A/N: Holla! I'm back with another chapter! I've gotta say that I'm pretty pumped up for this fic. So much ideas randomly popping up in my brain. Anyway, this is it! I hope you guys enjoy it. It took a while to write this with everything going on in life. Anyway, There's a pretty good number of reviews on the previous chapter! I'm so happy!

Alex the God Killer: I'm basing his personality off of Kakuzu, only toned down to a manageable level.

RadioPoisoning: He probably could've had him if he didn't throw that last attack and called for his henchmen to stall. Thanks for the suggestion! Sorano would be quite interesting, although now that I've checked once more, Hisui the princess could be an interesting pairing too. I don't know, I'm never any good with romance! (So sad..)

Guisniper: Uh-huh. Very true. That's a very interesting humor scene, right there.

Angelfaux: Thanks!

Little Puppy: Thanks! Hmm.. the next chapter should be where Erza's first debut is.

Kaizero6: Katana is obviously a good choice. That, or the standard broadsword or cutlass.

Nakedfury: Glad you liked the premise. I agree, they're everywhere.

All About Party And Crazy: Thank you, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

There you go! I hope you guys liked this chapter! Any comments and building critics are welcome, but flame will be deleted. Don't forget to click the follow and Like button guys!


Chapter 6: Steps to Progress

Old Man hummed pleasantly, silently enjoying the warm morning sun on his skin. "Aah..." He sighed, totally relaxed. "Nothing beats the fresh morning air. Wouldn't you say so, lil' guy?" He sent a smirk my way, his smile gaining a bit more sadistic tint to its otherwise pleasant exterior, telling me that he very much enjoyed the moment.

I grunted, sweat trailing down my face as I tried to balance the weight of two bucket-full of water while standing on a goddamn bamboo stick. Actually, I was just being overdramatic and that goddamn stick I was talking about was really just a piece of bamboo the size of an adult man's palm. "F-fuck you, you sadistic bastard!" I hissed at him even as the action caused the thin piece of wood I was standing on to shake minutely.

I've been standing on top of this god-forsaken bamboo stick since dawn, shirtless with only my boxers to protect me from the cold breezes of the morning wind, which, admittedly wasn't really doing as splendid a job as I've initially hoped, as a part of the balance training. At first, Old Man left me alone to my devices, opting to snipe down some unfortunate deer that crossed our path. That quickly turned boring to him, however, so he turned his attention to the one thing that was guaranteed to amuse him; Me.

"Now, now." He placated. "Focus on your balance, pipsqueak. Higan!" A small projectile made out of flame shot out of his fingers and grazed the side of the log I was standing, rocking it dangerously even as I flailed about on top of it, trying to prevent it and myself from reacquainting ourselves with the cold hard ground.

"Piss off, you prick!" I growled at him before, with a startled yelp, fell from the toppling bamboo stick I was standing on. Landing painfully on my back, drenched from head to toe in cold water, I quickly shot an annoyed look to my snickering Old Man and glowered at him. "Stop distracting me, you moron! It's counter-productive to my training!"

He obnoxiously wagged his finger to me. "Tsk, tsk! Where's the fun in that?"

"I'll shove that fun up to the place in your body where the sun doesn't shine." I flexed my fingers in anticipation, ready to follow through with my threat.

He cackled at me, flashing his sharp canines as a gesture of challenge. "I'd like to see you try." He grinned, throwing me a dry towel to clean myself of my sweat and water. I deftly caught the offered towel, quickly wiping away all of the liquid off my body. "And for the record, it's supposed to help you keep your head cool and focused." He said.

"It's almost impossible to focus when someone is pelting you with fire bullets while you're trying to balance yourself with two bucket-full of water on one leg on top of a thin bamboo shoot!" I ranted, frustrated. I felt tired, the muscles in my hand was locked in place, sending lances of pain all over my arms while my legs throbbed, the abused muscles screaming curses of agony at me.

"Meh." He shrugged, uncaring of my complaints.

"Why can't I just continue with my speed and strength training anyway?" I asked, tilting my head to the side in confusion. "I've been progressing well in those fields." I made a show of sending a flurry of boxing punches, fighting away at an imaginary opponent.

Old Man gave me an amused grin, apparently entertained with my little showing off session. "Well, judging from the muscle growth in your body, this'll probably be the limit of your growth, for now. Anymore than this and we'll just stunt your full potential. We'll wait for some years until you grow up some more before resuming where we left off. For now, we should focus on your Magic, Technique and Skills."

"I get that part on my Magic and skill, but what about technique?" I asked. Suddenly, something in my mind clicked and I couldn't help but hop excitedly from one feet to another in excitement, despite the pain throbbing in my legs. "Are you going to teach me swordmanship? Spearmanship? Marksmanship?Ooh.. Or maybe even-"

"I guess we can start on your swordsmanship tomorrow." He thought to himself.

"Fuck yeah!" I cheered, excited at the thought of finally holding an honest-to-goodness sword, the legendary weapon of anime. "This is gonna be so cool! I'm so hyped for this!" With stars gleaming in my eyes and a dopey grin on my face, I slowly lost myself into my own imagination.

I never quite notice the less-than-benign smile on his face...

-XxXxX-

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

The sound of sword swings echoed through the clearing as wooden swords clashed against one another, mine with hard-pressed effort and Old Man's with mocking ease.

"Don't grip your sword too tightly." He instructed, taking the chance to give me a direct demonstartion by shifting his grip mid-swing to change the direction of his sword from my midsection to my chest and shoulder, striking it hard with his wooden sword's blunt-tip. "Grip it strongly but also gently, like you would an eel. This way, your sword's movement will be more flexible and less predictable."

I complied, imagining myself gripping a slippery eel, adjusting the strength of my grip to what Old Man instructed. Finding it feeling slightly better than my previous hold, I moved forward, once again sending a blow towards my stationary enemy.

Quick as lightning, Old Man halted my swing with his sword, nodding pleasedly as my sword stayed within my grip and not flying away into the bushes as he'd probably thought it would. "Good. Widen your stance and balance the weight of your body while you thrust."

I did as I was told, replaying the scene in all those action-packed fantasy Anime where the characters fought with a sword and emulated their stances to the best of my ability, trying to feel which position felt right for me.

"Square your shoulders when you strike!"

THWACK!

THWACK!

"Never let your weapon slip from your grip!"

THWACK!

"Don't hesitate when you strike. Your blade is only as sharp as your conviction!"

THWACK! THWACK!

"Twist your body, especially the hips, when you swing!"

By the time the sun went down from its perch in the sky, my body was mostly black and blue, littered with bruises and scrapes from Old Man's wooden sword striking against my unprotected flesh. I was lying face-down on the ground, body drenched from head to toe with sweat just as the norm with my Old Man's training. I panted and wheezed, my lungs burning with every intake of oxygen while my body went to lock itself, preventing me from any movement.

Old Man sat a little ways away from me, chugging down a bottle of water as he wiped the sweat on his body, sighing contentedly as the water went down his throat. "Well, what do you know, you're pretty good with a sword!" He said, grinning pleasantly at me.

"Pretty good being a punching back, you mean?" I asked dryly, still panting.

"Yeah, that, and you're actually much better at this compared to hand-to-hand. Remember when you first started? You can't even make a decent punch!" He laughed uproariously at the memory. I cringed, trying to bury back that embarrasing moment into the deepest recess of my mind where I would never stumble upon it the rest of my life. "At least, you can actually make a stance and a swing."

"I guess.." I sighed.

And then, like usual, he picked me up by the scruff of my neck before throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me like a sack of potatoes. And like usual, I gave him a half-hearted kick and a punch. "Bastard, put me down!" There was less bite in my voice, too tired with my training to actually complain.

"Uh-uh." He rolled his eyes at me. "Try and make me."

...

"Thought so."

-XxXxX-

Four months went by in a flash of excitement, hardwork, bloody-tears and pain as I went about increasing my skills with the sword. The whole thing was nothing less than torture with Old Man quite literally driving the finer points of swordmaship to me with the help of his wooden sword. Although the results was nothing short of impressive, the method was undoubtedly horrifying.

In contrast to myself, Old Man was in a very good mood, having gotten reports of various Dark Guilds from his underworld connections and went about collecting their prices as quickly as possible, afraid of getting his prey snatched by other Hunters. Luckily, he didn't get poached by his fellows and Old Man managed to cash a lot of money from the Rune Knights for the Dark Mages he'd caught, which numbered on the hundreds.

Suprisingly though, the man had allowed me to assist him on some of his lighter hunts as a way to gain some real experience. Granted, the foes was nothing more than measly bandits with no-skill with their weapon other than swinging around wildly like a drunken baboon, but its still more challenging when you know your opponent is fighting to actually kill you rather than turn you black and blue. So, yeah, experience.

"UGHK!"

I sheated my Katana back to its sheath as the last of the group of bandits Old Man has assigned to me as an exercise fell to the ground in an unconscious heap. I turned around, checking and double checking to make sure that there was no one left that would suddenly jump out of the bushes to ambush me. Sure that I was now alone, I called out for the bounty hunter to come from whatever hole he's hiding in.

"You sure picked things up quick, dipshit." I rolled my eyes at him, exasperated at the nicknames he's been calling me with for the past few months since we met. He checked all the bandits, whistling in appreciation at the number of them and the minimal injury I had on my body. "Damn! Nice job, skippy! And to think you're only five.." He let out a sigh. "I'm such an awesome teacher!"

"More like sadistic." I snarked.

"What was that? I think just heard someone asking me to put them through the wringer."

"Nothing, sir!"

"Uh-huh. Thought so." He smirked, nodding pleasedly as he gathered all the unconscious bandits, easily picking those muscle-bound men with one hand each before conjuring a chain and tied them together, securing it with a lock for finishing touches. "There, all wrapped up and ready to be delivered."

"Bows on top?" I reminded dutifully.

"Oh, right!" With a poof, a large, red bow appeared in his hands. "There ya go!" He tied it to the guy in the middle of the bunch.

Delivering the catches to the Rune Knights and negotiating for the price has become something that I was accustomed to by now. I mean, there's only so much repetition you can handle before the novelty of the experience lost its charm. Oddly enough, the transaction never took more than an hour, something about the mutual dislike between all bounty hunters and rune knights, apparently.

So, now that we don't have a bunch of bandits crying like a group of bitches and our pockets significantly bigger with the prices on their heads, Old Man and me decided to once again fly back to our usual clearing to do the day's training.

"So.. what're we training for today?" I asked, slightly curious and inwardly hoping that I could continue training my skills with my sword. Incidentally, the sword was Old Man's gift for doing so well in the sword arts. Surprising, considering that he loved his money like Romeo did Juliet.

"Today, let's train your magic."

"Eh?"

"Arc of Embodiment, remember?"

"Slap me. I think I'm dreaming." No sooner did I say those words, Lepanto's hand flew so quickly and strike me on my face. "OW! The fuck you do that for!?"

"You asked for it." He snickered.

-XxXxX-

"The Arc of Embodiment is a powerful magic that relies heavily in the strength of the caster's imagination." Old Man began his lectures, trying and somehow, partially succeeding in pulling off the intelligent, professional teacher look. "The clarity of the image in your mind is thus, very important. Most importantly, however, is the believe that you can actually do it."

"This magic is almost limitless in its application. Almost. " He continued, absently pacing back and forth in front of me as he continued his lecture. "The first and most obvious limit of this magic, as I've stated before is your imagination. The second is that it couldn't create events and concepts. The final limit is that you can't create life. Any questions so far?"

We were once again back to the familiar clearing where we did our exercises and training for the past months, sitting on a conveniently placed log as Old Man lectured me on the basic things-to-know about Arc of Embodiment. So far, it painted the same image of the overpowered magic that Hiro Mashima and Wikipedia made it sound like. To be completely honest, I was literally salivating at the prospect of getting my hands on this hax magic.

Unlimited money for life, bitches!

But first, details. "What do you mean by concepts and events? Also, weren't your monsters alive?" I asked, digging some more information about the magic I was about to learn.

"Good question." He nodded at me, looking somewhat pleased that I wasn't as stupid as someone my age should be. "Concepts, such as death, time and space, is something you can't make simply because they're something abstract, without physical existence. It's like trying to make a glass of water to stay still without a glass to contain them." He explained.

"So the only way I can create a concept is by creating the metaphorical glass first before filling it with the water, right?" I guesed, wrapping my head around the imagery of glass and water.

Old Man nodded at me, relieved that I wasn't about to make this talk longer than it should be. "Exactly. Now, back to the your question. Events is something that AoE is unable to interfere. No leeway on this rule, unfortunately. You can't just imagine your most hated enemy to burst into flames and die a horribly slow and painful death. You can't will a volcano to erupt out of a blue with just your imagination. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Lastly, my monsters are similar to that of golems. While it is possible to give them some semblance of self-awareness, intelligence and personality, in the end, they're still made up of our magic and when it fades or when we can't supply it for them, they will disappear." He explained, having finally grown bored of pacing around the same place for over several minutes before sitting down on another log.

"Ah.. I see." I nodded.

"Okay then, since you're done with this, let's move on to the practicals." He grinned at me, this time pleasantly surprised to see me shooting him the same grin plastered on his face.

"Fuck yeah, let's do this!"

-XxXxX-

Five minutes into the exercise and I was practically gritting my teeth hard enough to shatter a ceramic vase in sheer frustration. In simple terms, It's like trying to solve a particularly challenging math problems, one that requires extreme caution in calculation, brain-melting concentration and mind-crushing formulas to complete. Yup, It's that bad.

No wonder Rustyrose turned out to be that narcissistic asshole.

I mean, I had my control down no problem. In fact, I can even go so far so as to say that it was near perfect. However, the damn magic just refused to form the simple spoon I had in mind! It's utterly frustrating.

"Having trouble, waffles?" I glanced back to Old Man's relaxed form, leaning on the trunk of the tree as he sat on one of its branches, staring amusedly at my failed attempts at creating a spoon.

"How very perceptive." I drawled, an annoyed scowl on my face. "And stop giving me nicknames, bastard!"

"Uh-huh. Keep trying. I'm sure you can do it someday in the future. For now, I'm going to the nearest town for some booze. I've got matchsticks in my bag and some instant noodle for you to munch on later. I'm off, be back next morning!" And with that, the annoying Bounty Hunter disappeared, leaping away into the forest.

"Tsk." I clicked my tongue and once again brought my focus to the magic flowing beneath my skin, willing them to form the image I had in my mind. "Come on you damn stubborn energy, turn into one goddamn spoon.." As if to spite me, the magic dspersed just as soon as it formed the vague shape of a spoon, like a smoke blown by the wind.

"This is going to take a long time.."

-XxXxX-

"NoT ENoUgh...."

A sickening crunch echoed through the cave as a pair of monstrously humongous jaws lined with serrated teeth the size of daggers snapped itself close and severed the head of an unconscious man from the rest of its body, spewing a fountain of blood in a gory shower of gore.

"MuST fInD MOrE..."

Clawed feet padded softly on the rough floor of the cave, stepping on the half-mangled body of another man and pausing briefly to pick up the half-devoured corpse and gobbling it down like a piece of steak before continuing its track forward, towards the mouth of the cave. The light. The outside.

The demon disappeared into the light, the only thing left was a puddle of freshly-spilled blood and the headless, half-devoured corpse of a human.

"..FoR ZeREf!"


A/N: What do you think? Leave your comments down on review box below! See ya next time!