Chapter Six

As soon as the sun peeks over Basintroll, both Eden heads straight to the training camp along with Sanders without making any stops. The streets are mostly empty, making sneaking easier. The two creep into the back where Eden was yesterday and stack crates to see over the wall.

A bunch of Legions are already outside training. All of them wield different Armaments ranging from two to five stars and practice differently. The swords spar against each other, axes train their swings, bows shoot their targets. And As usual, the Gauntlet Legions practice with wooden dummies, sandbags, and with others.

As Eden watches them train, he mentally keeps note that each gauntlet legion practices a different fighting style. Of course, he doesn't know what kind of martial arts they practiced, so he comes up with his own terms.

Aggressive, gentle, acrobatic, agile, and sturdy, the Legions all train in various ways. The aggressive fight with speed and erupts powerful attacks like their body is a volcano. The gentle style Legions are graceful and elegant; their moves are calm and flow like a river. The acrobatic fighters train by doing flips and kicks as if they could fly through the sky. The agile ones move and attack their opponents extremely fast like an animal on a prairie. Finally, the sturdy technique has powerful attacks that can send enemies flying, but they mainly block and become unmovable objects like mountains.

Eden's eyes glow with excitement as they lock on to the Gauntlet Legions. He stares intensely at their technique, capturing every moment of their training and etching it into the very core of his mind. The Gauntlet Legions wave their arms in many different forms; the wooden dummy clunks every time they strike it. Eden imitates from afar; he swings his arms in the air the same way as they do. Meanwhile, Sanders takes out a notebook and hurriedly jots some things down.

"Hey, you two!" A Legion calls out. All of the trainees immediately stop to look at them.

Eden freezes as does Sanders, then, toppling off the crates he scrams into the nearby woods with his uncle behind him. Stopping in the town square, Eden waits for Sanders to catch his breath. The old fisherman sits on a bench, huffing like he’s going to die. Streets bustling with people, giving good enough coverage for Eden as he waits for his uncle to recover. But the clopping of running boots gets closer, not letting Sanders rest as he groans. Eden chuckles at him and returns to running away from their pursuers.

They make it back to the pier, and Sanders urgently heads into his house to grab himself a bottle of mead while Eden goes straight to the wooden dummy. He starts hitting it exactly how the Gauntlet Legions practiced. Their moves are replayed in his mind over and over again as he tries to get his form right. Each strike on the wooden dummy clonks through the pier drawing the attention of other fishermen. They cheer for him and give him a thumbs up to encourage him. Eden laughs in embarrassment and hits the dummy harder. Sanders pops out of his house to observe Eden. He’s already doing what the Legions in the camp are doing. He smirks and takes a swig of mead.

Suddenly, a fisherman approaches Eden and Sanders. He has a concerning look on his face as he walks up to them. Sanders nods his head to greet the man.

"Hey, Travis is looking for Eden," the man warns.

The words make Eden stop with his hands clenched into fists, then he turns to his uncle drawing his eyebrows together.

"He probably saw us at the camp," says Sanders. He crosses his arms and holds his chin.

Eden's expression pinches.

"We're gonna need a place to train peacefully." Sanders looks up to the crowd of fishermen. "Any suggestions, fellas?"

The crowd of fishermen all ponder. Then Erik raises his hand. "I know a place."

"Where?"

Erik lowers his hand. "Saltwater Woods."

Sanders gives it some thought for a moment as he pets his beard. He looks back at Erik. "Is it safe there?"

"No one goes into the woods."

“Why?” Eden asks.

“The king believes that the woods is home to a forest spirit, that’s why we don’t have a problem with Menace monsters, it’s protecting the area here. So nobody is allowed to enter there for it might disturb it.

“Oh.” Eden turns back to Sanders. "What do we do?"

"Hmm... no one goes into the woods..." Sanders mumbles to himself. "All right, I've decided." He holds his head high and gives Eden a grin. "We're going to train there."

Eden smiles and nods his head in agreement.

"We'll train where Travis won't set foot in, but of course, I'll need everyone here to help us keep Travis out of our hair."

“Don’t worry, as clean as the young noble likes to be, we’ll make sure he doesn’t want to take a step here in the Trench!” All of the fishermen that gathered all nod their heads and leave to distract Travis.

Eden and Sanders prepare themselves to go into the woods. Sanders carries the wooden dummy over his shoulder and a bag full of food while Eden brings his Armaments.

The two depart for Saltwater Woods that's up north of Basintroll. Usually, the way to get there would be to exit the kingdom's front gates, but Sanders has a different route in mind. Eden follows his uncle and heads down to the pier and gets on Sanders's fishing boat. Sanders places the dummy on the deck in front of the helm, then he raises the sail, and it flaps like a flag in the wind. Eden sits next to the dummy so that it wouldn't slide across the deck and fall overboard. The boat slowly leaves the pier and sails up north. Saltwater Woods is already in sight since it's just right behind the kingdom.

Sanders lowers the anchor and docks the boat to where they can’t be seen from the pier. Eden brings his Armaments and the bag of food Sanders prepared while his uncle carries the wooden dummy off the boat and ventures into the woods. The trees are lush with greenery, with light shining through the leaves as if each petal are its own little sun. So many different wildflowers bloom in the bushes nearby. Cicada screeches echo through the air, and the birds soothe the ears of any creature with their tunes. The forest is calm and warm as if it's welcoming the two as guests.

There's no path to follow in the forest; the woods are thick with branches extended from small trees blocking every direction like walls of thorns. Eden takes the lead to chop down any stalks that are in his way and proceed straight in.

The bubbly sound of a creek can be heard nearby. As Eden nears it, he notices a herd of deer on the other side of the creek drinking; they pay no mind to both him and Sanders as they stare at them. There’s another deer that’s also drinking the creek. It’s alone, but it has an abundance of enormous antlers that stick straight out of its head like swords. And the physique is more significant than the others.

The stag raises its head from the creek and stares at the two humans.

Eden and Sanders stay cautiously quiet as to not alarm the creature, staying utterly still. The deer keeps its gaze on them for what feels like hours, then it snorts. Finally, it turns around to walk away, but it waves its head at them.

"You think it wants us to follow it?" Eden whispers.

"What are you talking about? Deer don't commune with humans." Sanders replies.

Eden keeps his gaze on the deer, hoping it'll walk away. But it stomps its hooves on the ground and grunts angrily, making him flinch. "Now it's threatening us to follow it.”

“We should run."

"No! It'll chase us if we do that; besides, you can't even run."

"Fine… Then kill it."

Eden turns to face Sanders with his eyes bulging and eyebrows raised. "Do you see the horns on that thing's head?" He points at the deer. "Those are Five Star antlers!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?!"

The deer grunts even more angrily; making them jump simultaneously.

"A- all right, all right! We'll follow you!" Eden stammers.

The deer nods and leads the way. Eden accompanies it from a distance with Sanders behind. It guides them deeper into the woods; the trees around them grow in size as they tread carefully. The sun's light slowly dissipates with every step they take as if they’re entering a cave. Even the sounds of animals cease as they cross the border to the dark side.

The two shiver in fear as it gets darker into the woods; the silence didn't help them either. Eden gripped his Armaments tightly while zipping his eyes from left to right, and Sanders was prepared to swing the wooden dummy at any unfamiliar sounds.

Eden's body shakes uncontrollably; the fear of unknown beasts waiting for them deep within the forest haunts him. He turns to Sanders as if to reassure that he’s still there behind him, and he notices that the old fisherman keeps peering behind him. Eden lets out a soft chuckle. "Are you scared, Sanders?"

Sanders jolts his head toward the sound of Eden's voice; he frowns at his statement and stops. "No, I'm having the time of my life," he growls. Sanders puts the wooden dummy down, then raises his voice. "Well, of course, I'm scared! We're in the cursed part of the forest and being lured by a deer!" His voice booms, breaking the silence of the woods. "Why are we following it in the first place?!"

Eden raises his finger up to his lips and shushes Sanders. He looks back at the deer. It also stops to look at them. Sanders puts his hands on his hips and waits for Eden to answer his question. Eden scratches his head and shrugs with a smile. "Because it threatened us?"

Sanders rolls his eyes, sighs heavily, and shakes his head.

Eden nervously chuckles, then clears his throat to speak again. "I guess you can call it a hunch?"

Sanders raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms.

"I don't know how to explain it, but my gut tells me to follow that deer," Eden adds. He stares back at the animal, and their eyes meet; the creature's dark brown eyes are calm as they’re locked with Eden's. "I think we can trust it."

"We're here to find a spot to train, not go sightseeing with a deer as our tour guide!"

"I really do think it's trying to show us something uncle." Eden shifts his gaze back to Sanders and holds it firm.

"Fine!" Sanders groans. He picks up the wooden dummy over his shoulder and stomps his way to the deer. "Hey, tour guide, show us where y'all keep the gates of hell, would ya!"

Eden laughs and chases after them. The deer nods its head and continues the route. The shadows along the path envelop, growing darker and grim, as if the sun has already set.

Sanders twists his head in all directions as if to make sure there are no dangerous beasts lurking about. He flinches with the wooden dummy around to every snap or rustle like he’s ready to swing at anything.

Eden's body is tense but calm all the same. The fear of monsters waiting to prey on them in the deepest part of the forest sends his heart beating like a drum in his ears. Yet he is still calm. When he looked into the eyes of the deer, it showed no threat, no harm. The eyes were somehow comforting to him as if it was safe. So he kept his composure, trusting in the animal, believing that they met this creature for a reason.

It indeed looks like a deer but also different. Its appearance somehow made it look more majestic compared to others.

Slowly, a ray of light breaks through the darkness, displaying the true colors. The glare blinds Eden as he raises his hand against it from blinding him.

The deer finally leads them across the border between light and dark. A warm, gentle breeze brushes Eden's face as he begins in the new area and ends the cave of trees. His eyes gradually adjust to the brightness. What awaits him is completely different from the rest of Saltwater Woods. Eden’s mouth drops at the sight before him.

The area is wide open, with a small pond in the middle of it. The trees are colorful as autumn; the fruit they bear are bright, yellow as gold, and leaves rain from the branches like snow. Petals and lily pads drift across the surface of the water. There are frogs of different sizes jumping around and butterflies with all sorts of colors fluttering through the warm air.

"Woah," Eden gapes. His eyes sparkle at the colors; he places his Armaments down and looks around in awe.

Sanders places the wooden dummy next to the pond and gets on his knees. Scooping some water with his hands he drinks it then lets out a long sigh of relief. He stands back up on his feet and looks around for himself. "This place is perfect," Sanders smiles.

"What do you mean?" Eden asks Sanders as he approaches him.

"This place is perfect for training." Sanders stares into the clear blue sky and holds his bucket hat. He takes a deep breath.

Eden lays his head back with his hands as he follows suit, inhaling the earthy scent into his lungs, then exhales. "Yeah, I think so too."

The deer grunts loudly, grabbing Eden and Sanders's attention. It slowly nods its head at them and swiftly darts back into the dark woods.

Eden runs after it part way and waves at the animal. "Bye! Thanks for showing us the place!"

The deer slowly merges with the darkness of the forest as it gallops farther away.

"So, shall we start?" Sanders asks.

Eden turns around and smirks at Sanders."Training?"

"You bet."

"Then let's start." Eden steps forward in front of the wooden dummy. He shakes his arms, preparing to attack the dead lumber. He closes his eyes and breathes in the warm, earthy, and sweet air, filling every part of his body. Sliding his left leg to the back, he gently swings his arms in a circular motion then pulls his left fist close and extends his right arm out. Eden forms a hand sign that the legions used; he opens his index and thumb out, and the other three fingers bent. The breath inside his lungs slowly releases; the muscles in his body relax. Eden shoots his eyes open; he swiftly strikes the dummy in the abdomen with his left fist, then quickly connects both of his forearms to the arms of the wooden man, one arm on the top and the other on the bottom. Then he mirrors his movement to the left side.

Sanders watches closely nearby with the notebook he had when they peeked at the training camp, glancing up at Eden display attacks and blocks then back down to his notes. He nods his head then narrows his eyes. "Eden! You do know you got legs, too, right? Move em!" He shouts.

Eden grunts and immediately strikes a kick to the leg of the dummy.

"You also gotta use those hands to block incoming attacks! Kicking the leg is only stopping your opponent's movements!"

Eden simultaneously switches from using his arms to his legs, but he pauses after every move he makes. He can’t precisely recall the actions that the Gauntlet Legions trained since he merely glimpsed at them. He closes his eyes again, visualizing a technique. He paints an image of the Legion's arms going over and under the wooden figure's components like a needle breaking the surface of fabric then piercing back down. Then he draws the palms extending out and attacks. He opens his eyes and projects the image into reality. Just as his mind pictures it, he whips both arms over the wooden rods, then juts his palms out and strikes! A sudden strike of pain explodes on his head, making Eden yelp.

Sanders stands behind him with the notebook rolled up and a frown on his face.

"What was that for?!" Eden hunches over and covers the spot where he was struck with his hands.

Sanders crosses his arms, looking down on Eden. "You're too slow. By the time you struck the dummy, I would've been at my funeral by then."

Eden groans; he straightens his back and continues to train. He turns his right hand over the left arm of the dummy, flips it over to the right, then connects his elbow as if to block a straight punch. The wooden man's arms clonk; the sounds echo through the forest.

After a couple of hours training with the dummy, Sanders grabs a canteen of water out of the bag and hands it to Eden. Then on to the next course. This time, Eden practices his form. He swings his arms and legs in the air and blocks as if he’s actually fighting someone. But Eden notices that his moves are not the same as the Legions. He can’t kick as high as they did, or he will fall flat on his face from doing a fancy kick. Maybe this wouldn't work after all? A couple of straight punches get thrown in the air, then twisting his body around, he kicks with his left leg, but instead, it swings in an awkward sweeping motion.

"No, no, no!" Sanders waves both arms as he runs toward Eden. He takes off his hat and scratches his head. "I think we're gonna need to train your flexibility before you do all those fancy kicks, first."

"I think you're right," Eden heaves.

Sanders puts his hat back on and smirks. "Luckily for you, boy, I have an idea." He walks over back to the wooden dummy and gestures to Eden to follow.

Eden tilts his head and does so anyway.

"Now put one of your legs on top of the rod." Sanders pats one of the highest rods and steps back to give Eden space.

Eden does what Sanders says; he lifts his leg with the help of his hands on the arms of the dummy then shrugs. "Okay... now what?" His head suddenly gets pushed down toward his leg. Eden screams, feeling the muscles in his thigh being stretched. He flails his arms around, reaching to get Sanders’s hand off him until he is finally let go and falls backward. Eden groans as he tries to rub the pain away. "Why do you keep hurting me!?"

"Cause you keep doubting yourself," Sanders sternly replies.

Eden widens his eyes, realizing that Sanders had read his mind. He looks away to the ground, but he can feel his gaze boring through his head.

"You're trying to copy them." Sanders holds out his hand to Eden.

Eden looks at the hand, then at Sanders. His words sting him; yes, he's copying the Legions, but how else will he learn? Eden doesn't have a teacher, the camp didn't accept him, and of course, neither Eden nor Sanders know anything about martial arts. So copying them is all he can do.

"You are not them," Sanders continues. "You will never be like the Gauntlet Legions; you need to be you."

Eden averts his gaze and just stays silent with a pinch expression on his face.

"Yes, we swiped some of their skills and copied them, but you should use those moves we stole and apply them as your own." His expression is serious, almost as if he’s angry. "Stop following them; if you keep on trying to be like them, you will never become who you are supposed to be. There's a reason why not everyone uses a fishing pole at the pier; it's because we do what we know is best for us. Some people would prefer a net over a fishing pole, but they both still catch fish at the end of the day. Use what you already know and make it your own." Sanders jabs a finger at Eden's chest. "Walk your own path."

The idea of creating his own style has never crossed Eden’s mind. Being too concerned about the how and the where to start learning how to fight made him think that copying movements are all he can do. But his own way of combat? What would it look like? The thought gives Eden a feeling of lightness in the chest as he grabs Sanders's hand and gets back on his feet. "Thanks, uncle."

"I got you, son, " Sanders smirks.

Eden does exactly what Sanders told him to do and stretches his leg muscles. Pain sears through the thigh as he bends toward his leg but grits his teeth and goes through it anyway. As usual, Eden completes ten sets of ten stretches in both legs, leaving him feeling sore.

After stretching, Eden goes to practice shadow-boxing where he throws punches and swings some kicks in the air like he’s actually fighting an opponent. Training nonstop in the golden forest until the sky darkens, Eden will return to it with Sanders at dawn, leaving behind the wooden dummy as it sits next to the blackened, glittering pond.

Before leaving, an idea pops into Eden's head; he approaches Sanders with a wide grin who returns with a raised eyebrow. "Hey uncle, have you ever heard of the Hornet?" He asks.

"I have. What about him?"

"I read he can climb and jump walls so fast that nobody was able to catch him," Eden speaks like a child telling their parents about their favorite hero. "Now, don't you think it'll be cool if I were to combine that skill with the acrobatic and agile styles?"

Sanders laughs at him. “You’re just like your old man!”

“What do you mean?” asks Eden, tilting his head. His uncle replies with another burst of laughter, turning away from him.

"I like your idea, son. Just give me some time, and I'll build you the best obstacle course."

Eden nods enthusiastically and goes back to his training.

While Improving himself, Sanders trails off in the forest, bringing lumber and tools. The sounds of hammer on wood banged in the distance. Wanting to see the project, Eden goes to take a peek, but he instead gets yelled at by Sanders to not stop training. He grumbles as he returns to practice against the wooden dummy.

* * *

In the coming days, turning into weeks, then to months, Eden trains like hell, covering himself in sweat, exhausted, and his muscles begging for him to stop. But there are no day-offs; Eden runs his laps around the pier at every daybreak, lifts weights, squats, crunches, and then eats an abundance of fish. Some days, Eden swims for his endurance training and others he rests. And the process doesn't stop there; he also sails back into Saltwater Woods with Sanders to proceed with further improvement, wasting no time. Immediately upon arrival to the golden forest, Eden starts stretching his muscles. Next, he fights the wooden man, combining his own moves with the techniques he stole from the Gauntlet Legions. Finally, on to shadow boxing; Eden uses the same method he used with the dummy and strikes the air around him, striving to perfect his own fighting style. Even when the moon rises, Eden doesn't stop. While Sanders sleeps, he stays up and quietly executes push-ups, crunches, and squats in the living room.

At every dawn, The soreness of his muscles awakens Eden groaning, but he doesn't let that stop him and resumes his daily routine regularly. Training like there’s no tomorrow. He sweats buckets, and his muscles scream in pain. Sometimes, he falls flat on his face, and Sanders always shouts at him to get back up.

"Hey Eden!”

Eden’s concentration breaks to the sound of Sanders calling him from the forest. “Yeah?”

“It's done." Sanders smirks while taking off his hat and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Really?” Eden rushes to Sanders. “Show me!”

“Let’s go.”

The entrance has two walls that narrow into the obstacle course, blocking Eden from seeing what it looks like. "All right!" Eden yells while bouncing from foot to foot. He gets in front of the starting line and stretches to ready himself.

Sanders takes out a pocket watch to time him. "Ready whenever you are, son," he says, lifting his head from the pocket watch.

Eden takes position with his right foot in front of him. He inhales a deep breath, flooding his lungs with air. He jets. Eden runs through the narrow alley and approaches the first set of obstacles in a flash. There are wooden fences; they gradually grow taller as Eden jumps over them. The last pallet was the same height as his chest; he closes in on it in seconds and grabs the top of it then lifts himself off the ground, vaulting over it. Eden smirks as he lands, then keeps his pace up and dashes into the next obstruction. Massive walls surround him like he’s not in the forest anymore, leading downhill.

The enormous wooden obstacles have ropes that help Eden climb; he grabs onto one and pulls himself up. Eden manages to get to the top without breaking a sweat then he jumps to the next wall. He hops on top of the wooden walls, but his foot trips on a ledge, and he falls flat on his face. Eden grunts in pain, his face covered in dirt.

"Come on, Eden, get back up!" Sanders shouts from on top of a hill.

Eden quickly stands up from the ground and sprints at full speed. He encounters more fences, walls, and now boxes that are placed in random spots. He climbs on top of the nearest crate and leaps to grab a wall. Rising over it, Eden continues to dash but falls into a pit that’s camouflaged with leaves. His clothes are now the same shade as soil. He groans and climbs out of the hole, hopping on top of an obstacle. Eden vaults over multiple crates, then wall jumps over the pits like a monkey barely catching himself as he lands.

A row of wooden crossbars are lined up in front of him that leads down another hill. Eden slides through with his foot first. The sunlight flashes on his face as he passes countless bars then his feet touch a wooden log at the bottom. He pushes himself off of it. Soaring through the air, Eden grabs a hold on a wooden platform. The air inside him depletes as he struggles to pull himself on the platform. His abdominal screams in pain; Eden grits his teeth and lifts his leg on the scaffold, then his whole body.

The platform leads higher into the trees. It’s unbelievable how Sanders built this obstacle course. Eden can feel the passion in the wood; Sanders has poured so much sweat and effort in this. Eden can’t help but smile.

Sweat drenches Eden's entire body, but there's no rest for him. He immediately gets back on his feet and starts jumping through the trees. He hurdles onto branch after branch, then leaps off to grab another; he propels his body and swings onto a platform in front of him. Eden lands with multiple platforms lay ahead. He takes in a quick breath and sprints again, jumping through the wooden scaffolds and tree branches, closing in on the finish line.

At the end of the trail, some walls straightly align with each other to form a narrow path at the end of the obstacle course. Eden jumps off of a nearby tree and wall jumps. His strength dissipates, and he falls on his face once again.

"Get up, boy!" Sanders shouts, standing at the finish line. "You're not done yet!"

Out of breath and his muscles scream, but Eden will not let this stop him. He's just a few feet away from Sanders; he can see him in his favorite greyish green fishing vest, his arms crossed and his serious expression.

Eden grits his teeth and forces every inch of his body to move. He stands back up exhausted, covered in dirt, and his palms form calluses. Eden sprints with the last of his remaining strength and passes the end of the obstacle course. He falls back onto the ground, gasping, finally able to rest.

Sanders approaches Eden with a grin on his face. "Well done, son." His smile quickly fades, and he walks away toward the exit. "But you need to improve."

Eden chuckles and remains on the ground for a while longer.

* * *

Eden grins at himself as he dashes through the pier, seeing everything around him turn into short spans of color then quickly disappearing in his peripheral vision. His breathing is more controlled as he goes for his fifth lap and not gasping like he did a year ago. Instead of lifting buckets of water, now he curls cinder blocks tied with a rope and his veins bulge to the surface of his muscles. Even doing a hundred crunches is more effortless to him.

In the golden forest, Eden combines all five styles of the only knowledge he obtained from the Gauntlet Legions and manifests it into his own technique. His punches shoot as fast as bullets in the air, changing his fists to open palms; he shifts his aggressiveness to be flowier, coursing his arms up like a water’s tide, then thrusting his palms forward and quickly switching to a sturdier stance by planting his legs apart then launching his fist ahead. Then Eden dashes, lunging his elbow up, following up with his knee; he sweeps his back leg, leaps into the air spinning multiple kicks, and lands while keeping his balance.

During his training at the obstacle course, Eden leaps through with ease even implementing flips as he climbs on to platforms. His eyes zip around, looking for places to grab on. This time, dummies made of sand are placed everywhere to help him use this skill with the acrobatic style. Eden runs on a wall, jumps, twists his body in the air, swings his leg down, striking the neck of the dummy made of sand.

Sanders smirks and looks up toward the sky with his arms crossed. Then he gives Eden a stern look. "Good, you can hit them properly now, but can you actually apply it in real combat?" He waves his hand at a group of fishermen that just arrived. “These guys are willing to help you train, Eden.”

The fishermen look to be in their mid thirties, some are slim fit similar to Eden while others are huge and more muscular than him.

"Now, you will spar with ten men using your fists."

“Yeah, time to tough you up, Eden!” says one of the fishermen.

“We’ll help turn you into a real Legion in no time!” says another.

"All right!" Eden slams his fist into his palm loudly. "Let's do it! Let's do it!"

Eden and one of the fishermen stand a few feet apart while the others sit on the sidelines and Sanders raises his arm like he’s an arbiter. Eden plants his legs apart; he extends his right arm and raises the other to cover his left side. While the fisherman holds both of his arms up in a guard position. Then Sanders waves his arm like a chop and yells, "Begin!"

The fisherman charges at him and throws a straight right punch, but Eden quickly slaps it away. A hook follows up, and he ducks right under it. An opening! Eden takes the opportunity. His fist whistles in the air and pounds into the side of the fisherman's gut.

The fisherman groans loudly and tries to react. Eden swiftly throws another punch bashing his face, not letting him counter. His opponent gasps as if they can’t believe the speed and power. Eden rapidly turns his body around, pushes his leg off the ground, and slams his foot against the fisherman's stomach, sending him flying across the ground and crying out in pain.

From the sidelines, the group of fishers exclaim loudly at Eden and applaud him.

"Oh, sorry! I got a little too excited there." Eden runs to the fisherman and gives him a hand.

"Okay, who's next?" asks Sanders.

The men all smirk and raise their hands.

"I want to have a crack at Eden!"

"No, me!"

"I'll beat the living daylights out of him!"

Eden chuckles at them and gets into his stance, waving his finger at them. "Bring it on!"

The match goes on for the rest of the day, trading blows with each other and covering themselves in dirt and bruises.

Every other day, Eden fights with the group of fishermen with everything he has but loses on the seventh match. Each breath leaving his body is like a sharp dagger pressed to his lungs and the bruises increase from all the punches he’s received making him throb like a human sized heart. But none of these stops Eden from laughing with his family of fishermen after the bouts and giving them fist-bumps. After the fights, Sanders prepares everyone a bowl of fish soup on a campfire as they converse about Eden's fighting style.

The sparring matches start off with fists, but soon, Eden is now able to take down all ten men in a row. He even challenges them all to fight him at once, barely winning. Then the bouts become more aggressive, using wooden pole sticks as weapons, and Eden wielding a wooden sword and shield that Sanders made for him. Eden quickly adapts and implements all of his knowledge and skills into his Armament, defeating all of the fishermen with ease.

Eden roars along with Sanders and the group of fishermen in the golden forest, scaring flocks of birds out of trees, looking back on his training journey. The time he ran out of breath, running around the pier to dashing like the wind without breaking a sweat. Then the cries of his muscles as his arms tremble from lifting buckets of water build up to hoisting concrete blocks. Painful crunches, chased by a shark and stealing other Legion’s techniques. Onto hiking in Saltwater Woods, guided by a mystical deer to the golden forest. From doubts about imitating the stolen skills to creating his own style, training with the wooden dummy, learning how to rapidly traverse through obstacles, then beating his fellow fishermen friends in a fight.

Finally, Eden has done it. Chin high, looking up at the sky, a radiant grin glows across his face. I did it! I really did it! His goal to learn how to fight is over. Now, in every inch of muscle and in every joint in his body, is his own fighting style, his own path.