The Scar-Faced Cockerel

30th of Tukruk, year 991

Blink had a carefree journey for the next six days. Sleeping under the stars at night had a tempering effect on his soul, somehow. Catching prey through the forest or fishing with his bare hands never failed to put him in a good mood. Life was good so far.

He still found time to lament his fate right before sleeping. He also dreamt of Master Tszarek looking back at him with sadness in his eyes. In another dream he could see a faceless silhouette calling out to him with the lonely voice of Berge saying, "Come back to me, I'll wait for you."

Of course, there's one of Flip. In that dream his bestfriend was wailing but managed to calm himself enough to declare a threat. He said, "You better come back quickly or I swear I'll go after your girlfriend and have her for my sweetheart."

These dreams always happened before sunrise, about an hour before his usual waking time. He'd wake up from the dream with an overwhelming sense of emptiness. He had cried the first two times. But, at this time, not a tear had stained his pretty face.

He avoided the towns and villages after the third day. Not only was his martial artist robe very eye-catching, there were also endless pleas to deal with some troublemaker that his honor as a martial arts disciple cannot ignore. After beating up about a dozen ruffians, Blink had gotten sick of it. Thus, he decided to travel through the mountains and forests, or along the rivers.

But, on the sixth day, Blink met a gang of five bandits. He was washing up by the river when they approached him. He got up quickly and wore his spare martial arts disciple's robe. The two sets of robes and trousers were the only clothes he had. It was the same with every other disciple while they trained in the academy.

The bandits were taken aback at his outfit and stopped from 20 meters away.

Blink just stood calmly in his spot, his hands behind his back, as if daring the gang to tempt their fate with him. A gang of five bandits was nothing to get excited about.

"We should go back," the most cautious of the bandits said. Meeting a martial artist was bad news for a bandit. It's even more so if the martial artist was from the Ragha Martial Arts Academy. He knew a lot of gangs that were routed by those brown-robed disciples sent by the academy on missions.

"I think we could take on this one," the youngest among the bandits said. "Look at him. He doesn't look much at all."

"Yeah, he's too much of a pretty boy to be worth much as a fighter," a bandit with a large scar on his left cheek agreed. "I'm sure he spent his time training his hands on the girls instead of trading blows with the guys."

"I don't know," the cautious bandit said. "I heard the top disciple from among the brownies is a pretty boy."

The second class, to which Blink belonged to, were called brownies, a reference to the color of their outfit. The first class of disciples, who were sent to different parts of Ragha to spread martial arts, wore black and were given the title of teacher. The best among them stayed behind in the academy to help Master Tsazrek train the second and third classes. The third class wore blue robes.

The scar-faced bandit had a contemptuous look on his face after the cautious bandit informed them about the top disciple among the brownies.

"How can it be this one?" he spat. "I think this one's too weak that's why they sent him away."

"Yeah," another bandit said. "They always go out in pairs on missions. This one was clearly sent away."

The cautious bandit spoke once more: "Brothers, I don't know why. But I really feel something's different about this guy."

"Bah, enough with your sissy warnings!" the scar-faced guy said.

"Yeah, you've lost your balls, old man!"

"Look, he's got a sword! That means his fist and leg techniques are crap. Why would he need a sword otherwise?"

"I want that sword. I'm sure it would fetch a good price in the black market."

By this time four of the bandits were in high spirits. They were itching to beat up the pretty boy in front of them and rob him of everything.

"Brothers, let me have him!" the scar-faced guy proudly declared.

He strutted forward like a proud rooster until he was within striking distance from Blink, who was just casually looking at him. He cocked his right hand all the way behind him then launched a vicious swing towards Blink's face.

"That pretty boy would surely look ugly after this," the youngest of the bandits spoke. He had always admired the punching power of the scar-faced bandit.

However, to their shock, Blink merely twisted his body and then leaned to his left and the scar-faced bandit's fist hit nothing but air. Blink then pushed the man's right shoulder with his left palm before kicking the man's rear-end, sending him flying for a few feet. The bandit's face fell hard on the ground.

The other bandits recovered immediately. With the exception of their cautious cohort, they rushed Blink together, arms swinging and feet flying. However, a simple twist here and a little turn there, a little step back and a little side step, and the trio's attacks were nullified. Then a downward palm after the twist, an elbow off a turn, a grabbing slam following a sidestep, a sweep of the legs…It was a beautiful dance that ended with the three attackers lying on their backs, moaning in pain.

The fallen bandits gathered themselves along with their scar-faced comrade.

"Let's use our weapons!" they all decided.

Again their cautious friend warned them, "I think that would be a terrible idea."

"You don't need to join us if you're too scared!" the scar-faced one shouted at him. "But shut up, will you?!"