Despite it being morning, the Shadow Realm remained cloaked in darkness, perpetual gloom blurring the boundaries between day and night. Within Malachi’s castle, the vast training ground stretched out beneath an oppressive sky, illuminated by an eerie glow that pulsed like the heartbeat of the realm itself. Ancient stone pillars encircled the arena, their surfaces etched with enigmatic runes that seemed to watch Shunjiro’s every move. The air was dense, saturated with the weight of countless forgotten battles and whispers of power that lingered through the ages. At the center of it all stood Malachi, a formidable giant whose presence filled Shunjiro with awe and anticipation. Towering at a daunting ten feet, Malachi’s massive frame cast a long, imposing shadow, and the immense great sword resting casually against his shoulder, easily seven feet in length, gleamed ominously in the dim light. Yet, despite the intimidating scene, Shunjiro’s heart thrummed with exhilaration rather than fear. He felt it—this was his chance to grow stronger, to push past the limits he’d known until now. Malachi’s deep, resonant voice shattered the silence, echoing off the stone walls like rolling thunder. “Ready to start, little one?” Shunjiro straightened instinctively, nodding eagerly. His eyes burned with determination. “Ready as I’ll ever be!” He squared his stance, steadying his breathing as he mentally rehearsed every basic stance and technique he had painstakingly learned from countless sparring sessions back home. He knew the odds were against him, but that knowledge only fueled his excitement. The duel began in a blur of motion. Shunjiro charged, launching himself forward with a strike fueled by both hope and adrenaline. But Malachi moved with astonishing speed and grace, sidestepping Shunjiro’s initial attack effortlessly. His massive form danced gracefully, almost mockingly, around Shunjiro’s strikes, parrying with minimal, almost casual movements of his colossal sword. Each failed strike heightened Shunjiro’s frustration. He’s not even trying, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening with determination. He pressed harder, swinging faster, each attack laced with desperation. Yet, no matter how quickly he moved, Malachi remained an immovable wall, a giant effortlessly predicting and countering his every action. “Come on, focus!” Shunjiro growled under his breath, attempting another flurry of strikes, each one swiftly deflected by Malachi’s massive blade. Fatigue started to claw at him, his muscles screaming from the exertion, his breaths coming ragged and shallow. Still, he refused to relent. “Is this all you’ve got, little one?” Malachi taunted, a playful glint in his eyes. He wasn’t mocking; it felt more like encouragement, pushing Shunjiro toward something greater. Frustration surged through Shunjiro, igniting a spark deep within. “Not even close!” he shot back defiantly, forcing himself to remain standing, determined not to falter. He tightened his grip, refocused, and pushed forward once more. I won’t give up, he promised himself, eyes blazing fiercely as he stared down the towering warrior. If I want to catch up to Takeshi, I need this. Malachi’s smile widened, a proud, approving nod subtly hidden beneath his stern exterior. “Good. Now show me your true strength!” This time, Shunjiro charged forward with everything he had. To his surprise, Malachi neither dodged nor blocked. Shunjiro’s fist connected firmly with Malachi’s stomach, but the towering king barely flinched. Instead, Malachi chuckled softly, halting their spar with a simple, casual gesture. “Shunjiro,” Malachi teased gently, resting the massive great sword across his shoulder with effortless ease. “Do you even have an ounce of spiritual energy within you?” Panting, Shunjiro looked down at his clenched fists, feeling a wave of embarrassment and disappointment wash over him. “I guess I’m not sure how to use it properly,” he admitted quietly, frustration lacing his voice. Malachi’s expression softened, the playful mockery fading to genuine curiosity as he knelt down slightly to better meet Shunjiro’s gaze. “What exactly goes through your mind when you try charging your spiritual energy?” Shunjiro hesitated, suddenly feeling the weight of Malachi’s gaze. “Honestly? I just… think about charging it up,” he confessed sheepishly, fully aware of how childish it sounded. Malachi’s deep laughter boomed across the training hall, filling every corner with its resonant warmth. “Just ‘charging it,’ you say?” He shook his head with amused disbelief. “My dear boy, spiritual energy isn’t merely a brute force. It’s an extension of your will, your emotions, your intellect, your very essence.” “My emotions… and intellect?” Shunjiro repeated, turning the words over carefully. “You mean, it’s not about sheer strength alone?” Malachi noticed the confusion still clouding the young man’s eyes and decided to change tactics. Straightening back to his impressive full height, he gave Shunjiro a reassuring smile. “Perhaps we should try a different approach. Using a weapon often helps warriors channel and control their energy more clearly.” Shunjiro’s eyes brightened instantly, enthusiasm sparking anew within him. “Do you have something normal-sized that I can use?” he asked eagerly, the embarrassment quickly fading into excitement. Malachi chuckled again, motioning Shunjiro to follow him over to an ornate weapons rack, lined with a dazzling array of carefully maintained arms. The towering king carefully selected a sleek, dark-bladed dagger etched with subtle, intricate markings. Turning, he presented it to Shunjiro, who took it carefully, marveling at its craftsmanship. “Try this,” Malachi said, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. “It’s imbued with something special, Devil’s Luck.” “Whoa!” Shunjiro exclaimed, immediately intrigued as he weighed the dagger thoughtfully in his hand. Its handle felt perfectly balanced, almost as if it had been made specifically for him. “It feels… different. Almost alive.” Malachi raised an eyebrow, smiling at Shunjiro’s naïve wonder. “Do you even know what Devil’s Luck is, young one?” Still focused on the weapon, Shunjiro shook his head, oblivious to his mentor’s teasing tone. “Nope, but it sounds cool.” Malachi sighed playfully, settling into a brief explanation. “Devil’s Luck, it’s like having a personal guardian spirit with a twisted sense of humor. You know those moments when everything seems to inexplicably work out in your favor, even when logic dictates otherwise? That’s Devil’s Luck. It’s as though you’re cheating fate itself.” Cheating fate… Shunjiro’s curiosity piqued even further. Sounds perfect for someone like me. “In your particular case,” Malachi continued, turning more serious, “since you don’t inherently possess Devil’s Luck, this blade will simply amplify your ability to land decisive, critical strikes, giving you a potentially lethal edge in combat.” Shunjiro nodded, appreciating the weight of what Malachi was saying. A lethal edge… that’s exactly what I need right now. Malachi guided him back into the center of the training grounds, resuming his instructive tone. “Now, visualize your energy as it travels from within you, down your arm, into your hand, and finally into the blade. Imagine it clearly, however it best resonates with you: perhaps a river of light or a flame of determination.” Shunjiro closed his eyes, focusing intently. He pictured a fierce, roaring flame rising deep in his chest, flowing steadily down his arm, coursing through his fingertips, and infusing the dagger. At first, the sensation was faint, a mere flicker of warmth, but under Malachi’s calm guidance, it gradually intensified, becoming clearer and stronger, radiating unmistakable power. “Yes, excellent!” Malachi called out, genuine excitement and pride in his voice. “Now, strike the dummy over there as if your life depends on it.” Shunjiro thought firmly, gripping the dagger tightly. Focus… let it flow. With a determined yell, he lunged forward. The dagger flashed darkly, pulsing with the newly infused spiritual energy as it made contact with the training dummy. The force was astonishing; the dummy shook violently from the impact, nearly breaking apart. “Whoa, did I really do that?” Shunjiro gasped, wide-eyed in amazement. He stared down at the dagger, astonishment evident on his face. I can’t believe I pulled it off… Malachi applauded warmly, his booming laughter echoing off the walls once more. “You’re finally beginning to grasp it, Shunjiro. Keep this up, and soon you’ll truly be formidable.” Grinning widely, Shunjiro launched himself back into training, each subsequent strike gaining strength, confidence, and precision. I can finally feel it clearly, the energy inside me, guiding every move. I’m getting stronger. Watching from a distance, Malachi crossed his powerful arms, a proud and thoughtful gleam in his eyes. Yes, there’s immense potential within him. Now, it’s only a matter of unlocking it fully.