Chapter 251: Master and Disciple as One (1)

Kain felt like he was going to lose his mind from the pressure. To stand before everyone and teach someone of Ketal’s caliber, a true Hero, a being whose power far surpassed even the greatest of warriors, was almost too much to bear. Kain himself was no weakling. He was counted among the ranks of the Transcendents, someone who had never had to bow his head in shame, no matter where he traveled. However, as he knew all too well, strength was always relative.

He wanted to refuse, desperately. He looked for an escape, searching for any sign that someone would come to his aid or intervene on his behalf. However, his hopes were dashed at every turn. Everyone else simply offered cheerful encouragement or well wishes.

“Well, since Ketal himself chose you, there’s no helping it...”

“You two have a history. It’s only fitting, really.”

𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

“Then I’ll leave him in your care.”

One by one, the others slipped away, melting into the background as quickly as they could. In the end, only Ketal and Kain remained, standing awkwardly together in the clearing, with nothing and no one to shield Kain from his new responsibility.

Kain sighed as he stared into empty air, then drew a long, steadying breath. He had no choice now.

“Alright. I’ll teach you,” he finally conceded. There was no use in protesting further. Refusing at this point would just seem petty, maybe even selfish. Besides, teaching Ketal how to use Myst could prove vital for the entire campaign. The cause was too important to be derailed by his personal discomfort.

“Thank you, Master,” he said, bowing politely. His face brightened with a respectful, earnest smile.

A chill ran up Kain’s spine at those words. “Stop, please. You don’t have to be so formal with me. Why are you doing this?”

“You’re my master now,” Ketal replied simply.

“There’s no need for formal speech, though.”

“But it’s proper to show respect to one’s teacher,” Ketal insisted, his tone unwavering. “You’re the one who’s going to teach me how to use Myst. Of course, I have to show you proper respect.”

Kain felt a cold sweat break out along his back. “Please don’t... just, don’t call me that.”

“But—”

“Stop! Please!”

By this point, Kain was almost begging.

Why is he so intent on being formal?

Kain wondered, feeling a strange sort of dread settle in his chest.

Every time Ketal addressed him as

Master

, every time the Hero paid him deference, Kain’s whole body shuddered with goosebumps. It was surreal. To think, a warrior who could easily defeat him with the flick of a wrist, now called him teacher with such sincerity; it was almost too much to process.

“Don’t use honorifics! That’s... that’s an order, as your master!”

The moment those words left his mouth, Kain’s stomach twisted so painfully that he nearly doubled over. This wasn’t a figure of speech, his Transcendent senses reported, with exact clarity, that his body was reacting to the stress.

“If that is your command, Master, then this servant shall obey... No, I will obey. Master,” Ketal said, correcting himself mid-sentence, dropping the stiff formality, though he still called Kain

Master.

“And drop the

Master

part, too! That’s also an order!” Kain desperately wanted to shake the title off, but he could see that was as far as Ketal would yield. Ketal nodded, his face serene and understanding.

“Understood... teacher.”

Kain let out a long, exhausted breath. He already felt drained, and the real lesson hadn’t even begun.

“Well then. Let’s move somewhere more private,” Kain suggested.

“Great idea,” Ketal replied, beaming with a bright, eager grin as he fell in step behind his reluctant teacher.

They made their way as far from the encampment as possible, finally stopping in a quiet spot sheltered from curious eyes. Only then did Kain turn to Ketal and ask the question that had been bothering him all along.

“When you say you can’t use Myst, what exactly do you mean? I can feel the strength within you. It’s easily on par with other Advanced warriors. Is it just that you don’t know how to use it?”

“I’ll explain as clearly as I can,” Ketal replied.

He described his condition in detail. The longer he talked, the more troubled Kain’s expression became.

“Wait... so your Myst... it growls like a beast? And when you try to control it, it goes wild and fights back?” Kain repeated, incredulous.

“That’s right. I think I need to learn how to control it before I can really use it. Do you know any techniques for that?”

“No,” Kain admitted, shaking his head. He had never heard of such a thing.

Myst was an intangible force, one without will or personality. The idea of it fighting back like a living creature was unheard of.

Is this even real Myst?

Kain wondered, his thoughts whirling. “It’s certainly unique.”

After a moment’s thought, Ketal asked him, “How do you manage your Myst?”

“There’s nothing to it, really. Myst normally resides in the heart,” Kain explained.

That much, Ketal already knew. The

beast

inside him also prowled somewhere near his heart.

“To use it, you have to draw it out along the path of Myst. Everyone does it a bit differently, but that’s the basic idea,” Kain said.

In the end, controlling Myst meant channeling it along the right path. That was the universal starting point.

“I see.” Ketal stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“When we first met, you couldn’t use Myst at all. That’s because you hadn’t yet formed a proper path for it. But even with a path, the most important thing is control,” Kain emphasized.

“Control?”

“Right. You have to draw out your Myst along the path, but it’s delicate. If you try to use too much at once, you’ll injure yourself,” Kain explained.

It was like blood vessels; if the force was too much, the vessel could burst. One had to use only as much Myst as one’s path could handle.

“But that’s just the general idea. I doubt it’ll help with your... situation,” Kain admitted. He was about to ask Ketal for more details, but then he paused, his senses tingling.

Ketal had closed his eyes. It was such a simple gesture, but a sudden, overwhelming pressure radiated from the Hero.

Control,

Ketal repeated to himself. Kain had said to only use as much Myst as the path could withstand. The advice didn’t exactly fit his unique condition, but perhaps he could adapt it. If he drew out just enough power that the

beast

inside him couldn’t go wild, maybe he could manage it.

He focused inward, trying to summon only a small portion of his Myst and circulate it through his path. A deep, guttural growl echoed inside him; the beast within protesting as it felt his will close in around it, attempting to contain and direct its power.

Settle down,

Ketal commanded, baring his teeth in grim determination.

This force belonged to him. No matter how much the beast inside rebelled, no matter how much it hated being controlled, it was his strength. It would obey his will.

Shut up and do as I say,

he ordered.

His indomitable will pressed down on the rebellious force within his heart, smothering its resistance. The pressure rippled outward, almost like a physical force.

“W-wait,” Kain whispered, his face pale.

Even though it was only a side effect of Ketal’s focus, the pressure was almost unbearable. Kain’s heart felt constricted, like a child dreading punishment. The beast let out one last, resentful growl but finally submitted, its energy flowing docilely along the path Ketal provided.

“I did it! I actually did it!” Ketal exclaimed as he opened his eyes.

“You did it?” Kain echoed, barely able to believe his ears.

“Yes! I managed to move my Myst. I circulated it along my path. It worked!”

Ketal was as delighted as a child who had learned to ride a bike for the first time. Kain, for his part, was simply confused. From his perspective, Ketal had somehow figured everything out on his own, needing only a nudge in the right direction.

“What exactly did you do?” Kain asked him, still baffled.

“I just forced down the power and drew out only as much as wouldn’t resist, just like you said. I knew you’d be a good teacher,” Ketal replied, grinning.

That’s not quite what I meant...

Kain grimaced.

He had only explained the basics of Myst; he had never meant for Ketal to intimidate and bully his own energy into submission. Still, if it worked, then perhaps it was for the best.

“Then, try circulating your Myst more quickly along your path. That’s the next step,” Kain instructed.

“Alright,” Ketal agreed, closing his eyes to focus once again.

He sent his Myst through his body, making it flow and circulate in a steady current. It felt fascinating, almost exhilarating—like discovering a new part of himself.

Ketal spent hours practicing, manipulating the flow until it felt natural and effortless. By the time he was satisfied, the sun had dipped below the horizon and darkness had begun to blanket the world.

“It’s getting late. You must be tired, so let’s continue tomorrow,” Kain said, stifling a yawn.

“Alright,” Ketal replied. He felt no mental fatigue, but his body was a little sore, which was a rare sensation. It was the sort of deep exhaustion that only came from pushing himself to the very edge.

Ketal welcomed it, smiling to himself. If training with Myst could tire him out, it meant he was on the cusp of something truly great.

“See you in the morning,” Kain said, heading off toward his tent. He flopped down onto his cot with a sigh, running a hand over his face. “How did I end up teaching Myst to a Hero...?”

No matter how hard he tried to make sense of it, the situation seemed absurd. However, the decision had been made. All he could do now was give it his best effort. He closed his eyes, determined to do his duty.

Truthfully, Kain never really thought of himself as a teacher.

Teaching a Hero... what a joke. I’m just helping Ketal for a little while,

he told himself. He was sure Ketal saw things the same way.

However, as fate would have it, Ketal did not. Ketal wore a broad smile as he sat by the fire, lost in thought.

Master and disciple as one,

he mused, recalling the old saying from the martial arts novels he had devoured in his youth.

The king, the teacher, and the father are one and the same.

He had read those words countless times in wuxia stories, always with a twinge of envy. Now, by sheer coincidence, he was learning Aura—a power so similar to the

qi

of those tales. It felt as if he had stepped into the very stories he had loved.

If that was the case, then it was only right for him to treat his teacher with the utmost respect.

This is the kind of relationship I’ve always dreamed of,

Ketal thought, his heart swelling with pride. There was nothing more beautiful than a master and a disciple bound together by mutual trust and respect.

His previous teacher, Arkemis, had not quite fit the role. Their relationship had been different. It was less formal and more like that of comrades. However, with Kain, Ketal finally felt he had found a true teacher. The specifics of this world’s customs didn’t matter. What mattered was the sincerity of his respect and gratitude.

So, he vowed to do everything a good disciple should do, shining with new resolve.

***

The next morning, Kain woke with a start. He stretched, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and started to rise.

“Oh, you’re awake, teacher,” a voice came from right beside Kain.

Kain froze. Standing at the foot of his cot, gazing down at him with a bright, expectant smile, was Ketal.

Kain jerked upright, tumbling out of bed and scrambling away as if a snake had bitten him. He backed into the corner of the tent, staring at Ketal in disbelief.

“What... what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up,” Ketal replied without missing a beat.

“Why... why?” Kain managed to stammer.

“Well, isn’t it the disciple’s duty to wait for his teacher to wake before starting the day?”

Kain had never heard of such a custom. He was completely at a loss. After a few moments, he managed to pull himself together enough to ask him, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since before you woke up, so about two hours,” Ketal replied cheerfully.

Kain shivered. A Hero had been watching over him as he slept for two hours, and he had not even noticed.

“And that’s not all,” Ketal continued.

He stepped aside and gestured around the tent. Only then did Kain realize how spotless everything was. While he slept, Ketal had cleaned the tent from top to bottom.

“And here,” Ketal added, holding out a steaming bowl. “I made breakfast for you. It’s something light, a stew that won’t upset your stomach.”

Kain took the bowl automatically, blinking at it in confusion.

No, no... This isn’t right!

he thought.

“This is all completely unnecessary!” he protested.

As far as Kain was concerned, Ketal was acting more like a servant than a disciple. It was beyond comprehension. However, the real issue was that Ketal showed no intention of stopping.

“This is what a disciple should do. Please, don’t refuse,” Ketal replied, perfectly polite.

“No!” Kain exclaimed, nearly panicking.

Where did he get the idea that disciples have to do all this?

In this world, the relationship between teacher and disciple was nothing like the one Ketal imagined. The boundaries were clear and strictly respected. No one would ever dream of waiting on their teacher hand and foot. If word got out that a student did so, both teacher and student would become the laughingstock of the entire continent.

“Just stop it! Please!” Kain begged, glancing toward the tent flap in mounting dread. He was afraid that someone could see this situation and laugh.

“Just eat for now. There are people waiting to see you.” Ketal only smiled.

“People waiting?” Kain repeated, thrown off by the unexpected reply.

He looked toward the entrance and saw the Archbishop of the Earth Goddess standing outside, his expression difficult to read.

“I... I need to speak with you,” the Archbishop said.

“Did you see everything?” Kain asked him, his voice faint.

“Yes. From start to finish,” the Archbishop replied, face twisted in a complicated blend of surprise, confusion, and amusement.

He had witnessed the entire bizarre spectacle—a Hero tending to his teacher with the devotion of a servant. The sight was almost impossible to process. Kain felt his face twist in horror. He could only pray that word of this strange new master-disciple relationship would not spread.