Kira glanced at the judge sitting across the room, who raised his hand to signal the beginning of the test.
The air was thick with anticipation. Some of the older students sat watching as the new student, Kairos, faced the imposing stone statue at the center of the room. Chiseled from dark granite, the statue was an eerily perfect replica of Kairos-his height, build, and even the faintest contours of his face mirrored in cold stone.
Taking a deep breath, Kairos assumed his fighting stance, muscles coiled and ready. The room was silent, save for the soft rustle of his gi as he moved. Then, without warning, the statue came to life. Its stone form shifted with uncanny fluidity, mirroring Kairos's stance down to the slightest shift in balance.
Kairos hesitated for a fraction of a second before launching a swift roundhouse kick toward the statue's midsection. The statue mimicked the move with terrifying precision, its leg cutting through the air like a blade. Their kicks collided mid-air with a resounding thud, the impact reverberating through Kairos's leg.
Undeterred, he pivoted, following up with a flurry of punches aimed at the statue's chest. But the statue was relentless, matching each strike with a perfect counter. Stone fists clashed against flesh in a symphony of strikes. Kairos felt his frustration mounting-every move he made was mirrored back at him with unyielding accuracy.
The fight continued, Kairos trying to outmaneuver his stone doppelgänger with feints and unpredictable strikes. But the statue was not just copying his moves-it was adapting. Learning his rhythm. Anticipating his attacks. As Kairos attempted a spinning backfist, the statue was already there, its own stone arm crashing into his with bone-jarring force.
Breathing heavily, Kairos realized he was not just fighting his own reflection, but something far more dangerous-an opponent that was becoming his equal in skill, yet immune to fatigue, pain, or hesitation. He needed to think. Not just fight, but strategize.
In a flash of inspiration, he feigned an opening, letting his guard drop for a brief moment.
As expected, the statue mirrored the motion, lowering its defenses. In that split second, Kairos unleashed a powerful upward strike-not at the statue's body, but at the joints connecting its limbs. The blow landed with a sharp crack, and the statue's arm fractured, hanging limp at its side.
Seizing the opportunity, Kairos followed up with a series of precise, calculated strikes, targeting the weakened joints. The once-imposing figure began to crumble, its movements slowing as pieces of stone fell to the floor. Finally, with a powerful kick, Kairos sent the statue toppling backward. It crashed to the ground, shattering into a pile of rubble.
The dojo fell silent once more, save for Kairos's heavy breathing. He stood victorious, but the battle had taught him more than just martial arts-it had shown him the importance of adaptability, strategy, and the dangers of facing one's own reflection in combat.
The judge whispered something to his advisor before turning to the gathered students. "Kairos is accepted as a first-level student."
A murmur ran through the spectators. Breathless but satisfied, Kairos bowed, then made his way to sit beside Kira. Meanwhile, Ronan was summoned forward for his turn.
Ronan's Trial
Ronan stepped forward, his sharp eyes watching as the last remnants of Kairos's shattered statue were swept away. He had studied every detail of the previous fight-the statue's precision, its flawless mimicry, and, most importantly, its weakness. As the next statue came to life, taking on his own likeness, Ronan clenched his fists. Unlike Kairos, he had a weapon the statue could never replicate.
He assumed his fighting stance, his muscles tense but his mind steady. The statue mirrored him perfectly, its stone body eerily mimicking his every move. They circled each other, both waiting for the first strike. But Ronan wasn't in a hurry. He knew the statue was nothing more than an empty vessel, lacking the essence that made him truly strong-his spirit.
He started with a series of quick strikes, testing the statue's reflexes. As expected, it matched him blow for blow, their fists colliding with thunderous force. But Ronan wasn't fighting to win this way. He was waiting for the right moment to unleash his true power.
After several exchanges, he stepped back, his breathing steady. The statue tilted its head, copying his movements. That was when Ronan made his move.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he reached deep within himself, channeling his spiritual energy. A faint, ethereal glow began to radiate from his body, growing brighter with each passing second. When he opened his eyes, the statue faltered for the first time.
It tried to imitate him. It tried to glow. But its stone form remained cold and lifeless, unable to replicate the energy that pulsed within Ronan. He saw the confusion in its stony gaze-and he knew this was his chance.
With a sudden burst of speed, he launched himself at the statue, his fists glowing with radiant light. His first strike sent cracks rippling across the statue's chest. The stone figure staggered, its movements sluggish, its form weakening as it failed to keep up.
Ronan didn't let up. He unleashed a barrage of blows, each one infused with spiritual energy, each one widening the fractures in the statue's body. The glow around him intensified, illuminating the dojo as his attacks grew more powerful. The statue tried to retaliate, but it was too late. The energy was something it could never hope to mirror.
Finally, with one last, devastating punch, Ronan drove his glowing fist through the statue's chest. A brilliant explosion of light erupted outward, and the statue shattered into countless fragments, its remains scattering across the floor.
As the dust settled, Ronan stood amidst the debris, his body still glowing faintly. Slowly, the light faded as he reined in his power. The dojo was silent. The air itself seemed charged with the energy he had unleashed.
Then, the judge nodded in approval. "Ronan is accepted as a third-level student."
A wave of murmurs swept through the spectators. The difference in ranking was clear-Kairos had won through strategy and endurance, but Ronan had displayed something far beyond that.
Ronan returned to sit beside Kira and Kairos.
Kairos, still in shock, turned to him. "Ronan, since when could you control your spiritual energy?"
Before Ronan could answer, the judge's voice rang out once more.
"Kira. Step forward."
The Martial Arts School (Final Part)
Kira stepped into the dojo, feeling the weight of every gaze upon him. Unlike the others before him, he was quiet, reserved. He wasn't nervous-he simply didn't know what to expect. And, unknown even to himself, he carried a secret.
As he took his position before the mimic statue, a strange calm settled over him. It wasn't confidence. It wasn't fearlessness. It was something deeper-an unshakable connection to something ancient and powerful within.
The statue, as before, began to shift, molding itself into Kira's form. But something was different. The process faltered. The stone flickered with uncertainty, its features forming incompletely. A murmur spread through the dojo.
Kira remained still, watching with an unwavering gaze. The judges exchanged puzzled glances as the statue failed to complete its transformation. Its movements were sluggish, almost lifeless, as if struggling against an unseen force.
The head judge frowned, mistaking its hesitation for weakness. "This one is lacking," he murmured. "There's nothing for the statue to mimic." He turned, about to declare Kira's failure.
But before he could speak, a voice cut through the room.
"Wait."
The dojo master-an old man with eyes that seemed to pierce through time-raised his hand. He had sensed something. Something that defied the statue's magic.
"Operate the statue at maximum power," he instructed, his tone calm but absolute. "Without the mimic ability."
The judges hesitated. Then, one by one, they nodded.
Suddenly, the statue surged with energy. The air around it grew heavy with power, an ominous glow pulsing through the stone. It was no longer a mere mimic. Now, it was something far more dangerous-a true test of raw combat ability.
With a sound like cracking thunder, the statue launched itself at Kira. Its stone fists moved with impossible speed, vanishing into the air as they struck. It was faster than anything Kairos or Ronan had faced. Stronger. More relentless.
But Kira didn't flinch.
As the statue closed in, a shift occurred. The world around him seemed to slow. The once-blinding attacks now moved as if passing through water. He saw each motion. Each shift in the statue's stance.
Time itself had bent to his will.