Chapter 59: The Old Man Can Hit

She pointed toward the back windows of the guild hall. "Take the west road out of the market square. Follow the outer stone wall until you see the old watchtower. The armory sits right beneath it. You’ll hear him before you see him."

"Thanks," I yelled, already across the room.

Leaving the guild, I followed her directions. The west road led away from the busy harbor. Stone blocks replaced the wooden storefronts here. The air smelled exactly like crushed rock, surprisingly.

Calvin’s joke echoed in my head, forcing a grin across my face. I wanted to make sure they stayed safe. My raw strength worked great for carrying heavy crates or punching monsters, but I needed real control. I needed actual technique.

The stone watchtower stood ahead. Right below it sat a massive, walled courtyard. The iron gates hung wide open.

A loud crack echoed from inside. It sounded exactly like a cannon firing. I stepped through the gates. The courtyard was completely stripped of grass. Instead, multiple craters littered the yard.

In the center of it stood an older-looking man. He had short gray hair and a goatee. He wore simple linen pants and bandages wrapped tightly around his knuckles.

He stood perfectly still in front of a massive granite boulder. Exhaling slowly, a faint, glowing white aura wrapped tightly around his right forearm.

He stepped forward and struck the boulder with an open palm.

The solid rock didn’t just break. It exploded, sending shards of granite showering across the dirt yard. The shockwave rattled the teeth in my mouth.

The man lowered his arm. The glowing aura faded instantly. He turned and locked his eyes directly on me. His gaze felt sharp.

"So... The guild sends me another soft boy," he said. His voice sounded like grinding gravel. "Turn around and go back to wherever you came from. I don’t have time to babysit today."

I didn’t move. I locked my knees and met his stare.

"My name’s Sam," I called across the yard. "And I’m not leaving until you teach me how to do that."

Torin stared at me. The dust from the shattered boulder settled around his boots. He didn’t blink.

"Soft boy," Torin repeated. "You think staring makes you tough? It just makes you a target."

He closed the distance between us. He moved way too fast for a man his age. He didn’t use the glowing aura this time. He just threw a standard right hook aimed directly at my jaw.

My instincts kicked in, raising my left forearm to block. Bone cracked against bone. The impact shoved me backward. My boots carved trenches into the hard dirt, but I stayed upright.

My arm throbbed. I dropped my guard and shook out the sting.

Torin stopped and looked at his own knuckles, then looked at my arm.

"You took that hit," Torin said. His rough voice carried a hint of actual curiosity. "You’ve got density. Your bones are thick. But you didn’t brace your core. You just put your arm in the way and hoped for the best."

"I told you I need to learn," I repeated, rolling my shoulders.

"Raw strength means nothing," Torin countered. He walked back to the center of the yard. "I hit that boulder with the force of a falling anvil. If I did that without augmentation, my arm would shatter into powder."

"What do you mean?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Magic protects the vessel. You are a vessel." He pointed a bandaged finger at my chest. "Show me your mana."

"I don’t know how."

"You don’t know how," Torin echoed flatly. He shook his head. "Get out."

"Teach me. Please," I pleaded.

"I don’t teach beginners how to find their core. Go to the academy for children. Pay a tutor. Come back when you can light a candle."

I refused to move. I thought about the cavern. I thought about the rogue mage who tortured Elise. I needed to be ready.

"I don’t have time for the academy," I said. "Hit me again."

Torin narrowed his eyes. "You’re arrogant."

"I’m motivated."

Torin sighed as he unraveled a long strip of linen from his wrist and tossed it onto the dirt. "Fine. I’ll hit you again. If you stand back up, I’ll teach you the first step. If you stay down, you walk out those gates and never come back."

"Deal," I agreed.

I widened my stance. I bent my knees and braced my core. I watched his shoulders, waiting for the telegraph.

Torin didn’t hesitate. He blurred forward.

A white glow flared around his right leg. He pivoted and drove his heel straight into my stomach. The blow bypassed my guard completely, and the force hit me like a runaway truck.

The air left my lungs along with my feet leaving the ground. I flew backward and crashed into the stone wall of the courtyard. The stone cracked behind my shoulders.

I hit the dirt hard. My vision blurred on the edges. I gasped for air, but my chest refused to work. Pain radiated from my ribs down to my knees.

Torin stood in the center of the yard. The white glow faded from his leg. He turned his back to me and walked toward a wooden water barrel.

I forced my hands into the dirt. My arms shook violently. I coughed, tasting the copper tang of blood in the back of my throat.

I pushed my hips up and dragged my boots beneath me. My knees trembled, threatening to buckle. I gripped the cracked stone wall behind me and forced myself to a standing position.

"Is that all?" I spat, wiping away blood from my mouth. I flashed him a sly grin I would soon regret.

Torin stopped dead halfway to the water barrel. His shoulders locked into a rigid line as he dropped the wooden ladle, letting it hit the dirt with a hollow thud.

When he finally turned back around, his eyes carried absolutely zero curiosity.

The glowing white aura returned, but this time it didn’t just isolate to his leg. It engulfed both of his forearms, burning hot enough to distort the air around his wrapped knuckles.

He didn’t waste breath on a warning or a lesson. He simply lowered his chin and blurred across the cratered yard, bringing a glowing fist straight toward my teeth.