THE LAST WARRIOR REVENGE

Training

Barata smiled at Arga, who was burning with curiosity about the villains who had slaughtered the Sect where Arga used to live.

“If you know, what will you do? Your skills are so weak. You can’t even dodge small thrown stones, let alone parry a sword stroke from a great warrior. You’d be dead!” said Barata, making Arga’s face flush with embarrassment and anger.

“Then what should I do, grandfather?” Arga asked.

The old man’s eyes bulged, making Arga feel uneasy.

“I’ve already helped you, given you medicine, and fed you — and now you ask to be taught? Whose child are you, boy!? How dare you bargain without paying! Huh!” Barata scolded, and Arga’s stomach tightened at once.

Seeing the young man’s sullen face, the old man smiled.

“Do you still feel pain now?” he asked.

Arga shook his head.

“A little, but it’s nothing,” he answered curtly.

“Then take that axe. Cut the wood exactly the same as the piece that’s already cut — not too long, not too short,” the old man ordered, pointing to the wood.

“Now?” Arga asked, surprised.

“Tomorrow, you fool! No — now! That wood will be sold at the market to buy rice and your medicine!” Barata snapped, annoyed.

Arga stepped forward reluctantly and took the axe.

“Remember: it must be the exact same size. If you fail one cut, your food ration will be reduced by one portion!” the old man said, and Arga gripped the axe tightly, holding back the rising anger.

“You’d better use your anger to split more wood! Make your anger more useful than your body!” Barata added, which only made Arga angrier.

With a single swing, Arga split the wood. He smiled faintly.

“Again. This is easy,” Arga said, then cut another piece.

Barata stood up and picked up the pieces Arga had made.

His eyes widened. Then he threw the wood to the ground.

“I told you it must be exactly the same size as the pieces I made! Are you stupid or foolish? Useless!” he barked.

Arga could only stand silent and restrain his anger. He had grown used to being berated like this back at the Golden Step Sect.

Back then, Bhirawa was the one who teased him the most. Bhirawa always did something to make Arga’s life difficult. Bhirawa was a talented disciple and Arga was a slow learner.

Recalling those events, Arga angrily continued cutting the wood while Barata judged whether the pieces matched the size he demanded.

There were many failures when Arga cut the wood.

Out of two hundred pieces, one hundred and sixty pieces differed from Barata’s.

“Remember, for one hundred and sixty days, your food ration will be reduced by one portion each day,” Barata said, which infuriated Arga.

But Arga could not argue. He simply obeyed because he was lodging under someone’s roof.

“Tomorrow, take me to the market. Remember, before the rooster crows, you must already be up and have the wood ready,” Barata instructed.

Arga could only nod.

“Now, fetch water from the river and fill that large container to the brim,” the old man said, leaving Arga stunned.

He was not yet rested, and now there was another, more tiring order.

“When I cared for you while you slept up there, I filled that container twice every day, alone with no one to help. The need for water increased. So don’t ask why I tell you to fetch water from the river,” Barata explained.

Arga said nothing. He reluctantly took a container made of animal hide and started drawing water from the river.

Two hours later, the large water container was full. Arga wiped the sweat that trickled down his forehead.

“Good, today you worked well. Rest a while. I still need your help,” Barata said, making Arga’s face even more sullen.

The young man lay down under a tree. Fatigue and sleepiness made his body lean against the trunk. Suddenly...

“Duk!” — Arga’s foot was kicked.

Startled, he sprang to his feet.

Barata laughed at Arga’s annoyance after purposely kicking his foot.

“Hey, boy! If that had been a sword coming at you, your foot would be gone. Maybe your neck would be cut!” the old man said.

Arga felt embarrassed and angry. He truly felt like a weak youth. He couldn’t even sense another person’s presence; if someone had bad intentions, he would surely be in danger.

“Don’t daydream so much — it will lower your concentration. Come with me, I need your help!” the old man said, placing a cloth sack before Arga.

For a moment Arga felt like a slave. But remembering what Barata had done to save his life, this small labor was a minimal repayment for the old man’s kindness.

Finally Arga followed the old man into the forest. He didn’t know what he would be asked to do.

When they reached the foot of a cliff, Barata stopped.

He craned his neck upward searching for something. At last his keen eyes gleamed.

“Now, look up there! Do you see a little green stone?” he asked.

Arga looked in the direction the old man pointed. The sunlight dazzled his eyes, but he caught a glimpse of a small green, shining stone.

“I see it!” Arga said.

“Really!? I was only lying — my old eyes could not possibly see a green stone that far!” Barata said, surprising Arga.

“Then you were only guessing!?” Arga asked incredulously. Barata only chuckled softly.

“Now that you have seen the stone, try to get it!” Barata ordered.

Arga fell silent for a moment. His anger flared again, but he tried to control it.

“If you manage to take that stone, then the one hundred and sixty portions cut from your ration will be reduced to one hundred and the punishment will become sixty portions. Consider the one hundred portions as the reward for retrieving that green stone,” the old man said, and Arga thought for a moment.

Finally he agreed. He began to climb the steep cliff slowly. It was his first time scaling a cliff.

“Damn, the rock is slippery!” Arga cursed inwardly, feeling as though he had been a hard laborer all day.

But he kept going. He steeled his determination to reach the green stone.

Barata smiled at Arga’s persistence.

Although every finger stung and was blistered, Arga kept trying to reach the green stone.

Difficulties arose again. There were no more rocks to hold on to, while the distance between him and the stone was still about twelve feet.

He looked down. If he climbed down without success, his ration would still be reduced by one hundred and sixty portions.

“Damn... should I jump?”

After thinking for a moment he decided to leap.