The Prince of Astoria-Chapter 66: LXVI - SNOW IN THE DESERT (Part 2)

Six months later...

Jeremy walked back to his detached home from the training ground on the far side of the village. The sun was a pale yellow dot in the sky, barely illuminating anything on the foggy, wintry day.

He stomped through the shallow snow and glared at his fellow students doing various activities. Some trained, some talked, and some lay sprawled out on the ground, trying to catch their breath.

Jeremy looked up at the sky as snow flurries fell lightly.

"I’ve been here two years now, and there hasn’t been a single day where it hasn’t snowed. It’ll snow violently for a few days, then it’ll slow down and melt just enough for us to see the grass, before it repeats all over again. It’s like we’re trapped in the same week..."

Jeremy stretched his shoulder out as he weaved through the snow-covered houses.

"The training is getting easier and easier by the day," He looked down at the black circles in the middle of his palm, "Controlling my chi plus my natural strength has made me nearly unstoppable. I haven’t been hit in weeks."

He entered his home with a smile, "Fox! They haven’t served us our meal for the day yet, so we may..."

Jeremy’s blood immediately ran cold as he scanned the small room. Not only did he not find the orange fox, he spotted a blood trail leading outside through the back porch.

He raced outside and found three of his fellow students stomping on the orange fox as it lay in a pool of blood.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Jeremy screamed out, completely unable to contain his rage.

One assailant, Number Three, stopped and turned to him as the other two continued their assault.

"What’s the problem, Number Seven," Number Three questioned, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "We caught this little rodent snooping around your place and we chose to dispose of it for you. You should be thanking us."

The other two boys snickered and continued to step on the fox.

"If you lay one more finger on that fox, I’ll hurt you all worse than master does," Jeremy stated, as if it was a forgone conclusion. His voice was low, but the anger was palpable.

The other two boys stopped immediately and backed away from the fox with their hands up. Number Three glanced at the two boys before gripping the sword sheathed at his side.

"Look at you cowards. Are you really scared of him? You’re scared of Number Seven and his ’extra muscle mass’," The last words were dripping with contempt, "This is the real world. No matter how many muscles you have, it can’t protect you from a sword strike!"

Number Three quickly pulled out his sword and slashed Jeremy across the chest, much to the surprise of the other boys.

Jeremy frowned, completely unfazed by the attack, "When the strikes are as weak as yours, muscles can do quite a bit. And chi does the rest."

Jeremy dodged a follow up strike by ducking down. He grabbed a log submerged slightly in the snow and slammed it into Number Three. He flew into Jeremy’s detached house and crashed through the wall.

The two other boys scrambled over to Number Three to check on his condition. The young man laid face down, a pool of blood beginning to form around him.

"Go get the master," Jeremy commanded, "This is ending today. You’ve crossed the line."

One of the boys scrambled to their feet and ran to the courtyard, while the other stayed with Number Three.

A few minutes later, Yasuke arrived, his sword already drawn and a scowl on his face.

"What’s the meaning of this, Number Seven?" He shouted angrily.

"Don’t call me that," Jeremy responded coolly. He drug the log across the snow, "I’m not going to be one of your little tools anymore, Yasuke."

Jeremy laughed and grabbed his forehead, "Yasuke. That’s hilarious. You’re not Yasuke. I bet you’re not even related to him," Jeremy smiled at him, "No, I know what you are, master. You’re a tyrant, a sadist who tortures us to death and calls it training. You’re not Yasuke. You’re looking for a Yasuke."

Jeremy’s cheerful demeanor immediately shifted into a frown, "You convince gullible, desperate families to give up their children to you, and for what? What happens to the kids who somehow survive this training?"

"Don’t worry about it. You’ll never find out."

Yasuke closed the distance between them in one step and slashed at Jeremy. Jeremy held up the thick log like a shield, and it bounced off.

"He may not be the real Yasuke from the stories I read, but he’s still a skilled swordsman, nonetheless. I can’t let my guard down."

Yasuke unleashed blindingly fast strikes one after the other, but Jeremy deflected them with the log comfortably. Yasuke’s agitation grew visibly, and he increased the speed of his attacks, but still could not touch Jeremy.

"You ungrateful little brat!" He spat out, "I gave you a home! I gave you strength! I gave you a purpose! And this is how you repay me?"

Jeremy continued to block each attack, "You didn’t give me strength. I was born with it."

A forward thrust from Yasuke caused his sword to get stuck in the log, and Jeremy took the opportunity to punch Yasuke in his side, sending him to one knee.

"That’s enough, Yasuke. You’re embarrassing yourself," A voice called out from behind Jeremy. Jeremy turned around to find a pale middle aged man with visible laugh lines walking leisurely. The man had ghostly white hair and a short black katana with Japanese words engraved into it. The pale man walked over to Yasuke and put a soft hand on his shoulder.

The pale man laughed softly,"You’re making me look bad, man. Are you telling me this kid is keeping up with you after training for only two years? Looks like you have a long way to go."

Yasuke rose to his feet shakily, "Master...I’m sorry. He’s just...he’s..."

The pale man patted his back and nodded his head, "It’s okay Yasuke, I get it. Seems like you’ve found a real prodigy here. A diamond in the rough. Congratulations."

He turned to Jeremy and slow clapped, "And you? You’ve proved your point, my friend. You’re the strongest person in this sad, cold little village. Maybe you’re the real Yasuke," the pale man joked.

"And who are you supposed to be?" Jeremy roared, still brandishing the log.

The pale man smiled softly, "Me? I’m...well, it’d just go over your head. You can just call me Guy Yamato. That’s what everyone else calls me now. I’m your master’s master. And I’m a true student of Miyamoto Musashi. The real Yasuke was one of my contemporaries."

Jeremy roared, "More lies! That would make you over five hundred years old!"

Guy rubbed his chin and grinned, "I look good for my age, don’t I? I don’t look a day over fifty. You’ll get to this level eventually once you perfect you perfect your chi control."

Jeremy took a step back, "If what you say is remotely true, then you’re the mastermind behind all of this. Why? I don’t get it!"

Guy nodded his head and played with the sword at his side, "I need powerful allies. I’ve searched across the world, time and time again, but I haven’t been able to find what I need. Or they didn’t last long. They have their own goals, aspirations...whatever. So I decided, why not try to make some myself?"

Guy motioned to the village, "This place is an example of one of the more...extreme methods I’ve tried to employ. It’s been largely unsuccessful, but out of all the weak, useless kids we’ve had to discard, we came across you! So that’s a plus. You should feel proud."

Jeremy stared at him silently, still brandishing the log in front of him.

"I’ll tell you what, Number Seven...no, Jeremy. I’ll tell you what, Jeremy, why don’t you take your master’s place as my disciple? The things he taught you only scratched the surface, why don’t I teach you the real secrets to being a master?" Guy let out a hearty laugh, "And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re stronger than ol’ Yasuke here."

He patted Yasuke on the back once more.

All the other students gathered around the scene and watched on in confusion.

"I want nothing to do with you or your twisted goals!" Jeremy screamed out, "I’m leaving! And you won’t stop me!"

In less than a second, Guy stood in front of Jeremy and tapped the handle of his katana against Jeremy’s chin.

"Unfortunately for you, you’re not strong enough to enforce your will. I’ll tell you what, if you can beat me in a fight, you can join me, leave, kill me, whatever you want. But if I win, I’ll banish you to the wintry expanse with nothing but the clothes on your back. What do you say?"