As the stream moulded jagged rocks to smooth pebbles, it imprinted upon Vera's eyes.
The gazebo's coarse wooden railing left red marks on Vera's arms.
Each day, Vera saw hundreds of fish swim through the stream, soon escaping into Chongju Lake.
At first he didn't understand why Ezra asked him to watch the stream. But as the days passed, Vera touched upon the blurred visage of the dao.
Each passing fish brought him closer to a hidden flavour.
As Vera gazed upon the stream, steaming tea turned to still water.
"What is your attachment?" His voice flowed steady and clear.
Born in an alcove of smoothed rocks, the fish knew not of a world beyond it.
"Is it a sense of home that holds you back? The world beyond holds promise unknown—what are you afraid of?"
The current's undulations mirrored eyes that gazed back at Vera. Yet, it held no answers for him.
The morning sun crept into noon; its roof obscuring sunlight, the gazebo turned dark.
A low breath escaped Vera as he stepped away from the railing.
"How long have I been here today?" he spoke.
Vera picked up the cup of tea he had left on the table; it was cold to the touch.
He had gazed upon the stream for nearly a month now. No matter how his thoughts changed, his tea always ran cold by the time he was done.
After taking a sip of his tea, Vera picked up his halberd and leaped onto a stone platform in the centre of the lake.
The sound of his fluttering robes was replaced by a low tremor as he landed on the platform.
"Grandfather, can you manifest the shadow again?" He asked, looking at the gazebo.
Without much delay, a dull shadow appeared at the far end of the platform.
"Thank you!" Vera spoke as he turned to the shadow; his halberd was now set onto his shoulder.
The sound of the world around Vera went out of focus as he gazed at the shadow; without much more waiting, Vera's leading foot pressed into the cold stone platform.
In an instant he closed the distance between himself and the shadow; the halberd that rested against his shoulder swung to the ground.
The dull shadow leapt away from Vera's crashing blade. Roaring winds that followed Vera's blade brushed the shadow's body.
Having lowered his torso, Vera thrust his halberd's spiked tip at the retreating shadow.
Rising Crescent—thrusting point.
The movement's name resounded through his mind as it came to an end.
As the blade thrust toward the shadow, it contorted its torso to dodge the blow and escaped to Vera's left side.
Calloused palms gripped at the shaft's centre.
Vera's left foot splayed, following the retreating shadow.
The muscles in Vera's legs tightened as he shifted his centre of gravity to his left side.
Dust followed as Vera's weapon flew from a low guard to an upper guard.
The dim shadow stood at the platform's edge. Its hollow eyes scanned Vera's every movement as it prepared for his next attack.
The upper guard shifted into a right steer guard.
Vera split the distance between him and the shadow in less than a second.
The halberd's blade cut diagonally from Vera's left shoulder to his right foot. The weapon's staff end veered to his left to constrain the shadow's options for retreat.
The shadow followed the attack's tangent, the blade's edge almost cutting through its chest, and escaped to the platform's right corner.
Descending crescent—shortened slash.
Vera's thoughts tapered off as he dashed to the shadow.
His weapon shifted into a middle guard.
Its edges blocked off all paths from which the shadow could escape.
The shadow scanned all things on the platform intensely, looking for a way out. The sound of the two dashing across the platform stilled, soon turning into complete silence.
The shadow gave off a resigned expression and silently bowed at Vera. Now that there was no escape, the shadow dissipated into the air.
Vera loosened his stance and walked to where the shadow stood. The tip of his finger brushed against the ground on which the shadow stood.
Of course, there was no sign of anything on the ground.
"It's still not moving until I attack...?"
Vera's breath stilled; the gleam in his eyes sheathed itself.
What changed?
The Dao was there, yet its flavour remained hidden.
Quiet steps echoed to the lake's depths as Vera returned to the platform's edge. Before he could ask, the shadow appeared at the far end again.
A quiet grin crept onto Vera's face; he dashed toward the shadow again.
Golden arcs formed through the air as the sun's radiance reflected off the blade's polished edge.
Each iteration ended in the same number of movements regardless of the changes in Vera's stance.
As the sun fell to the horizon, iterations grew over a hundred, and the shadow's path began resembling that of the koi that lived in the lake.
Before he realised, Vera found himself standing at the edge of the platform, a thick layer of sweat sticking to his skin. Vera stared into the horizon as he enjoyed a moment of stillness.
Soon leaves rustled at the lake's shore. Sword Dog walked through the canopy of trees that hid the waterfall; his maw dragged the limp corpse of a peak-grade orc along.
"Woof woof." Birds frantically flew away from the trees surrounding Sword Dog as he called for Vera's attention.
"Another Peak grade? You've been on a roll for the past few days, buddy!" Vera spoke as he rested the base of his halberd against the stone platform; the flat expression on his face disappeared as he looked at Sword Dog.
Sword Dog ran in circles; its tail wagged excitedly from Vera's praise.
Vera looked back at the gazebo.
"Grandfather! I'm roasting orc meat for dinner again; do you want some?"
The wind beside Vera fluttered for a moment; Ezra's hooves clattered against the platform.
"No need to scream. I can hear you... Wash up first; I'll start the fire." Ezra remarked as he walked towards Sword Dog.
The sheathed gleam in Vera's eyes returned.
"Yes, Grandfather. I'll see you at the shore."
Water splattered against the platform as Vera jumped into the lake.
***
Meanwhile, at the border of the Deep Cold.
Man and woman alike stared at the Kijin as he walked across the street.
With a contorted expression, the Kijin pulled at the seams of his new robe.
"Human, why must I wear these trifling robes?" He spoke as he stared at Danho.
"I can't have you walking around in the rags you wore in the forest. And call me Danho."
The two bickered as they walked to the Deep Cold's border. Behind them stood a short man; only the top of his head was visible from Danho and the Kijin's shoulder.
"Senior, why have you asked for me to follow you?" Elem asked Danho. His tone ran unsteady; standing beside two of the world's strongest experts had clearly shaken him.
"Did Senior Leng not inform you? I'll be training you for the next five years. And call me Danho."
The colour drained from Elem's skin.
"You will be training me? For the next five years?" Elem's sentences broke into fragments.
The sound of leather being ripped open interrupted Danho and Elem.
The Kijin was bent over, clawing away at the new pair of shoes that Danho had bought for him.
"Stop that immediately! Do you know how hard it was for me to find a pair of shoes that fit you?" Danho shouted at the Kijin as he pulled his claws away from the shoes.
"Human, why must I restrain my feet with this thing you call 'shoo'?"
"They are called 'shoes'; you must wear those to keep your feet clean. And call me Danho!" Danho retorted; veins bulged through his forehead.
"Why must I keep my feet clean? Why must I call you Danho?"
"You must keep your feet clean because I said so. And you must call me Danho because that is my name!"
The Kijin turned silent as he scratched his chin; his expression turned pensive.
"Ok, I will listen to you... Danho. And call me Santa from now on."
"Huh... Why do you want me to call you Santa?" Danho asked; he wondered why the Kijin wanted to be named after a character of the Deep Cold's folklore.
"Because that is my name." The Kijin responded; looking at Danho's unsatisfied expression, he added, "And because I said so...?"
The veins on Danho's forehead spread to his neck; he was barely restraining the urge to start the Kijin—Santa's training right now.
"Fine... I'll call you Santa. For now, let's just head to the border. Elem, I'll explain the rest to you once we get on the carriage I prepared..." As Danho was speaking, he realised Elem was disappearing into the horizon.
"Unlike me, Santa, the scrawny human, is running away." The Kijin spoke, his claw-like fingers inching towards his shoes again.
Danho's teeth were gritted; for the first time in half a century, he felt like coughing blood out of anger.
"I can tell... Santa. And don't you dare try tearing your shoes again."
Danho was employing restraint far beyond his threshold. Without saying another word, he dashed towards Elem.
"I've made up my mind. I'll knock both of them out for now."
And so the world's second strongest man walked to his carriage with two unconscious men on his shoulders.
As he walked to the carriage, he thought to himself.
Talented people sure are eccentrics...