Martial Arts Worlds

Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

Kiernan, with his hands inside his pockets, walked down the empty arena with the spectator stands surrounding him like a fortress of silence.

"It sure is a different feeling when there are actually people sitting there. It is so deafeningly quiet now."

Kiernan arrived at the big ring, which had been repaired after the quarterfinals matches, and slowly walked to the center of the ring, feeling the weight of expectation settle on his shoulders.

He looked around and imagined the sight of hundreds of thousands of spectators shouting in his way, urging him to win or lose.

"Hey, who are you?!"

A sudden shout startled him as it was quiet only a second away, with his own thoughts accompanying him.

Kiernan turned around and saw a security guard approaching him with a serious look on his face.

One of his hands was touching a taser on his waist holster, ready to draw if necessary.

When Kiernan turned around and revealed his face, the security guard recognized him as he pointed his flashlight at him.

It was a face that he had seen many times during these past few days.

"I-it is you… Why have you come here, Sir Kiernan?"

'I don't know why they keep calling me Sir Kiernan. It is a term of respect in Tiamut, I think?'

Kiernan then quickly explained that he couldn't sleep, so he just came to the stadium out of a whim.

"Uhm, I see. I am not supposed to allow anyone inside the stadium, but… I can make an exception for you."

"I appreciate it."

Kiernan said with a nod.

The security guard nodded and headed back to his office to keep an eye on the cameras. That's how he found out that there was someone who shouldn't have been inside the stadium.

However, since his children were huge fans of Kiernan, he decided to let it slide and not report the intruder.

"Hmm…"

Kiernan crouched down to the concrete ground of the fighting ring and knocked at it with his knuckles to determine its thickness.

He then pressed his forefinger against it, and then with a flex of his finger, he stabbed it through the concrete as easily as if it were butter.

'It doesn't look like the fighting ring is made of any special concrete of sort. Therefore, I can still stab my hand through it.'

Kiernan stood up, removed the concrete dust off his finger, and then pressed his hands together before closing his eyes.

He saw nothing but darkness, but then, slowly, he started to imagine the stadium around him, and instead of it being empty, there were now roaring audience members.

In front of him, Zachary roared like a wounded lion and threw an overhead punch that could easily push his head off his shoulders.

With his eyes closed, Kiernan used his Rendering Edge against the imaginary punch and steered it away from his face.

It was smooth!

He hadn't used his Rendering Edge like this before.

It was a technique that pretty much had few modes of sorts. The base form was just parrying the attacks away, which was weak towards powerful opponents.

The second mode was smooth and controlled Rendering Edge. It was something he hadn't used yet in this new life of his.

It was because he lacked that kind of control, as he wasn't in complete control of his body. It had been feeling foreign, like it didn't truly believe him.

However, through his constant training in the past year, he had managed to reach that same kind of control that he had back on Earth.

'With this, it doesn't matter if Zachary is much stronger than me. I'll overwhelm him with my defense and counterattacks.'

"You're still obsessed with that defense nonsense, Kiernan?"

A strange voice echoed through the darkness.

Kiernan's eyes widened in shock, and he turned around, only to find himself face-to-face with a gray-haired old man, who was only able to stand with the help of his walking cane.

He had strangely gentle eyes that seemed to hold a wealth of wisdom and experience, and his voice was oddly soothing.

"You're not real. You're dead."

Kiernan said with his eyes shaking as if he had seen a ghost, which might not be too far from the truth.

"Oh, yes. I am indeed dead. You didn't really help me to avoid that fate, did you?"

The old man said, the tone of his voice changing to one of deep anger.

"Master Ichiro…"

Kiernan narrowed his eyes.

"Don't forget my teachings, young Kiernan. Should I refresh your memory?"

Master Ichiro said, and then suddenly touched the spot between Kiernan's brows, which forced his eyes to roll back to his skull.

…

Earth, sixty years ago.

Within inside a well-lit dojo, an old man sat cross-legged on his knee-high table and poured some green tea into two cups.

"Argh…"

Outside the dojo, by a small, light blue pond, a powerful-looking man was handstanding on one hand, the sweat trickling down his bulging muscles.

"How… much longer… master?"

Kiernan suffered to speak his words.

"Five more seconds, young one. Is twenty-four hours of one-armed handstands too much for you?"

Master Ichiro asked with a smile.

"Tch…"

Kiernan clicked his tongue.

"Four…"

"Three…"

"Two…"

"One…"

Kiernan flipped himself over and landed perfectly on his feet.

"Come drink tea with me, young one."

Master Ichiro said.

"Huff…"

With a deep sigh, Kiernan quickly dipped his head inside the pond, refreshing him up, and then entered the dojo before sitting cross-legged in front of Master Ichiro.

Master Ichiro handed him the second cup, and they slowly sipped the tea in peaceful silence.

"With handstands done, your next step is to throw one hundred thousand Iron Smashes with the arm you just did the one-armed handstand with."

"I can't… even feel that arm anymore."

"Good."

Master Ichiro smiled and sipped on his tea.

"Haaaah…"

Kiernan sighed deeply, and then with slight hesitation, he asked.

"When will I continue my defensive training? I've been with you for half a year, and you've helped me to hone my offensive skills, but what about…"

"Nonsense!"

Master Ichiro shouted.

"You're way too defensive-minded. Your Iron Style is something wonderful, but this obsession you have with defense is weakening you.

"Your offensive techniques are the finest I've seen in my long life, and you must put your focus on them. No one can stand in front of your punches and survive!

"Defending isn't doing any good for you. You need to trust in your attack and stop being so afraid of getting hit."

Kiernan slammed the cup down on the table and cracked it enough for the green tea to start leaking out onto the tablecloth.

"Hmm?"

Master Ichiro frowned.

"I don't agree with you, master. I shall prove to you that I am not wrong on my martial arts mindset."

"And how are you planning to do that?"

Master Ichiro asked mockingly.

Kiernan smiled like a madman and said.

"You do have a gun, yes? Shoot at me."

"What?"

Master Ichiro said in disbelief.

"You heard me right. Shoot at me. That bullet won't touch me, let alone graze me."

"You're truly a madman. A human cannot stop a bullet. That is simply impossible. You've truly lost it, haven't you?"

Kiernan stood up and looked down at his master with a look of ridicule.

"We're doing this, or I am walking out of that door. You said it yourself—you were a declining martial arts teacher before meeting me, so you need me more than I need you.

"All your students have left you because of your extreme teaching methods. I wanted something like that, and these six months have been fruitful for me.

"However, I don't need a master who is a coward!"