Musashi’s eyes sharpened slightly.
“You’ve heard of me?”
Peter started bouncing in place, barely containing himself. The others just stared, confused.
“You’re the legendary swordsman. I read about you once. You were so cool.”
Musashi’s expression didn’t change… but his eyes lingered.
“Read… about me?”
A brief silence followed.
Dreko shot Peter a sharp look.
Peter scratched the back of his head.
“Oh… right.”
Rowlo slowly pushed himself up.
“I think I’m good now… but why did you say we’re not demons?”
Musashi stood still for a moment, studying them.
“I’ve traveled across Japan searching for strong opponents,” he said. “In that time, I’ve encountered… unusual people. Outsiders. Those with abilities beyond normal men.”
His gaze settled on Rowlo’s arm.
“You’re closer to that than anything else.”
Jaylia stepped forward slightly.
“Then why defend us?”
Musashi exhaled softly, turning away.
“…This isn’t a conversation for the road.”
He glanced toward the village.
“It’s hot. Come. We’ll talk somewhere more comfortable.”
Later, they found themselves inside a tavern. It was lively. Loud. A sharp contrast to the quiet countryside. Laughter echoed through the room, cups slammed against tables, voices overlapping in a steady hum of life.
Musashi sat calmly among it all.
He lifted a cup of sake and drank it in one smooth motion.
“Ahh… that’s good.”
He set it down and looked at them.
“You’re far too weak to be demons.”
The words landed flat.
A few nearby conversations slowed… then quieted.
“You panic. You hesitate. You don’t understand your own strength.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“If anything… you’re like children who wandered into a battlefield.”
Rowlo frowned.
“Hey, it’s not our fault your people went straight to trying to kill us.”
Dreko crossed his arms, unimpressed.
“The situation was under control. There was no real danger.”
Musashi let out a short laugh.
“Is that so?”
He stood.
Slow. Controlled.
Then suddenly
He slammed his hand onto the table. The sound cracked through the tavern. A cup slipped from someone’s hand and clattered to the floor. Conversations stopped completely.
“Then prove it.”
Silence spread.
“I will test you.”
His gaze locked onto Dreko.
“Your ‘sorcery’… against my sword.”
Dreko didn’t even move.
“There’s no need for that. It would be a complete waste of time.”
A few people nearby shifted in their seats, watching carefully now.
Musashi didn’t sit back down.
“Because of your abilities?” he asked. “You rely on them too much.”
His voice sharpened.
“Power alone does not make a warrior.”
Suddenly Peter stood up.
“I’ll fight you.”
Everyone froze.
“I’ll duel you, Musashi Miyamoto.”
A low murmur spread through the tavern.
Rowlo blinked.
“Pete… what are you talking about?”
“You’re not even a swordsman,” he added, rubbing his forehead. “You’ve never even been in a fight.”
Jaylia looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“We don’t have time for this.”
Dreko sighed, irritation creeping into his voice.
“This is pointless.”
Musashi stared at Peter for a moment. Then laughed. A loud, genuine laugh.
“This little one wishes to challenge me?”
He stepped closer, looking Peter up and down.
“How foolish.”
The laughter faded, but his eyes stayed sharp.
“…I accept.”
The room went quiet again.
“The ryokan will house you for the night,” he continued. “Meet me tomorrow at noon.”
A slight pause.
“At Takeda Dojo.”
He turned.
“Let me see this ‘sorcery’ of yours.”
He tossed a few coins onto the table. The sharp clink echoed in the silence. Then he walked out without another word.
Sound slowly returned to the tavern.
Jaylia turned immediately.
“Pete… what the hell was that?”
Peter shrugged, a little sheepish now.
“I mean… we’ve got powers or whatever, right? And I’m probably never getting another chance to fight a legendary swordsman.”
“…We can’t fight,” Rowlo said.
A realization hit him mid-sentence.
His expression changed.
“…We can’t fight...we need to learn.”
He looked at Dreko.
“If we can’t fight… we’re not getting Solomon back.”
All of them turned. Dreko blinked.
“…You’re serious.”
“What good are these powers if we don’t know how to use them?” Rowlo continued. “Peter’s gonna get himself killed tomorrow.”
“Hey...” Peter started.
Jaylia looked between them.
“…He’s right.”
Dreko exhaled slowly.
Then nodded once.
“Yeah… I figured this would happen eventually.”
His expression shifted.
More serious now.
“I’ll teach you, but understand this…”
His eyes hardened slightly.
“I won’t always be there to save you.”
Silence settled over them.
Tomorrow wasn’t just a duel anymore. It was the beginning of something else.
Not long after, they stepped out of the tavern and into the fading daylight. The noise of the village slowly died behind them as they walked. Laughter turned to murmurs… then to silence.
The four of them stood in an open field just outside the village.
Boulders were scattered across the area, with a few trees breaking up the space, but for the most part it was wide and open. Quiet.
Dreko paced slowly, scanning the ground as if measuring it.
Rowlo, Jaylia, and Peter stood together, glancing between each other… then back at him.
None of them really knew what to expect.
Dreko stopped, then he turned and looked directly at them.
“By now… I’m sure you’ve felt it,” he said. “The changes in your bodies.”
Rowlo shifted slightly.
“I mean… yeah. I feel sharper, I guess. Stronger too.”
Jaylia nodded.
“Everything feels… lighter.”
Peter flexed his hand.
“Yeah… like I’ve got way more energy or something.”
Dreko gave a small nod.
“That’s only the surface.”
He walked over to a nearby boulder.
“Take this, for example.”
With one hand, he lifted it effortlessly. Like it weighed nothing. He tossed it slightly in the air… then caught it again.
The three of them froze.
“An average human might struggle with forty… maybe fifty pounds,” Dreko continued.
He set the boulder back down.
“You?”
He looked back at them.
“You should be capable of lifting at least twenty times that… without training. Roughly one thousand pounds.”
Peter’s jaw dropped.
“You’re joking…”
Dreko didn’t respond.
Instead he moved.
One step.
Then another.
Then he vanished.
A blur tore across the field as he sprinted, faster and faster, circling them in seconds. The air shifted with his movement.
Rowlo tried to follow him…
and failed.
Dreko slowed.
Then stopped exactly where he started.
“Speed. Durability. Reaction time,” he said calmly. “All of it scales the same way.”
His expression hardened slightly.
“But that kind of power… is dangerous.”
“If you lose control… even for a moment… you could kill someone.”
Peter blinked.
“…Oh ok then, wait… so it’s like Spider-Man? With great power comes great responsibility and all that?”
Dreko gave a small nod.
“Yes. Exactly.”
Jaylia crossed her arms slightly.
“So what… we just hold back all the time?”
“Sometimes,” Dreko said. “But restraint alone isn’t enough.”
He stepped back toward the boulder.
“Technique is everything.”
He glanced at them.
“On my world, in the Kudonian military, we trained in a martial art called Jibo-Kao.”
His stance shifted slightly.
“It focuses on control. Precision. Efficiency.”
He raised his hand.
“For someone like you… that matters more than raw strength.”
He struck the boulder. A light tap. Nothing happened, then he repeated the motion.
Same movement. Same speed.
This time a small crater formed in the stone.
The difference was undeniable.
Dreko lowered his hand.
“Same motion,” he said. “Different control.”
He looked at them.
“Today… you learn how not to destroy everything you touch.”
“Then we move on to how to fight.”
Rowlo stepped forward first.
He raised his hand, looking at the boulder, hesitating for just a second.
Then he struck it.
The impact was louder than he expected.
The boulder didn’t just crack… it exploded slightly at the surface, fragments breaking off and scattering across the ground.
Rowlo stumbled back, shaking his hand.
“…Okay, that was not controlled.”
Peter let out a small laugh.
“Yeah… no kidding.”
“Your turn,” Dreko said calmly.
Peter walked up, rolling his shoulders.
He swung.
His hand connected… and the force sent him slightly off balance. His footing slipped, and he had to catch himself before falling. The boulder chipped unevenly.
“…I meant to do that,” Peter muttered.
Jaylia stepped up next.
She took a breath, focusing.
Her strike landed softer.
A small crack formed.
She blinked.
“…Wait.”
She hit it again. The crack spread further.
A small smile formed.
“I think I’m getting it.”
Dreko nodded slightly.
“Good. Control first. Power comes after.”
They kept going.
Rowlo adjusted his stance, trying to hold back just enough.
Peter overcorrected and barely made a dent.
Jaylia found a rhythm, each strike cleaner than the last.
Dust began to hang in the air, clinging to their clothes and skin.
At one point, Rowlo misjudged his strength again. A chunk of stone broke off and flew past them, landing several feet away.
Everyone paused.
“…Yeah,” Dreko said. “That’s exactly what we’re avoiding.”
They reset.
Again.
And again.
Slowly, their movements became more precise.Less and less wild. More controlled.
Day turned to evening.
Jaylia collapsed against a battered rock.
“Man… I’m beat.”
Dreko sat nearby, staring into the distance, lost in thought, then he stood and walked over to them. A small smile crossed his face.
“You three are going to be alright.”
He lightly patted Rowlo’s head. Then his gaze shifted to Peter.
“You still need more training. All of you do… but…”
He hesitated.
“…try not to accidentally kill Musashi.”
He muttered under his breath.
“I don’t need those damn rangers poking around.”
Rowlo sat up slightly.
“What would even happen… if he died? Would history just… change?”
Dreko’s expression darkened.
“It’s complicated... but whatever you do… don’t mess with time. It’ll be more trouble than it’s worth.”
Rowlo looked down.
“…What if you brought someone back? Prevented their death… would that change the future?”
Dreko’s voice sharpened.
“Possibly.”
“No matter how tempted you are… never change the past. Some things are not meant to be changed.”
Rowlo went quiet.
“…Yeah.”
Jaylia stood, exhaustion in every movement.
“Well… I’m beat. Let’s head back before we accidentally break the timeline or something.”
She let out a small laugh.
Then looked at Peter.
“Good luck tomorrow.”
“You’re going to need it.”