The Last Nightmare

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and lingering embers from last night's fire. The sun had barely risen, casting faint golden streaks across the sky, but Nate was already awake. His body ached with a dull, persistent pain—his muscles sore from the midnight spar.

Even so, he didn't regret it.

Last night, for the first time, he had landed a hit on Kai. It wasn't clean. It wasn't perfect. But it counted. And Kai had acknowledged it.

That was enough.

Still, he knew one lucky strike meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. He wasn't strong enough yet.

"Every time I fell, I saw my past self—weak, powerless. I refuse to be that person anymore."

Which was why, despite the soreness in his limbs, he was standing in the clearing, gripping the hilt of his katana, waiting.

Waiting for Kai.

Elena, kneeling beside the fire, noticed him first. She was grinding herbs in a small wooden bowl, her delicate hands stained with green from crushed leaves. She frowned slightly, her violet eyes filled with quiet disapproval.

"You should be resting, Nate."

Nate exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Can't afford to."

"You push yourself too hard," she murmured, sprinkling a bit of crushed mint into a small cup of hot water. "Your body needs time to heal, or you'll just end up breaking yourself."

"Breaking myself might be the only way I get stronger."

Elena's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't argue, but she didn't agree either. Instead, she held out the cup. "Drink this, at least. It'll help with the soreness."

Nate hesitated, then took it. The tea was warm, the taste slightly bitter with a faint hint of honey.

"Where's Kai?" he asked after a moment.

Elena sighed, wiping her hands on a cloth. "Probably waiting for you."

Nate blinked. "What?"

"You really think he didn't know you'd be here before sunrise?"

A familiar voice cut through the air before Elena could answer.

"She's right, you know."

Nate turned sharply, nearly dropping his cup.

Kai stood at the edge of the clearing, leaning lazily against a tree. His posture was relaxed, his arms folded, but his golden eyes were sharp—watching, calculating.

"You're predictable, kid," Kai continued, pushing off the tree and stepping forward. "The moment I saw you dragging yourself back to camp last night, I knew you'd be here at dawn."

Nate tightened his grip on the cup, swallowing the last of the tea. "Then I won't waste time. Teach me."

Kai smirked, tossing something toward him. "Catch."

Nate barely managed to react in time, his fingers closing around the object—a wooden dagger. He frowned. "Why a dagger?"

Kai rolled his shoulders. "Because a sword is predictable. The best counters don't come from brute force, but from deception."

Nate studied the weapon in his hand. It was simple, unremarkable. But he knew by now that Kai didn't do things without a reason.

Darius, who had been sitting a few feet away sharpening his axe, chuckled. "Oh, this should be good."

Kai ignored him, stepping closer. "Listen up. What I'm about to teach you isn't just a counterattack—it's a trap.You make your enemy think they've already won—then you flip the fight in an instant."

Nate's grip tightened. "How?"

Kai's smirk widened. "By dying."

The words sent a sharp silence through the clearing.

Nate stared at Kai. "You're joking."

Kai simply shrugged. "Not really."

Kai smirked. "I call it The Dead Man's Reversal."

A strange chill ran down Nate's spine. The name alone felt ominous.

"I used this once when I had no other choice. My opponent thought I was done. He didn't walk away."

Kai spun his own wooden dagger between his fingers, his movements impossibly smooth. "Every fighter has a blind spot. A moment where they think they've already won."

He took a slow step forward.

"When they land a clean hit. When they knock their opponent down. When they're convinced it's over."

His voice dropped lower.

"That's when you strike."

Before Nate could react, Kai moved.

His dagger blurred through the air. Nate tried to step back—too late.

In an instant, Kai was behind him, the wooden blade pressed lightly against his throat.

It was over.

Nate's breath hitched. He didn't even see it happen.

Kai exhaled, pulling back. "See?"

Nate swallowed hard. "That was… fast."

Kai nodded. "Speed is part of it. But the real trick is control. You make your enemy commit to the final strike, and in that split second, you turn it against them."

Nate shook off his shock. "Show me again."

Kai grinned. "Good answer."

For the next hour, they drilled the technique over and over.

Nate learned how to bait an attack—how to fake a stumble without actually losing balance. How to twist his body at the last second to avoid a direct hit.

At first, he failed. A lot.

Kai would tap his ribs, his throat, his wrist—correcting every mistake with merciless precision.

"Too slow."

"Too stiff."

"Your stance is garbage."

But Nate didn't quit.

Even when his legs trembled. Even when his arms felt like lead.

He kept going.

The first time he dodged a strike cleanly, Kai just nodded.

The second time, he managed to redirect the force.

And the third—

He countered.

Kai lunged. Nate stepped back—just slightly off balance. Kai took the bait, striking for the opening—

And in that split second, Nate twisted, rolling his shoulder and driving his wooden dagger against Kai's ribs.

A clean hit.

Kai let out a breath. Then, slowly, he grinned.

"Not bad."

Nate was panting, but a triumphant fire burned in his chest.

"So… I'm dead, but I win?"

Kai chuckled. "Exactly."

Darius let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. The kid actually pulled it off."

Elena, who had been watching from a distance, shook her head. "That technique is reckless."

Kai turned to her, smirking. "So is life."

She huffed, crossing her arms. "You're teaching him to take hits on purpose. That's a terrible habit."

Kai raised an eyebrow. "I'm teaching him to survive. Big difference."

Nate watched them bicker, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For the first time in a long while—he felt like he was getting somewhere.

Tomorrow, he knew Kai would push him even harder.

But for now, he had won one battle.

And that was enough.