The Last Nightmare

Morning came too soon.

Nate barely got any sleep. His body ached like hell, but his mind was too sharp, too restless. His fight with Kai last night had changed something.

For the first time, he had landed a hit.

It wasn't luck. It wasn't a fluke.

It was progress.

He forced himself up, ignoring the soreness in his muscles. The others were already awake—Darius sharpening his axe, Elena tending to his wounds from the night before, and Kai...

Kai was waiting.

The older warrior leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching as Nate approached.

"Good," Kai said simply. "You're not dead."

"Not yet," Nate muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Kai smirked. "Then let's make sure you stay that way. Today, you learn something new."

They stood on the training ground—an open space surrounded by towering trees. The cool morning breeze did little to ease the tension in the air.

Kai tapped his boot against the dirt. "Tell me. What's the strongest technique a swordsman can use?"

Nate thought for a moment. "Speed?"

Kai shook his head. "Speed is good, but what happens when someone's faster than you?"

"Then… power?"

Kai chuckled. "Power is meaningless if you can't land a hit. And if you waste all your energy on one strike, what happens when they dodge?"

Nate frowned. "Then… strategy?"

Kai's smirk faded slightly. "Closer. But even strategy fails when the unexpected happens."

He drew his dagger and pointed it at Nate. "The strongest technique isn't offense. It's counterattack."

Nate narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because a counter is adaptation. You don't waste energy guessing. You don't force an opening—you exploit one."

Kai took a step forward. "Watch closely."

And then—he moved.

It was fast. A sudden strike aimed at Nate's side.

Nate barely had time to react. He raised his katana, blocking just in time—but before he could counter, Kai twisted his wrist, reversing the pressure—

And suddenly, Nate's balance was gone.

He stumbled back, barely keeping his footing.

Kai exhaled. "That was a test. Now let's try again."

For the next hour, Kai drilled the same concept into Nate's mind.

Strike. Dodge.

Strike. Redirect.

Strike. Counter.

Nate learned that counterattacks weren't about brute force—they were about timing.

Each time he attacked recklessly, Kai would slip past his blade and tap his ribs with the blunt edge of his dagger.

Each time Nate tried to overpower him, Kai would sidestep and hook his leg, sending him to the ground.

"You hesitate too much," Kai noted, standing over him after another failed exchange. "You're waiting for the perfect moment."

Nate gritted his teeth, pushing himself up. "Isn't that the point?"

Kai shook his head. "No. A counter isn't about waiting. It's about reading. You don't sit back and hope for an opening. You create one by forcing your opponent's movement."

Nate wiped sweat from his forehead. "Easier said than done."

Kai smirked. "Then let's make it easier."

Before Nate could react, Kai signaled Darius.

An axe came swinging toward him.

Nate barely managed to duck. He turned—only to see Kai lunging forward again. He blocked, but the force sent him stumbling.

And then—Elena's voice rang out.

"Stay on your feet!"

She wasn't attacking. She was guiding. Watching his footwork, his posture, his breathing.

"You're too tense. Relax your shoulders," she called. "Your balance is off—adjust your stance!"

Kai didn't slow. Darius came in with another strike, forcing Nate to sidestep.

"Not bad," Kai muttered. "But not good enough."

He feinted left, then cut right—too fast. Nate barely raised his sword, but the force of the impact sent him skidding back.

Elena sighed. "You're fighting their attacks, Nate. Not using them."

Nate clenched his fists. She was right. He was still reacting instead of reading.

Darius swung again—Nate dodged just in time.

Kai moved in—Nate didn't step back. He stepped forward.

Instead of blocking, he let Kai's momentum carry forward, twisting at the last second—Kai's dagger barely missed his ribs.

For the first time, he forced Kai to adjust.

It wasn't perfect.

But it wasn't a failure.

Kai saw it.

"Hah," the older warrior muttered. "You're learning."

The sun was beginning to set, but Kai wasn't done yet.

"One last test," he said. "You last five seconds against me, and I'll teach you a real counterattack technique."

Nate's grip on his katana tightened.

"Bring it."

Kai's smirk was razor-sharp.

Then—he moved.

Nate barely had time to react.

Kai's speed was insane—faster than before, more precise, more deadly.

But this time—Nate saw it.

His instincts screamed, and instead of blocking, he shifted his stance just slightly.

Kai's dagger sliced past his shoulder—missing by inches.

For the first time, Nate dodged.

Kai didn't slow. He twisted, aiming a strike for Nate's ribs—

But Nate read it.

Instead of retreating, he stepped forward into the attack, forcing Kai's arm to overextend—

And in that split second—

Nate's katana was at Kai's throat.

The world stood still.

The fire crackled in the distance.

Kai's eyes flicked down at the blade. Then, slowly, his smirk returned.

He stepped back, pushing the blade aside effortlessly. "Hah. Not bad."

Nate exhaled sharply, lowering his weapon.

Kai turned away. "Next time, I'll teach you something real."

Nate nodded. "What technique?"

Kai glanced over his shoulder. His smirk was unreadable.

"The Dead Man's Reversal."

And just like that, the lesson was over.

But Nate knew—

Their next training session would be even harder.