9 Foundation of Blood

Before dawn on Skyfang island, loud sounds of impact heard from a courtyard.

Alva was striking a thick wooden post with punch-kick-knee combinations.

During his past life, he had reached a very high proficiency in a few martial arts.

On base he was an assistant instructor of the U.S hand-to-hand system, for years he taught Rangers how to kill with their hands. Alvas preferred fighting style is heavily reliant on Muy Thai, Krav Maga, and a Jiu-Jitsu/SAMBO hybrid.

"Alva you're already out here? It's so early. You woke me up," Francis said.

"How long have you been out here it's not even 4:00?!" Francis was annoyed at being awoken so early.

"A couple hours," Alva said

"You that excited? I have never seen someone so eager to rush into hell ahahaha!"

"Cal it a routine."

"What were those weird movements son?"

"Oh, that's my personal fighting style."

"Who taught you something like that?"

"Uh...I came up with it myself."

"Forget it then, you haven't started training wouldn't want to form bad habits," Francis said. Waving his hand and smiling at his imaginative son.

"Oh? Would you care for a demonstration if you win I'll throw it away, If I win I do what I want," Alva said

"Stubborn brat, deal."

Francis figured he would humor his son and show him that his old man was capable.

Both of them stood adjacent to each other in the middle of the training field.

Alva tossed his father a wooden dagger.

"What's this?"

"For training," Alva said "kill me" with a severe expression.

"Hyaaaa!"

Francis lunged forward with a well trained orthodox stab

.

Alva instantly lowed his body and pivoted sideways.

Francis was surprised to see the quick, agile movement. What he saw next, however, changed his entire worldview.

Alva grabbed Francis right wrist knocked the knife away while pulling his arm down in a circular motion. At the speed of lightning, Francis was on the ground.

Alva held the captured arm extended under his knee and in a wristlock. With his leg over Francis' elbow, left foot pressing down on his neck.

Francis was in shock the impossible had just happened. His large figure was thrown by a child 1/3rd his size.

"It's not over!" Seeing his small son holding his wrist with just one hand he thought it was his chance to overpower him.

Alva applied pressure to his hold threatening to break the arm in two places. Francis felt the pain and ceased his struggle.

Alva pulled out a wooden pistol with his free hand.

"Bang you're dead," Alva said.

Francis was a mental wreck he was frustrated, embarrassed and happy all at once.

He had been disarmed and 'killed' by a child. His child, he was proud of his son.

Francis knew Alva was a genius, his reading, and mathematics skills well beyond his age. Francis thought they were just lucky their kid was smart, but with this, he knew he had underestimated Alva.

Alva was a natural fighter with his talent paired with his naturally flexible and robust body. He was a thoroughbred born for combat.

However, for Francis, all of that seemed almost complimentary to Alva's most alarming talents. That which could not be learned, Alva's ferocious spirit and indomitable will.

Francis had an epiphany Alva is not a prodigy; no, Alva is indefinable.

Francis did not know what Alva was, but he knew one thing he wasn't human.

For the first time, Francis looked at his son and felt fear.

Fear for what he could become.

"You didn't say you would be armed as well," Francis said.

"I never said I wasn't, besides in that position I had plenty of ways to perform the kill."

Francis looked into his eyes; they did not show hesitation. He unconsciously created more distance from Alva.

"Your opponent was un-armed and subdued why kill them?"

"To engage the next opponent," Alva said.

Francis was shocked at this. It left a bad taste in Francis' mouth but realizing his reasoning was correct he had no retort. On the battlefield, the enemy is rarely alone.

While he had thought this practice for a fight; Alva was training for war.

"I was wrong, do as you wish," Francis said.

_____________________________________________________________

Garp arrived after breakfast.

"Alva you have shown that you have the spirit your body is weak it will snap like a twig. It is too soon for my training. So we will work on your foundation body and mind," Garp said.

"so," Francis said, "during this time while we build up your strength I will train you in swordsmanship and marksmanship."

"Unfortunately your training is on a tight schedule. With my promotion I have been transferred to Marine HQ I must report to my new post in five months. Luckily my branch post replacement will arrive soon so I can focus solely on training you. With Vice Admiral Monkey's help, I may be able to delay this for a while more, but that's the limit," Francis said.

"I understand father."

"For me, this decides how long we have to get you into fighting shape," Garp said.

He pulled out a transponder snail with long blonde hair.

"When this rings, your training is over. I do not know how much time you have to train, but it's at least a few months. How far you get in that time is up to you, prepare yourself."

Garp's tone gave no room for protest; this was final.

'This is shitty, all that and I don't even know how long I get to learn from him for?'

"I understand Instructor Monkey!" Alva bowed.

"Garp is fine."

"Yes sir, instructor Garp," Alva said.

"Tsk I see you are ready, so let us begin," Garp said. Looking a bit annoyed.

Alva was wearing a pair of custom black boots with steel covering the toe, sole, and heel. The steel was black and texture coated. A pair of loose fitting dark green pants tucked into his boots, and a black belt was holding them. A black sleeveless tank top for a shirt. Alva's hands were wrapped up to the middle of his forearms. Protecting his skin and supporting the wrist.

Garp left, Francis walked forward taking off his coat.

"Let's begin first is 1.500 push-ups, 1.000 sit-ups, and 500 laps," Francis said.

"Laps around the courtyard?"

"Around the town now begin!" Francis shouted.

"Yes, sir!'

The days of eternal hell had begun. The schedule was brutal the morning was five hours and thirty minutes of strength and conditioning. Flexibility, endurance, and weight training. Followed by two hours of full contact sparring.

After lunch, it was five hours and thirty minutes of sword training.

When Alva displayed impeccable marksmanship after just one day of practice, his father decided it wasn't necessary.

Alva used his knowledge of science and anatomy to maximize the benefits of all of his training. He ate a special diet and commissioned doctors and apothecaries to make multiple supplements and medicines. No expense was spared, much to Francis' dismay.

After three months Alva's schedule switched to three hours of strength training and ten hours of sword training. Alva finished his fathers' training in seven months.

Alva had grown 3inchs taller and put on a whole 20lb(9kg) of muscle.

He had reached the max of the body's potential for his age utilizing his DNA to its fullest.

Garp had supervised Alvas progress during this time taking an advisory role, correcting mistakes and giving tips.

Alva was looking at his current state.

"Holly shit I'm jacked, I bet Ill look like Goku by the time in an adult," Alva said

Alva spent no small length of time making poses in the mirror. Daydreaming about his future body, the body he had always dreamed of obtaining.

In his past life he was incredibly fit, but due to his age, lifestyle and genetics he never archived the coveted godlike figure that every boy who grew up in the 80's wanted.

Especially after watching actions movies and DBZ in high school.

Alva focused intently on reaching a near perfect balance between slow twitch muscle fibers(Red), fast oxidative fibers(red), and fast glycolytic fibers(white). Soon all of his muscles would be the mythical pink muscle allowing him to stay lean and contain a lot of power. His fighting style required him to be extremely fast and agile.

Alva believed there was no such thing as too much speed after all.

Francis was a master in fencing, and a sword style only known to the royal family of Briss called the Water Dance. Francis' father had married a Royal Dutchess of the Salti house. While not the main family they still had access to the techniques.

This marriage was very controversial among the nobles and the central Salti family.

It raised the status of the Drake house disrupting the balance of the four great houses of Briss under the crown. It also disrupted the freedom of the King, making it harder for the crown to crack down on the Drake house as they were now related.

Facing possible pushback from any decision affecting the Drake house from within the Salti house.

Raising the Drake house from Earl to that of Marquis they now had the pedigree to marry the royal family directly. Potentially putting someone outside of the Salti house in the line of succession for the firsts time in 700 years.

In time King Cicero Salti's fears would be realized with his son. Under pressure King Caesar Salti's second daughter princess Roxana would marry Marquis Horatio Drake, Francis' older brother, and Alva's uncle. Putting Horatio's daughter Elizabeth on the short list currently fifth. This among other things has increased tension between the Drake house and King Caesar.

Alva was a quick study in the sword; he mastered all of the stances and twenty basic strikes of fencing and kenjutsu in this time.

He had begun learning the Water Dance this week. A style that suited Alva nicely, it could be used with any blade including knives. A style involving orthodox grip and reverse grip stances utilizing agile movement to deliver powerful strikes to the opponents vitals. Key philosophies of this style are, to move fluently and strike with grace. One strike one kill, transitioning between opponents smoothly.

Designed for fighting multiple opponents Alva liked the Water Dance very much, understanding why it was secret as it was so deadly.

Being a rare style never seen outside of Briss, it was tricky to counter for all but the most adept swordsmen.

Alva was excited all this time to prepare for the primary training.

"Kid, you ready for a work out?" Garp said while cracking his knuckles.