Chapter 38
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If there was one thing that Eric liked about Master Tokugawa’s test for his prospective students, it was the learning curve that came with it. As a gamer, Eric had always appreciated the times that games forced him to shift his paradigm. A new challenge that forced him to completely change his tactics. An intricate puzzle that defied all his usual tricks. These were all byproducts of a well-designed challenge, and Tokugawa’s test was that and more.

Head-on combat was out of the question, he thought. He also couldn’t sneak up on the man, a fact proven by the speed with which he’d been noticed the other day. Once he got within fifty feet of Ehran, the risk of discovery skyrocketed. He wondered idly if that was just a side-effect of his intensive training, or if he were using some kind of magic to achieve it. Either way, it was a solid barrier to any attempted sneak attack. Well, he told himself, normal sneak attacks anyway.

Eric had spent most of two days thinking it over, forgoing the chance to find another job. The gold he’d already gotten both from working and Samuel’s initial gift meant that he could afford to go up to three months without finding income, if he wanted to. This thought had made him incredibly bored at first, but he pushed the feeling away by coming up with new strategies. Hopefully the time would allow him to come up with a strategy that could surprise the strange Issho-Ni warrior.

It was this series of thoughts that had led him to his current predicament. Hanging off of a roof, staring down at a drop of nearly forty feet, cursing quietly as he felt his arms burning under his weight. He’d tried to jump from a nearby roof onto this one, but the recent rainstorm was still evident on this roof, and his foot had slipped. It was sheer luck that he hadn’t fallen; a conveniently placed shingle had made an excellent emergency handhold.

Eric had never exactly been afraid of heights, but nobody could look at such an intimidating drop without vertigo seizing them. A curious thing about vertigo, as he’d very recently discovered, is that it had a tendency to freeze you up so that you couldn’t think rationally. Your muscles went all stiff, which just made it harder for you to get them to do what you wanted. Even so, he had no desire to be here all night, so he forced himself to breathe deeply. Think it through, he told himself. You have the strength to pull yourself up. So get up, and let’s get going.

With an effort, he hauled himself up, grunting as he was forced to heave with just the one arm. Once he’d gotten most of his torso onto the roof, he was able to find another handhold, and the action was made a little easier. Finally, he hauled himself completely over, and the yawning drop vanished from view. He rolled onto his back on the flat rooftop, chest heaving as he tried to control his breath. That was not an experience he was keen to repeat.

Rising into a crouch, he found himself about ten feet from his chosen destination, a section of the Issho-Ni dojo’s rooftop. It afforded him a view over the patio of the second floors, a feature he’d spotted through careful consideration of the building. The masters of Issho-Ni slept on the second floor, each with their own private patio. The structures leaned away from the building, over the inner courtyard and sand garden that the rest of the building protected. It could either be a nice place to enjoy the starry sky or a way to achieve quiet peace for meditation.

More importantly, or so Eric had discovered, it also served as a way to enter the building without having to go by the guards posted at the entrance. Ehran had been clear that Eric could attack him at any time. Surely while he was sleeping counted, right? He wasn’t all too sure that others would view his plan favorably, but it was at least a plan that had a slight chance of success. If he could get into Ehran’s room without being noticed, he might be able to pass this test tonight. He didn’t actually intend to really attack him, but just tapping him with the weapon should work.

He made his way over to the drop carefully, all the while keeping his ears strained for the footsteps of nearby guards. Why weren’t there any guards posted on the rooftop? Did they think that nobody would risk the dangerous jump from the building closest to it? It was risky, but not impossible. He pushed the questions away, just thankful that he’d been able to gain access to it without being noticed.

It took him a while to find Ehran’s room, as there were very few hints that could be gleaned from the outside. His only option was to drop to his stomach and peer through the windows opposite him, trying to spot his target. He worked his way around the building, peering into each window, studying the figures sleeping there before moving on, and finally spotted him.

He was sleeping on a thin mattress on the floor, just like the others, tucked up under a blanket with his face turned toward the window. A strip of moonlight fell upon his face, illuminating his features to make them more obvious. A small metal object lay on the ground beside him, presumably his sword. To his surprise, Eric could see that his patio door, a thin paper door, was slid open to admit the night air. Too easy.

He worked his way slowly around the building once more, taking care to move as quietly as possible, keeping his Hide skill up the entire time. It took him nearly five minutes in this condition, but he bore it willingly, thinking happily of this time tomorrow, when he’d be a recognized student, and learning new skills that would serve him in the future. He just wished that the wood under his feet could stop creaking. He put his feet on the places where they were joined to move more quietly, but his approach still wasn’t silent.

Reaching the section of the roof directly over Ehran’s bedroom, he pulled himself quietly off the roof, swinging so that his legs dangled over the wooden patio, hanging by his hands. The drop to the pale wood boards was only two or three feet, and he managed to make virtually no noise as he landed, dropping into a crouch to absorb the shock of the movement. Casting a nervous glance at Ehran’s face, he heaved a silent sigh of relief. The warrior hadn’t moved and was still breathing deeply.

Now that he was closer, he could clearly make out the weapon laying on the floor beside him. It was within easy reach, placed between himself and the patio. If someone tried to attack the building, he could reach it and have it drawn before anyone reached him. Not a bad strategy, Eric thought. But its position was less advantageous in this situation, as it was also easily within his reach too.

He quickened his pace now that he was this close, taking two swift paces forward and planting his boot on the hilt of the sword, pinning it in place and preventing Ehran from grabbing it. Then he drew his own sword, quietly thankful that he’d remembered to oil the scabbard so that it made no noise as it slid out. He was just about to bring it down and tap Ehran on the chest with the blunt side when the warrior spoke.

“Good evening, Eric,” he said, his voice perfectly clear. “Would you like some tea?”

Eric flinched violently and jumped back. Ehran’s voice came so suddenly that it sounded like a shout in the silent night. Too late, he realized that he’d taken his foot off the sword, and moved in again to pin it once more. But Ehran’s hand seized the weapon before he could even take a full step, and the warrior was up in a flash. Before his blankets had even settled on the ground, Ehran had his blade free and pointed at Eric’s throat. For the second time in a week, Eric was frozen, finding himself staring down a length of metal at a serious face, an instant away from a very bloody death.

“I have some strawberry tea if you like,” he said, a faint smile curling across his face. “

Eric didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but his arm moved without his conscious thought. It whipped up and around, smacking Ehran’s blade to the side. The sound of metal on metal was deafening in the quiet air. There was a slight burning pain on Eric’s neck as Ehran’s sword nicked the skin, but he paid it no mind, cutting back and forth. Despite the fact that he’d been sleeping up until very recently, Ehran ducked both blows with amazing reflexes, then reached out to grab his collar.

Eric jumped back just in time, and Ehran’s fist closed on thin air. He was forced to pull it back as Eric aimed at it, then he thrust out with his own blade. The action took Eric by surprise, as it was the first time the master had actually attacked, instead of redirecting or grappling him. He leaned to the right, avoiding the tip of the weapon, and moved inside Ehran’s reach. He drew the shorter blade and made a long cut as he moved, dropping into a low lunge. It nearly worked.

Ehran twisted his body at the last possible second, and the long knife merely glanced at his bedclothes. Then he brought his knee up in one savage motion, slamming into Eric’s fist and knocking the blade out of it. Then the elbow of his sword arm came down and struck Eric between the shoulder blades. He grunted as he hit the boards of Ehran’s room and felt the air driven out of his lungs, then grimaced in pain as he felt his right arm bent back.

His other sword fell with a clatter as Ehran knocked it out of his grip. Thankfully, the master made no other attempt to attack or restrain him, and he was able to climb painfully into a sitting position. Ehran dropped gracefully to his knees in front of him, his smile widening as he watched Eric trying to drag in huge lungfuls of breath. He didn’t seem remotely annoyed at being attacked in the middle of the night. In fact, he seemed almost impressed.

“Not bad, Eric,” he said jovially. “You’re getting better. It’s still not enough, but definitely better.”

“Thanks,” Eric said begrudgingly, massaging his ribs. “I’m still nowhere near as fast as you, though.”

“I use magic to reinforce my body,” Ehran explained. He scooped up the scabbard of his sword and slid it home, setting the weapon at his side. “I have no intention of making it easy on you. But even without the magic, you’d still not touch me.”

“What am I doing wrong?” Eric asked, looking up to peer beseechingly at the warrior. “I made no noise on the roof as I dropped down, and I managed to get in before you could react to me dropping.”

“True, your entry into my room was very quiet,” Ehran agreed. “But you made quite a bit of noise as you jumped onto the roof a few minutes ago. I heard you almost fall. That wasn’t quiet by any means.”

“You heard me from all the way over here?” Eric spluttered. “But that’s nearly two hundred feet away!”

Ehran only shrugged. “I didn’t hear you, so much as I sensed you. Your intentions woke me up, and then I heard you clatter against the shingles.”

“So I have to hide my intent as well as my sounds?”

“If you choose to go the sneaky route, sure. I can’t recommend it, though."

Eric gaped at him, his mind reeling. Had Ehran just given him advice? It didn’t seem in character, somehow, with the carefree figure who had handed him the weapon over a week ago. He’d made it clear that he refused to teach him until he managed to land a hit. But here he was, advising him against attempting his goal the sneaky route. It could merely be a reminder to try and go about it legally, but he didn’t think so.

“Right,” he said finally, rising to his feet and collecting his weapons, sheathing them. “Thanks for putting up with my attempt, and sorry for waking you up. Good night.”

He made to move to the door, but Ehran cleared his throat, stopping him. When he turned back with a raised eyebrow, Ehran pointed towards the patio. He was telling Eric to leave the same way he’d come. Shrugging, but seeing no point in arguing, he complied. It was much trickier going up, but he managed it, his head still full of the tip he’d been given. He’d have to find some other way to improve his skills so that he could succeed in honest combat.

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