The sparring dojo is open to the water-lit air, wide and empty. Gaedric crouches near the centre, stretching his legs with calm focus.

  Ami stands nearby, visibly tense, glancing around as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment.

  “Erm… Gaedric-sensei?” Ami asks hesitantly. “Are we… allowed to be here right now?”

  Gaedric doesn’t look up. “Why are you asking?”

  “Because lessons have already started. Won’t the other teachers think it’s strange if they see us using the sparring dojo during class time?”

  “One of the privileges of being SLT,” Gaedric replies casually, shifting into another stretch. “Think of this as a special lesson. For both of you.”

  He glances at Ami—then at Gadeon, who stands off to the side with his arms folded, expression unreadable.

  A technique that can fight against Flexing?

  Is he lying?

  And if he isn’t… why hasn’t he shown me this before?

  Has he just been wasting my time?

  Gadeon thinks bitterly.

  Gaedric straightens slightly and raises a hand, palm open toward Ami.

  “Alright. You come at me first. When you’re ready.”

  Ami swallows.

  He steps back—and then, the moment he settles into a stance, something in him snaps into place.

  The nervousness vanishes.

  His posture sharpens. His eyes harden.

  A raw, killing intent bleeds into the air.

  The shift is so sudden it sends a chill down Gadeon’s spine.

  “Isn’t this just sparring…?” Gadeon mutters. “He looks like he wants to kill him.”

  “Sheesh,” Gaedric sighs, completely unfazed.

  “I said don’t hold back—but that doesn’t mean losing yourself to bloodlust.”

  Ami blinks. “What… what do you mean?”

  “Fighting isn’t about wanting to kill someone,” Gaedric continues calmly. “Martial arts. Flexing. Combat in general—they’re all arts.”

  That’s bullshit, Gadeon thinks.

  The point of fighting is to hurt your opponent.

  Not necessarily kill—but crush them. Break them. Hurt them enough that they can’t fight back.

  That’s dominance. That’s what winning means.

  “But you told me not to hold back,” Ami says, confused. “How can I go all out without trying to hurt you?”

  “Ami,” Gaedric says firmly.

  Just his voice—nothing more.

  And somehow, Ami’s body obeys.

  The murderous tension drains away, his expression settling back into something human.

  “The aim of martial arts isn’t to hurt your opponent,” Gaedric says.

  “Hurting can happen—but it isn’t the goal.”

  Both Ami and Gadeon stare at him.

  “Really?” Ami asks, curiosity replacing confusion.

  “That’s dumb,” Gadeon mutters flatly. “Then how do you win?”

  Gaedric chuckles. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I hate losing. I absolutely despise it. I’d do almost anything to win. It’s one of my bad flaws”

  “Winning is a flaw now?” Gadeon scoffs internally.

  He hates to lose but doesn’t want to hurt his opponent?

  At this point, I’m genuinely worried about his common sense.

  “Hurting should never be the purpose of a fight,” Gaedric says calmly, his voice steady as both boys listen.

  “It should be a byproduct.”

  He straightens slightly.

  “And here’s the funny thing about that — it’s incredibly easy to hurt someone.”

  His gaze shifts to Gadeon.

  “So let me ask you both something. Right now, what’s the quickest and easiest way to hurt your opponent?”

  Ami hesitates. “U-um… punching his face?” He glances at Gadeon, unsure.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Gadeon exhales sharply, clearly irritated at being dragged into this.

  “I don’t know,” he mutters. “Punching you really hard in the face.”

  Gaedric tilts his head.

  “Why not the balls?”

  Immediately, Ami clamps his hands over his groin.

  Gadeon stiffens, his face twisting into visible discomfort.

  “What the hell?!” Gadeon snaps — but he freezes when he realises Gaedric isn’t joking.

  Gaedric’s expression is completely serious.

  “Why not?” he repeats. “It would hurt far more. People train to protect their faces — but most forget to protect their groin, because they assume no one will go there.”

  He steps forward slowly.

  “Why? Honour?” He scoffs. “Or fear of being judged?”

  His tone darkens.

  “Or I could gouge your eyes. Crush your throat. Bite you. Tear skin. Break fingers.”

  The list keeps coming.

  Each word strips away the calm image Gaedric usually carries — his expression twisting into something raw, almost unrecognisable.

  Ami feels his chest tighten.

  Gadeon, without realising it, takes a step back.

  Gaedric stops.

  “…Why are you looking at me like that, Ami?” he asks, almost curious.

  “You should’ve seen your earlier.”

  “I—I wasn’t going to do any of that!” Ami blurts out. “I’d never—!”

  “How do you know?” Gaedric interrupts.

  Ami freezes. “Huh…?”

  “Why are you so confident you wouldn’t?” Gaedric presses.

  “If your mindset in a fight is to hurt me.”

  Ami opens his mouth — nothing comes out.

  “If I cornered you,” Gaedric continues, voice low, “and the only way out was biting me… or blinding me…”

  He leans closer.

  “You’re telling me you wouldn’t do it?”

  Ami’s shoulders slump. His gaze drops to the floor.

  “I… I’m sorry, Gaedric-sensei.”

  Gadeon says nothing.

  But the look on his face betrays him — wide-eyed, unsettled.

  For the first time, something he believed unquestioningly has cracked.

  Is that why sports like boxing or MMA have rules… to protect the fighters?

  The thought flickers through Gadeon’s mind.

  “Ah, you’re good, Ami,” Gaedric says suddenly, his tone light again. “I was teaching you — not punishing you.”

  In an instant, he’s back to his relaxed, almost playful self.

  The shift catches Ami off guard. A moment ago, Gaedric felt terrifying. Now he feels… safe.

  “S-so…” Gadeon mutters before he realises he’s speaking out loud. His eyes widen. He quickly covers his mouth. “How do you win, then?”

  Gaedric’s smile deepens.

  “If you fight the way I described earlier,” he says calmly, “then it’s no longer two men fighting — it’s two rabid animals.”

  He straightens slightly.

  “The true objective of a fight isn’t to hurt. It’s to outperform your opponent — within a rule set.”

  Gadeon puffs out his chest. “That’s basically what I said earlier. See? I already know this stuff.”

  “So… following the rules of a fight?” Ami asks.

  “Not necessarily,” Gaedric replies. “You’ll face many fights in life where there are no rules. But that doesn’t mean you abandon your integrity.”

  He taps his temple.

  “The rule set exists here. The rules you commit to. Lines you refuse to cross — no biting, no eye-gouging, no aiming for the groin.”

  His voice grows firmer.

  “And to uphold those rules, you need a peaceful, focused mind. Not one ruled by hatred, rage, or the desire to destroy.”

  He pauses.

  “The flesh always seeks pain, domination, destruction. But the spirit seeks restraint, clarity, control.”

  “Flesh and spirit?” Ami and Gadeon say at the exact same time.

  They glance at each other.

  Ami smiles. “Jinx! You owe me candy.”

  Gadeon scowls. “Stop being childish.”

  Gaedric chuckles softly.

  “That,” he says, “is what it means to be a man.”

  Ami’s eyes shine.

  “Imagine having dominion over your own mind. Imagine standing on a battlefield where your opponent breaks every rule — and still defeating them without becoming them.”

  He spreads his hands.

  “You think rules limit you. In truth, they guide you.”

  Ami tilts his head. “So… it’s like handicapping yourself?”

  Gaedric smiles wider.

  “Yep. You can think of it like that,” Gaedric says. “But don’t see it as a handicap. If anything, it makes you stronger. It squeezes skill out of you. Skill wouldn’t matter as much if everything was just brute force and hurting your opponent.”

  “Ahhh… that makes sense,” Ami says, eyes lighting up. “I get it.”

  “I’m so confused…” Gadeon mutters under his breath.

  Gaedric hears him anyway.

  “Confused?” he asks gently. “About what?”

  Gadeon doesn’t answer out loud.

  What the fuck… Earlier this man wasn’t making sense at all. And now suddenly—he’s making too much sense.

  Was he always this smart?

  Why don’t I know this? I’m twenty-five years old and I don’t know any of this shit.

  It pisses him off.

  “Gadeon?” Gaedric asks again. “You’re not going to say anything?”

  Gadeon shakes his head dismissively.

  Gaedric glances at Ami, shrugs with a knowing smile, and continues.

  “Another way to win a fight is by imposing your strategy onto your opponent while denying theirs. Fighting isn’t just physical — it’s mental.”

  He gestures as he speaks.

  “Will this punch reach them? What if I’m a little short? Should I kick instead? If I do, how does that affect my balance? Where will I land?”

  Ami listens intently.

  “You might think that’s too much thinking during a fight,” Gaedric continues. “But fighting without thinking is far more confusing.”

  “I think… I get that,” Ami says slowly.

  “Control space. Timing. Balance. Leverage,” Gaedric says. “Think of it as multitasking. And finally, a fight is won by forcing a submission, a knockout, or making your opponent give up.”

  He finishes speaking.

  Ami looks completely blown away.

  “This is crazy… absolutely crazy,” he says. “So I don’t have to hurt people when I fight? I don’t have to be angry, or put on a tough act to be strong?”

  “Of course not,” Gaedric replies warmly.

  Ami beams.

  “I’m so glad,” he says honestly. “I was starting to hate fighting… I hate seeing people in pain.”

  Gadeon blinks.

  Does he really think about his opponents every time he fights? he wonders.

  “Always remember this, Ami,” Gaedric says. “If the moment calls for it, it’s far cooler to defeat someone while you’re calm and level-headed — while they’re shouting, angry, and losing control.”

  He smiles.

  “They’ll look foolish in the end. Don’t you think?”

  Ami smiles back. “Yeah.”

  Gaedric’s expression shifts. Serious now.

  “Lecture’s over.”

  He steps into a stance.

  “Let’s spar.”

  This time, Ami’s face holds no bloodlust. No rage.

  Only excitement.

  A bright, eager grin spreads across his face as a thrilling aura radiates from him — so strong Gadeon can feel it.

  “I like that look,” Gaedric says, smirking.

  “Thank you, Gaedric-sensei!” Ami replies.