When Swords Turn Black

Chapter 4: When We Train Together



"Nine hundred and ninety-four." The sun was setting and Samson was shirtless, his hoodie tied around his waist, in the forest. "Nine hundred and ninety-five." He practiced his sword swings against a tree, crucifix in hand. "Nine hundred and ninety-six." His swings were powerful, but he'd stop himself before he'd cut the tree. "Nine hundred and ninety-seven." Sweat beamed down his chest but he would not stop til… His phone rang. "Hello?" Samson answered.

"Did you know that having a crucifix was illegal?" Omari asked, just to hear Samson laugh nervously. "And you didn't tell me! I carried that thing to school every day for like a month."

"Why didn't you leave it at home?" Samson dropped his crucifix and sat down on a nearby tree stump.

"I didn't want my dad to catch it and what good would it do me if I left it at home?"

"Good call and from what I hear it did you good?"

"Yeah, yeah it did. But I forgot I had it for a while, so I deserve the scars I got."

"Stupid. Also, scars? Have you looked in a mirror yet?" Omari quickly turned on his phone's camera to see no burns on his face. "I visited you when you were passed out and the slayer had you treated by one of their healers, so we aren't gonna be twins just yet."

"Sam, do you think I could be a slayer?"

"You know slayers don't only slay monsters? I don't know if you can do that." 

"Can I get back to you later?'

"Cool." Samson ended the call and picked up his cross. "Ninety eight." He cut into the tree. "Ninety nine." Then again. Then, with a scream, cut down the tree.

Samson huffed and puffed. He put away his sword, put on his jacket and left the forest, half of which he had already cut down. He walked home and arrived in time for dinner. While he was eating, his aunt tried talking to him, but he seemed more interested in his food than he was in talking to her. When he was done, he would go to the bathroom and enter an ice bath. The slayer school entrance exam was in about a month, and he wasn't planning on wasting any of that time. With that in mind, he fell asleep in the bath. He woke up the next day, and left the house before his aunt was awake, as usual, but outside the house, someone was waiting for him. "Hey Sam." Omari said. "I thought if I came here early, I would catch you before you leave."

"Don't you have school?"

"It ended while I was still hospitalized. Look, I thought about it and I can't do it, but that won't stop me from trying to save even those I got to slay."

Samson couldn't help but smile, "You really are something else. So is that why you came here? Just to tell me something you could have said over the phone."

"Nah, I came here for you to train me. Last time I didn't beat the salamander. I wasn't fast enough to keep up with it. I wasn't strong enough to tank its hits, and I wasn't smart enough to see through its tricks. So I want to train with you so that next time I wouldn't need to stall."

Samson started walking away. "Then keep up." And bursted into a sprint. Omari quickly followed.

Every day for the next month, they do ten 400m sprints, 200 weighed one armed push ups, 200 one legged squats, an two hour dragon flag, an hour long meditation surrounded by fire, and lastly 1000 sword swings. The first 400m sprint exhausted Omari, preventing him from completing the rest. He could barely do 50 weighted pushups and squats, and that was with all his arms and legs. He didn't know what a dragon flag was, but when shown, he decided he'd do that next week. The meditation was supposed to be easy, but the heat made it hard to breathe and reminded him of the salamander, making it hard to clear his mind. Lastly, he couldn't do more than 100 sword swings before the skin on his hands began to blister, but the next day, Omari was back and they continued.

By the end of the week, after the sword slashes, Omari was about to go home, but Samson said, "Wait, let's spar."

"Spar?" Omari turned back and asked, "Here in the forest, after just having worked out?"

Samson threw him the crucifix before picking up a thick stick for himself. "Yeah, the tree stumps and cut down trees will mean you got to watch your foot and the standing tree will allow you to flank and be flanked. Lastly, you'll never find yourself ready to fight, so right now, while we're both tired, would be the best time to spar."

"And when will we stop?" Omari got into his stance.

"You'll know when," Samson said and when Omari blinked, he was gone. Then his spine tingled, he turned around and with the crucifix blocked Samson's high slash. He was faster than the salamander. 

Omari pushed Samson back with his sword before sending off a flurry of slashes. Samson jumped back and spun midair, barely avoiding the slashes. 

"Sorry!" Omari said. "It was a reflex."

"It's fine," Samson said, but it was hard to dodge something he couldn't see. "If you go easy on me, I might kill you." One mistake and he would be cut open, but it only made the fight more exciting. Dashed back behind the trees, and Omari could no longer sense him. He then closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sensed it. He opened his eyes to block another slash from the side and sliced through Samson's stick. Samson dropped the stick, and, with a one hand push, sent Omari flying into a tree. Omari quickly ducks and dodges Samson's punch that splits the tree. "He was as strong as a salamander." Omari jumped back but his feet hit a tree trunk and he began to fall but Samson caught him. 

"This is where we stop." He pulled him up to his feet, then left. "You lasted about thirty seconds. Next week, I'll hold back less." And so the weeks began to pass and each week Omari did more and lasted longer in the sparring match til the last week. Samson started using a metal rod as he got tired of his sticks being cut. For the first time, Omari got fast enough to start clashing swords with Samson. It would be clear, though, that Samson was on the offensive and Omari was barely holding on. With every slash Samson took, Omari was being pushed back, but then suddenly trees toppled and fell on Samson and pinned him to the ground. "One minute and twenty-four seconds," Omari huffed. "That's how long you lasted. Hold back less next time."

Samson had the biggest smile. "You redirected slashes in the middle of the fight to cut the trees down? Smart, how sure were you that I would survive trees falling on me?"

"I wasn't sure…" He puffed. "That it would hold you down." They both laughed.

Omari helped pull him out before they sat down. "We won't continue this next week." Samson said.

"Why?" Omari asked. "The entrance exam is next week. We can't waste any time."

"That's why we need to rest. You'd hate to be worn out, but the time for the exam comes." Omari understood and rested the next week, but Samson could never rest while he was still weak, so alone he continued. He would come to regret his decision because during the exam he would come to face off against the greatest talent within the competition. His competition was born to be a slayer because his father was one and no matter how much a human trained, no man could ever dodge lightning.


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