Authors note: So I think a little background is in order. So I have studied martial arts since I was five so I know a little about a little in the martial field. I predominantly studied Isshinryu Karate which originated from Okinawa. Anyway, from now on I will probably call out the real martial art styles as they appear in the story in short Author notes. The main martial art Ruling Fist that Zale will learn is made up so don't worry about that. However, Muay Thai is a real martial arts style that is extremely brutal. It's elbow and knee techniques especially are mostly designed to kill or severely injure which is why you don't see the art a lot in competitive tournaments or fighting leagues like in the Olympics or MMA environment. Those martial art scenes deem them to be dangerous and risk the safety of participants. Zale doesn't have the luxury of worrying about his opponent's safety, so Malchi has him on a strict plan to accomplish victory as swiftly as possible. The other author notes won't be nearly this long hopefully.
Chapter 12
The next morning the storm had subsided. Zale met Malchi in the martial training room directly after breakfast. The other children looked at Malchi with awe, apparently he was well known throughout Delvers Ridge. A mix of good and bad because of his tendency to drink since his daughter’s death. The normal instructor tried his best to ignore Malchi’s presence and continue to teach the other children.
For the first couple hours they repeated kata and techniques of Ruling Fist. It was monotonous but after Malchi’s explanation Zale didn’t complain, in fact he decided he would blindly listen to Malchi from now on. The man had earned Zale’s trust. After Zale’s third complete set of all the basic kata and techniques Malchi stopped him.
“Good, from now on we will only run through these once a day. At night though I want you to run through the basics of Ruling Fist twice. This martial art will be your core that you add on to and modify as you learn other styles. You should also begin learning from the advanced techniques at a pace that you find comfortable. As you believe you perfect them we will include them in your morning demonstration for me to examine.”
Zale was excited to learn new things. Now that he was in an environment that had knowledge everywhere that could help advance his goals, he had to actively hold himself back. Advancing too fast could be a pitfall. Without a strong foundation even the tallest building could fall with just a simple breeze. Zale cupped his hands and bowed his head slightly.
“As you say,” Zale said.
Malchi nodded his head in approval then moved Zale to the wooden practice dummy. He demonstrated an elbow and knee technique. The dummy didn’t rock like it normally did when it was struck. Instead sharp cuts and dents appeared on its exterior.
“In addition to learning Ruling Fist you need to study at least the basics of a multitude of other martial arts to fill in the gaps that Ruling Fists has. The moves I just demonstrated come from a martial art called Muay Thai. It focuses on the eight points of contact the body excels at in combat. The core manual is in your room. You only need to focus on the elbow and knee techniques though, since the others will be a waste of your time. Ruling Fists lacks in moves regarding these body parts so it will do you good to add these to your skill pool,” Malchi lectured.
Zale understood this concept. If he tried to learn more than one complete martial art he would mix and match them in ways that were uncomplimentary and could hurt his path in the martial field. Even geniuses would never learn two different martial arts at the same time. Only true masters could switch and flow between different styles with no adverse consequences. For example, some styles punched with the fist vertical thumb facing up, while others practiced with fist horizontal with the thumb facing inward. This difference may seem small, but they were practiced that way because the stances and techniques directed the body’s energy differently so that the fist and punch were more effectively delivered. By mixing and matching moves to liberally the flow of energy could be construed and actually create a negative impact. Zale could only practice the elbow and knee techniques of Muay Thai because Ruling Fist was lacking in attacks and blocks using those body parts. There was nothing to conflict with.
The rest of the morning Zale worked on getting the hang of using his elbows and knees to attack and defend. He found them to be devastating while using them to attack, and while tricky to use on defense they punished the attacker in a way normal blocks could never achieve. The shin especially was a part of the body Zale realized was extremely tough. The punishment his shin could take was more than double his forearm could before getting too sore to continue. When lunch finally came Zale’s arms and legs were bruised black and blue. If striking the wooden dummy over a hundred times didn’t do the trick than Malchi striking at him with a bamboo sword the normal martial training instructor so generously donated to the cause did.
That afternoon after all the other students went to the training hall designated to training spirit abilities, Zale stayed in the martial training room with Malchi for physical training. Zale thought he was pushing himself hard during the past week during his runs and weight training. He had even tied sand bags to himself while running to make it harder. Malchi seemed to have plans only the devil could think of for Zale to endure.
After only the first mile of his run Malchi had stopped him and instructed him to remove the sand bags and told him to wear a vest made of a material Zale couldn’t identify. When he put the vest on he could feel his legs tremble with the weight while his shoulders sagged at the pressure placed on them. The next mile took him more than double the time it had before.
“How much does this vest weigh?” Zale couldn’t help but ask.
Malchi laughed manically. “It’s a very expensive Spirit Artifact designed for training the body. Its weight depends on the wearer. The more you can handle the more it will weigh. Supposedly it will eventually cap out at somewhere around a thousand kilograms, but I've never seen anyone be able to do it.”
Zale was proud he was wearing a Spirit Artifact, even if it was one designed to make life more difficult for its wearer. Spirit Artifacts were made by master craftsmen who trained in the art of runes and glyphs. Spirt Artificers were extremely rare and the materials that went into making a Spirit Artifact were equally sparse which made them astronomically expensive. But they were worth the expense. Weapons and armor made by Spirit Artificers held strange and unique abilities that could augment and even multiply someone’s battle prowess. Some Spirit Artifacts were so powerful they were more famous than their wielder.
The training vest Zale was wearing obviously wasn’t a famous Spirit Artifact but it still would have cost Delver Ridge’s Spirit Hall quiet a sum to acquire. Having backers certainly helped gain an advantage. He could use any advantage he could get. The more he stayed in Delvers Ridge the more he was assured leaving Jeskai City to train was the right thing to do. If he had stayed, he would have been sucked into Sorana Jeskai’s drama. He would have been required to attend banquets and festivals with the Spirit Hall because they were his sponsor. By leaving and training elsewhere he avoided all of that and was able to focus on preparing himself for the school tournament and on learning how to control and survive his abilities.
By the time he finished the fifth mile he was exhausted. His legs collapsed under him as he tore the vest off and panted for breath. He lay sprawled out on the ground while Malchi gave him a glass of water and sat patiently waiting for Zale to recoup enough to continue. After five or ten minutes Zale weakly stood up and awaited Malchi’s next exercise.
“Now that your cardio and legs received a workout it's time for upper body and the abdominals,” he said while flashing Zale a devilish grin.
In the corner of the training field, Malchi had constructed a metal rack with one bar suspended across it. The rack was at least fifteen feet high with pegs to hold the bar running all the way to the top with the lowest being slightly above arms reach for Zale. Malchi approached the rack and jumped up, grabbing hold of the bar. His feet were dangling very close to the ground. With a grunt Malchi pulled his head up to be level with the bar and curled his stomach up so he was in an almost fetal position dangling from the bar. With an explosive spring like motion he unwound himself and propelled the bar to the next set of pegs moving up a couple inches closer to the top. During the next fifteen to twenty minutes Malchi repeated this process until he reached the top then descended back down one peg at a time until he was back to his starting place. He panted heavily, clearly exhausted. It was stunning that he could complete the feat despite having basically done nothing but drink and sleep the previous couple of years.
“Repeat this process as best you can,” Malchi ordered.
Zale approached the rack. If the forty-year-old drunk could do it then he definitely could. He jumped up and grabbed hold of the bar. He mimicked Malchi’s actions as best he could as he pulled himself up so his face was level with the bar. He used his abdominals to pull his legs and stomach up as high as possible to give him that spring like motion. He exploded upward with power. The bar weighed more than he expected, and even with all his strength it only moved inches. The worst part was he moved it high enough to reach the next set of pegs but he missed them. In his spring like motion he had pushed the bar up and back away for the rack so he fell back down to the floor. He was lucky he was at the lowest peg instead of the top. A fall from that high could be dangerous. Not giving up he placed the bar back on the first set of pegs and tried once more. Not high enough. Third attempt. Moved backwards again. On the fourth time he successfully was able to move the bar up to the second set of pegs. Excited he succeeded he jumped the gun on the transition to the third set and fell back to the ground.
This trial and error process proceeded late into the afternoon until his arms were too drained to even pull his face up level with the bar. The highest point he had reached was the fifth set of pegs. There was still a long way to go before he would be able to reach the top of the fifteen-foot-tall rack. Malchi never yelled at him about his failure, or spoke words of encouragement as he made progress. He sat patiently and watched in silence. Only when it was clear Zale was too drained to continue did he speak.
“When you can do this exercise completely five times in a row can you consider yourself to have reached a state where you have reached the bare minimum body requirements to try taking on lightning.”
Five times. He couldn’t even do one set yet. A normal person would be dissuaded by a task so monumental, but Zale’s eyes grew bright at the challenge. In fact, he couldn't wait for the next day so he could tackle the rack again and reach an even higher point. He was counting the days to the school tournament. Every day was important. Every storm he would hide from in the caves of the Spirit Hall was a chance he was missing to train Lightning Rod. He didn't want to ever look back and think, what if he had just pushed myself just a little harder. He wanted to be able to remember that he scratched, clawed, and even bit for everything that could give him better odds for his future.