The shot thundered through the training ground like a detonated charge. The weapon kicked back savagely, far beyond anything Jiang Ning had felt before. It wasn't the sharp snap of a rifle or the familiar shove of recoil, this was a full-bodied impact, a violent transfer of force that tore through his arms and shoulders in a single brutal instant.
His feet skidded across the packed earth. His stance shattered. For a fraction of a second, his balance was gone.
The muzzle jerked skyward. The shot went wider than he intended.
Jiang didn't curse. He didn't tense. His breath didn't even hitch.
He let the force carry him.
The recoil twisted his body sideways, but instead of fighting it, he followed the motion, rolling his shoulder, shifting his grip, letting momentum drag the weapon into a new line. His boots dug in hard as his heels bit the ground.
Before the first bullet had finished ricocheting off the metal frame Anthony had been using as a weight rack, Jiang fired again.
The second report cracked the air.
The timing was razor-thin.
The second round struck the first mid-bounce, the impact sparking briefly as metal met metal at an impossible angle. The redirected shot screamed away in a warped arc, and slammed cleanly into the distant target with a dull, solid thud.
Silence fell.
Dust drifted lazily through the open training ground. The target swayed once, then stilled, a clean hole punched dead center.
Jiang lowered the weapon slightly, shoulders rising and falling once as he steadied his breathing. His arms burned, not painfully, but with the deep, heavy ache of strain pushed just past its limit.
Behind him, Anthony Olliver hadn't spoken.
When he finally did, his voice carried open disbelief.
"…You actually landed it."
Jiang turned his head slightly. "Barely."
Anthony let out a short laugh, sharp and incredulous. "No. Don't undersell it. I expected you to be on your back."
He stepped closer, eyes flicking briefly to the target before returning to Jiang. "I didn't think you'd recover fast enough to even attempt a correction, let alone pull off something like that."
Jiang glanced down at the weapon in his hands. Even at rest, it felt heavy, unnaturally so. The reinforced frame, the thick barrel, the dense internal structure designed to withstand repeated ricochets all added up to a brutal mass.
"Maybe if I used mana I could've handled it better," Jiang said calmly.
"Even with mana," Anthony continued, slower now, "most people wouldn't have stabilized that recoil. They'd either overcorrect or hesitate. You didn't do either." His gaze sharpened. "You adjusted by instinct. Timing, not force."
Jiang was quiet for a moment. Then he shook his head slightly.
"The weapon's powerful," he said. "Too powerful."
Anthony didn't interrupt.
"It hits harder than anything I've used," Jiang went on. "But the weight, the recoil… I can handle it for a moment. Not for a full fight atleast not yet." He flexed his fingers once, feeling the lingering tremor in his muscles. "My mana control isn't refined enough to offset the strain. If I force it, I'll break something before the enemy does."
Anthony studied him, then smiled, slow, approving, and entirely without mockery.
"That's the right answer."
He gestured to the massive rifle resting against a rack nearby, his own. "This thing weighs more than that one," he said plainly. "And at my age, if I skip weight training for even a week, I feel it."
Jiang raised an eyebrow slightly.
Anthony shrugged. "There's no trick to it. Strength is trained. Control is earned. Weapons don't adapt to you, you adapt to them." He paused, then added, "If you really master that thing, you won't just match my style. You'll surpass it."
Jiang didn't respond right away. He looked at the weapon again, not with excitement, but with consideration.
This weapon fits me… but I don't fit it yet.
Anthony watched him closely. When Jiang didn't boast, didn't smile, didn't immediately ask for ownership, something in the older man's expression shifted.
"That reaction," Anthony said quietly, "is exactly why I wanted you to try it."
Jiang looked up.
Anthony exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I have a student that should be the same age as you," he said. "He's talented, strong and far too comfortable."
He met Jiang's eyes squarely. "He's reached the realm of Transcendental, a level most knights never touch so he thinks that's enough."
Jiang didn't speak, but he understood immediately.
"Stagnation," Anthony continued, voice firm, "kills more warriors than weakness ever will. He believes talent will carry him the rest of the way. I don't."
Anthony turned, looking out across the training ground. "What you just did, acknowledging your limits instead of pretending they aren't there, that's something he's never done."
He faced Jiang again. "I want you to duel him."
Jiang nodded once. "Alright."
No hesitation. No conditions.
Anthony blinked, then chuckled. "You didn't even ask who he is."
"That doesn't matter, doing this for you is the least I could do," Jiang replied.
Anthony stilled.
Jiang's gaze drifted briefly, unfocused, as memory surfaced unbidden.
I didn't need to ask because I know exactly who you are talking about...
He'd faced him before, years later, on a battlefield soaked in blood. He'd seen what it took to finally break through that pride. He knew the lesson that had reshaped him.
If I can accelerate that moment… I will.
Anthony studied Jiang for a long moment, then nodded as if something had finally settled in his mind.
"Come," he said. "I'll introduce you."
They crossed the training ground together. At Anthony's gesture, one of the attendants moved quickly, returning moments later with a young man in tow.
He was tall, muscular and composed.
The rifle he carried was unmistakable, a scaled replica of Anthony's own, nearly as tall as he was, resting easily against his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all.
His expression was cool. Detached.
Anthony spoke first. "Jiang Ning. This is my student."
The young man's eyes flicked to Jiang, sharp and assessing. "Lucien Heart."
During the war this man was only known as "The Unbroken Line".
Lucien's gaze hardened slightly. "I've heard of you," he said flatly. "You defeated my master."
Jiang said nothing.
Lucien continued, tone edged with confidence. "Don't mistake that for superiority. He was holding back."
Jiang met his stare calmly.
I forgot how arrogant he was, he thought. Before I took him down.
Lucien's eyes were cold, measuring Jiang with open disdain. There was no curiosity there, no excitement, only the quiet certainty of someone who had never truly been stopped.
Anthony let the silence linger for a moment before speaking.
"Lucien," he said evenly, "Jiang has issued a challenge for a duel."
Lucien frowned. "A duel?" He glanced at Jiang again, then looked away. "I'm not interested."
Anthony raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.
"I've already surpassed the level of idle sparring," Lucien continued, voice flat. "If this is about reputation, I don't need it. And if it's about proving something-" His lips curled faintly. "-there's nothing to prove."
Jiang stepped forward before Anthony could respond.
"You make a good point," he said calmly.
Lucien's gaze snapped back to him.
"Now that I think about it I have no reason to fight you," Jiang went on, tone almost thoughtful. "After all, I've already defeated your master. What could you possibly offer in comparison?" He tilted his head slightly. "You're only a student."
The air tightened.
Anthony's mouth twitched. He turned slightly, voice stern as if agreeing. "He has a point, Lucien. If that's the case, perhaps this duel-"
"Stop."
Lucien's voice cut through the space, sharp and controlled, but his jaw was tight now, his composure cracked just enough to show heat beneath.
"I accept," he said through clenched teeth. His eyes burned as they locked onto Jiang. "I refuse to have you believe you are better than my master. You will regret your words."
Anthony cleared his throat, expression unreadable. "Very well."
Jiang turned away without another word and walked toward the weapon rack. He stopped before the massive rifle, the one designed for ricochet alone, and rested his hand against its frame.
He closed his eyes.
Mana stirred, flowing deliberately, wrapping around his grip. The weight settled in his hands, it wasn't light, but it was manageable.
Anthony watched closely. "Are you sure you want to use that one?" he asked.
Jiang opened his eyes. "Yes."
Anthony nodded once. "Very well."
They took their positions at opposite ends of the training ground.
Lucien stood straight, rifle resting against his shoulder, expression once more locked behind cool indifference.
Jiang faced him calmly, the unfamiliar weapon heavy in his hands, his focus absolute.
Between them, the ground lay empty.
Anthony watched the exchange, saying nothing.