Nine months.
That was how long Ryan Ashworth had immersed himself in this world—this new life of sweat, steel, and silence. The sun hung high in the sky as he stood barefoot in the center of the garden, katana steady in his hands. The grass beneath him shifted gently in the breeze, but Ryan's stance remained unmoved.
His blade slashed through the air in a clean, practiced arc. Again. And again.
Each movement was precise. Balanced. Controlled.
For the first time, he wasn't just swinging a sword. He was wielding it.
When he stopped, a strange sensation washed over him. It wasn't fatigue—he had felt that many times. This was something... internal. As if something deep within him had clicked into place. His senses felt sharper, his reflexes quicker, and his focus almost unnaturally honed.
He turned to Mei Lin, who stood nearby with her arms folded. Her eyes watched him like a hawk.
"I... feel different," Ryan admitted, still gripping the katana lightly.
Mei Lin's gaze flicked to the sword, then back to his eyes. "You've entered basic mastery," she said simply. "Your body is starting to understand the rhythm of the blade."
He blinked. "That's what this feeling is?"
She gave a slight nod, but then added cryptically, "You'll understand more... in time."
Before Ryan could press further, she turned and walked away, leaving him to sit in quiet reflection beneath the shade of a nearby tree. The garden, once a battlefield for his clumsy training, now felt like an extension of himself.
That night, Mei Lin entered Jane Blackwood's study, her report neatly prepared.
Jane, seated by the window with a glass of wine in hand, glanced up as Mei Lin placed the folder on the table.
"He's reached it?" Jane asked.
"Yes," Mei Lin replied. "Basic mastery. His fundamentals are solid. He needs refinement, but the structure is stable now."
Jane closed the folder after a brief look, satisfaction flickering in her eyes. "Good."
Later that night, as the two of them sat at the dining table enjoying a quiet meal together, Ryan brought up the question that had been nagging him all day.
"Jane," he asked, setting down his spoon, "how far can this go? I mean—what's beyond this stage?"
Jane smiled as she leaned forward, her eyes reflecting the warm candlelight.
"There are three major stages," she said. "You've just entered the first—basic mastery. After that comes intermediate, and then advanced."
Ryan tilted his head. "What's so special about advanced?"
Her voice dropped slightly. "At the advanced level, a person can react fast enough to deflect bullets. Not just dodge—deflect."
He stared at her, stunned. "That's... real?"
Jane nodded. "Yes. It's rare. But it's possible."
He glanced toward the window where Mei Lin had passed earlier in the evening. "Is Mei Lin at that level?"
"She's close," Jane said, smiling faintly. "One step away from advanced mastery."
Ryan raised his eyebrows. "And you?"
Jane paused, then replied calmly, "Intermediate. Also one step away."
He exhaled, impressed. "What's your weapon?"
Jane's smile turned a touch smug. "It's not a katana. Mine is more like an Odachi."
He blinked. "That huge sword?"
She laughed softly. "The blade's about five feet long. It requires more power, more technique—but when used correctly, it can cut through multiple enemies in a single sweep."
Ryan stared at her with a mixture of awe and concern. "You don't scare easily, do you?"
Jane chuckled and took a sip of wine. "I don't have the luxury."
After dinner, their conversation faded into something quieter, more personal. They ended the evening wrapped in each other's warmth—no tension, no barriers. Just peace, just the rare comfort of being close without the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders.
The next morning arrived with a crisp chill in the air.
Ryan stood near the edge of the garden, stretching. Mei Lin approached with her usual quiet grace, dressed in black training attire.
"This will be our last session," she said.
Ryan blinked. "Last?"
Mei Lin nodded. "You have completed the training I was assigned to give. I've brought you to the threshold of real strength. From here, the path is yours to walk."
He stood silent for a moment, uncertain how to respond. "So… what now?"
She gave him a measured look. "Practice diligently. Don't forget your foundation. If you ever have questions—seek me out. But your next evolution will come through application, not instruction."
Ryan bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Mei Lin. For everything."
A flicker of a smile—so rare it almost seemed like a trick of the wind—touched her lips before she turned and walked away.
He watched her retreating form disappear into the estate.
Ryan looked down at the katana in his hands.
Nine months ago, it had felt like a foreign object.
Now, it felt like an extension of his soul.