastating move was a knee to Fyodor's gut, he anchored his two hands on Fyodor's neck and raised his knees to smother him with a gut wrenching knee strike.

"Really? You can't beat me like that. Try again boy."

Fyodor's response set Arakan's heart ablaze but his emotions could only do so much. Fyodor was not amused by Arakan's technique as it was too slow. The knee strike was defended smoothly by Fyodor by reaching his arms out towards Arakan's lowered back and pulling the attack straight towards his abdomen to nullify it's effects before it even reached its intended trajectory. Although it hurt, it was nothing compared to the pain that Fyodor endured from the battles before this. Capitalising on the position Arakan was in, he simply swung his legs like a stream of crashing water and struck down Arakan's only leg that kept him standing after his failed knee attack, sweeping him off the ground.

Bang! Arakan's back smashed into the hard ground. He was almost like a tree that was chopped off its bark and left to fall. With that, Fyodor extended his hand that gripped the wooden sword above Arakan's head and released it onto him. There was no pain. Only humiliation. As Fyodor saunted away, punching his hand upwards and hanging his fist in the air, he entered the shop leaving Arakan feeling defeated.

"FYODOR! I want to win the tournament! I need the strength to beat Ryugyu , you have to help me. I trusted you two years ago so please..."

"Get enough rest tonight... you're training in the Miwaki Forest for a week before the tournament begins... Bid your farewells to Reiko and Mr Takazura too."

"Farewells? Your making this sound like I'm gonna die there!"

"Well if the bear living in the cave there feels hungry, it's best to consider yourself dead already. I'm sure Ryugyu hasn't fought a bear before!"

Before Arakan could respond, Fyodor was already on his way to see Kouji who was busy sorting out the dishes. Under the moonlit sky, Arakan peered into the darkness. There was no doubt that his sword skills were improving. More hits were landed against Fyodor every time they sparred and his defense by now was almost impregnable against the common swordsmen. However, in exchange, there was no hunger in his strikes. He was too comfortable with the routine that he went through and stopped trying to surpass his limits after he broke through it once. The result of it? An uneasy feeling that clawed through his heart whenever he fought. Hopefully, the solitude of the forested hills could usher growth in him. He needed a hurdle to jump over and at the right time, Fyodor provided it to him. That night, he slept well, optimistic that his training in the wilderness would spring his progress up and away from the miniscule gains he had been making in these past few months both mentally and physically.

For the first time in ages, Arakan woke up after the sun had risen. If this was any other day, the time now would be when he ended his arduous training. The smell of freshly steamed rice forced its way into Arakan's nose. At first, he thought it was Kouji who was serving the rice in bowls on the dining table but it was Fyodor. A rare sight for the entire household. In fact, the scene was so shocking that the straight faced Kouji even let out a mirthful snigger. The musclehead cooking was the last thing everyone expected. Kouji was suspicious.

"What's with the sudden kindness? Got ulterior motives?"

"Fuck off. I'm a nice guy you know! Plus, this is gonna be Arakan's last decent meal this week."

"He's only 14, you're obviously going too hard on him. Personally I disagree with this nonsense! He's not gonna gain anything from this..."

Kouji made his opinion known. He was the only sensible man in the shop. The notion of sending a child to the dangerous forest with nothing to protect him except a decomposing sword his father used in wars decades ago was far too cruel. However, Arakan wanted this experience. He might end up starving to death if he gets a severe injury and the threat of infections loomed before him. This was the only way for him to grow stronger, to expose himself to near death experiences. He gulped down the remaining water down his throat, probably the last time he drank water from a cup this week and left the shop to visit Reiko.

"What are you saying! I know you want to get stronger but there are other ways... That place is far too dangerous, the number of hunters who never came back from there is outrageous! Besides, there are rumours of evil Tengu living inside it! Don't do it Arakan."

Reiko's mellow voice mixed in with an undetectable pinch of anger consoled Arakan, the pleasant sound it emitted was followed by the tugging of  the cloth on his shoulder. She truly cherished the times they spent together idling around the city after she returned from school and wanted those times to last forever, however,  Arakan did not even hesitate to tell her how he was willing to let go of her and risk his life in pursuit of becoming a better swordsman. Beads of envy sunk to the bottom of her heart as she felt that Arakan had put his training before their friendship. Arakan kept silent for a good two seconds, staring deeply into the crowds that were walking to and fro in front of them, some shopping for goods while others going about their daily routines.

"Listen Reiko, the only reason I continue to live is to get stronger and even if it's just once in this lifetime, I'll have to be the strongest. If I wound up dead from this alone then my body simply isn't strong enough for this task and I'll train even harder than I am doing now in my next life. Don't worry, I'll pull through this and win the championship. You need to believe in me."

Arakan's calm and collected tone was enough to force down any arguments that Reiko had to plead him to not go with this ridiculous plan. He was serious about it and only saw death as a precursor that he was too weak in the first place. At this point, there was no use doing or saying anything to stop him. With that, Reiko sighed in defeat. There were teardrops that stagnated in between her eyes but she wiped it off with the side of her fingers and got up to leave the place. 

"Don't you dare die Arakan."

Those were the words Reiko last muttered before trailing away. Arakan never replied, after all he knew there was a higher chance of him dying than making back home alive. Meanwhile, Mr Takazura was not surprised at all upon hearing Arakan's insane training plan. He did not even bother to tell him to not go as he knew that Arakan only cared about fighting. Even while crafting and shaping ceramic pots, he would talk about how he wanted to be as malleable as the pots that were taking shape in order to slip through the guards of his opponents, unintentionally creating profound, philosophical topics to the customers in the shop to think about. Patting him on the back and whispering a soft 'good luck' in his ears, Mr Takazura sent him off from the shop.

As Arakan dawdled towards the meeting point that he, Fyodor and Kouji had promised which happened to be at the edge of the city's entrance, he stared deeply into the palm of his hands. Its surface was severely callused and below the starting point of each his fingers were layers of thick skin that were formed as his skin tries to protect itself from the pressure and friction of him handling the rough sword in his hands. It was the reflection of his hard work. All that is left is the tournament, in which he plans to decimate every single one of his opponents to face the reigning champion, Ryugyu. From a distance, he saw the two men on the carriage, waiting for him. One of them with a very concerned face while the other glowing in excitement.

"Did they tell you about evil Tengu that might try to kill you? That forest does give me the creeps too... Relax Aracchi, you'll survive!"

"Damn Fyo, you really know how to scare me... And Tengus don't exist! They are just myths people created to scare children! I'm sure I'll live through this."

"Scare children? You're a child yourself!"

Throughout the conversation, Kouji was silent. It was apparent that he was blanketed with fret and the decision Arakan made rebelled against his conscience. However, seeing Arakan's seriousness in his tone and dedication towards his training, he eventually gave up on telling him otherwise. The three of them made their way to Miwaki forest which was about a half an hour trip from Chiho consisting of a snaking path upwards. The Miwaki Forest was located in the hilly and almost, mountainous region surrounding Chiho. It was separated from the other lumps of vegetations with a small sign behind a hulking Cryptomeria tree that stood before the carriage. The decrepit sign wrote 'Miwaki Forest: Enter with caution' with a fading black ink that was almost non-visible with the edges of the sign eaten by termites. There were no foot path that was left by others who entered the terrain as the forest was no longer a place that hunters would enter anymore. Hence, the only possible way for Arakan to set foot into the dense wilderness is through ascending into the upwards slope of the forest. 

"We'll be here in a week. Remember, if you ever give up and leave this place before that... Consider us strangers. I won't teach you anything anymore because the training period you went through did not come to fruition. Survive Arakan."

Kouji still remained silent and Fyodor waved at Arakan after departing him a short speech of encouragement. Despite his harsh words, he would still teach Arakan the way of the sword and expected Arakan to leave the forest after one to two days. Even he realised that staying in a dense forest that had nothing but vegetation and wild animals for a week was too great of a task even for him. Arakan was only a 14 year old child. That thought never left him and he planned to come back to the entrance of the forest on a daily basis to see if Arakan would eventually give up on the impossible task. It would definitely be possible for him to survive if he was aware of the presence of a small stream that lead to a waterfall but the downside was, it would take Arakan about a whole three days to meet it if he knew the direction of the stream. As for food, Arakan had to dig into rotting barks to reach for beetle grubs but that would only last him for so long.

"We're checking on him tomorrow. I don't want him dying in the middle of some forest, if you refuse to go, I'm coming here myself."

"Kouji, I'm not that cruel you know... I'm planning to do the same. He's still a kid so my guess is that he would return here in about a day or two. I told him to mark the trees so he knows how to go back, last night, he should be fine."

"If he ends up dead, I'm going to have to kill you Fyo."

"Go ahead old man, your 'grandson' is tough enough to survive a day or two in there. There's no need to worry."

Kouji and Fyodor returned to Chiho, both of them wondering if Arakan has the spirit and guts to tough it out in the forest. Arakan who had just hiked up the forest begun to engrave both sides of the huge trees that he came across with deep diagonal crosses. That way, he would not get lost and knew how to escape in times of danger. There was not a shred of fear in his limbs as he ventured deeper and deeper into the sea of trees. Before the expedition, he had filled himself with plenty of water to last at least a day and was out to look for a clearing or cave that he could settle down and rest. Armed with his late father's sword and dressed in a kimono that was patched with the filth of spider webs, dead ants and soil from the jungle surrounding him, the boy had an ambition in him to get stronger than he had ever been. The Eastern Swordfighting Champonship was within sight.