Chapter 7 - Determination

It's been an entire week since that harrowing nightmare I had about my parents. It felt so realistic that it still haunts me, leaving me constantly on edge. I would often find myself unable to sleep every night, still thinking about it. 
To cope with fear, I decided to prioritize my physical and mental well-being.
All I know is that my gut tells me I have to be prepared for what lies ahead, whether it's the unknown beyond the wall or some unforeseen threat.
To prepare myself, I've started training heavily with my blade, pushing my body to its extremes. I've put aside magical training for now, realizing I'm not a prodigy when it comes to it.
As I drill diligently with my blade, pushing myself harder with each blow, my mind drifts back to the nightmare. The images of my parents' lifeless forms and the cloaked figure's malevolent presence still linger in my thoughts. 
But I push on. I have no time for weakness. The mystery of the wall, the danger of the unknown, all of it fuels my determination.
With every strike of my blade, I feel a surge of determination. I can't be the weakest again, just like in my previous life. I won't let myself or anyone else down. The thought of failure, of not being strong enough, spurs me on. I'll train harder, push myself further.
Amidst the flurry of sparring, my wooden blade clashed with my father's sword, each strike a testament to our relentless training. Sweat beaded on my forehead, but I refused to yield, my heart pounding against my chest. His eyes bore into mine, a mix of pride and challenge in their depths. "Don't hold back," he urged, his voice steady and calm. "Push yourself, Yasu. Let go of your inhibitions."
With those words, a fire ignited within me. I gritted my teeth, my grip on the blade tightening. "You asked for it," I said through clenched teeth, launching into a series of lightning-fast attacks.
My father's face remained impassive, his moves calculated and precise. He easily parried my strikes, his eyes never leaving my face. "Good. But you're telegraphing your moves," he critiqued. "Think more unpredictably."
I took his criticism to heart, trying to mix up my moves, but my father seemed to see right through me, countering every move with ease. Frustration bubbled up in me, but I pushed it back, focusing on learning from his expertise. "Damn it," I muttered through clenched teeth. "How do you always know what I'm going to do?"
My father chuckled, his eyes sharp as he continued to fend off my attacks. "Experience, son," he replied, his tone steady. "You're still too impulsive, too predictable. You have to think three moves ahead, to anticipate your opponent's thoughts."
His words hit home, and I found myself slowing down, trying to think through my moves instead of just acting on instinct. I feinted a strike to the left, then swiftly changed direction, attempting to catch him off guard. But my father sidestepped effortlessly, his reflexes flawless. "Better," he remarked, "but you're still too easy to read."
I grit my teeth, frustration welling up once more. My father's effortless dodges and counters were humbling, each parry a stark reminder of the gulf between us. "I'm trying!" I exclaimed, my voice tinged with desperation as I backed away."But it's like you can read my every move. It's not fair."
My father chuckled again, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement. "Life isn't always fair, Yasu," he replied, his tone still composed. "You have to work harder, train harder. You have potential, but you're not fully unlocking it."
I let out a frustrated huff, the truth of his words stinging. He was right, of course. I was still too raw, too lacking in discipline. "How can I unlock that potential, then?" I asked, a hint of pleading in my voice. "You're the expert, Father. Teach me how to surpass you."
My father paused for a moment, his eyes studying me closely. Then, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Very well," he said, his tone turning serious. "I'll share with you a secret."
I stiffened, excitement and anticipation coursing through me. I could sense that whatever he was about to say was significant, a key to unlocking my potential. "What secret?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
My father leaned closer, his gaze never leaving my face. "It's a technique called 'Harmony of the Ascendant'He began, his voice quiet yet intense. "It's a state where your mind and body function in perfect sync, like a well-oiled machine. You become hyper-focused, almost instinctual, able to act without thinking, instinctively countering your opponent's moves. 
I listened raptly, my eyes widening in awe. The idea of this technique sounded incredible, like a superpower. "Harmony of the Ascendant," I repeated, the word rolling off my tongue. "How do you attain this technique, Father?"
"Meditation, discipline, and intense focus," he replied, his voice taking on a solemn tone. "It's not something you can achieve overnight, Yasu. It takes years of intense training to reach that state. But once you do, you'll find yourself moving like a machine, your actions precise and fluid. No hesitation, only pure instinct and efficiency."
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. This technique sounded like the key to unlocking my full potential, but also incredibly difficult to attain. "Years of training, huh?" I echoed, a hint of trepidation creeping into my voice.
My father nodded solemnly, his gaze still fixed on me. "Yes, years," he confirmed. "And not easy years either. You'll be pushed to your limits, both physically and mentally. There will be days when you'll want to give up, when the training feels too much."
My jaw clenched, the thought of years of arduous training weighing on me. But my determination was still strong, the desire to unlock my potential burning inside me. "I don't care," I said firmly, my voice steady. "I'll do whatever it takes, Father. I'll train until I drop. I'll push through the pain and the exhaustion. I'll do whatever you say. Just help me reach Harmony of the Ascendant."
My father's expression softened, his eyes glimmering with a mix of pride and approval. "That's the spirit, Yasu," he said, his voice gruff yet gentle. "I'll train you, but you have to promise me one thing."
I straightened up, my gaze locking onto his. "Anything," I vowed, my voice resolute. "Just name it."
"No matter how grueling the training gets," he said, his tone serious. "No matter how frustrated or tired you feel, you'll never give up. You'll keep pushing, keep training, until we reach the Harmony of the Ascendant, Agreed?"
I nodded fervently, my determination unwavering. "Agreed," I replied, my heart thumping in anticipation. "I won't give up, Father. I'll push through it all, whatever it takes. We'll reach the Harmony of the Ascendant, I swear it."
My father, satisfied with my resolve, gave a curt nod. "Good," he said. "We start tomorrow, Yasu. And remember, no holding back. You want this, you commit to it. Fully and utterly. No distractions, no excuses. Understood?"
I squared my shoulders, my eyes blazing with determination. "Understood," I replied firmly. "I'm all in, Father. Train me, mold me, push me to my limit. I won't waver. The Harmony of the Ascendant is my goal, and I'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. No distractions, no holding back. I'm yours to shape." 
As my eyes gaze at the walls far away, I can't help but mention what lies beyond the wall."That aside, considering my age, could you tell me about it now?"
My father's expression darkened at my question, his eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed reluctant, as if the topic was a sensitive one. But at the mention of my upcoming birthday, his expression softened slightly.
"The outside world, huh?" he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.