Mahoraga stood over the dead carcasses and quickly tore out the soul shards from their bodies. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed them to the ground and turned to Sunny with a doubtful look. "How do you want to split it?"
Sunny stared at the dead Reavers, then back at Mahoraga. A flicker of doubt crossed his face before hardening, he opened his mouth and replied without hesitation. "Why don't we make a trade?"
Mahoraga paused, his eyebrows arching in surprise, "A trade? What kind of trade?"
"You can take all the soul shards I earn throughout our journey, and the share of mine that you killed. In exchange… you teach me how to fight."
"..."
The silence was suffocating.
Sunny shifted his body, feeling the weight of Mahoraga's gaze. His earlier plan of killing Nephis right after awakening seemed foolish. Even though he had Saint and Serpent, Neph wouldn't go down without a fight.
She had Cassie — the scheming oracle who likely already saw him coming — and an armada of brainwashed, battle-hardened Awakened. Charging in unprepared was just a fast way to die. Even if he somehow got past all that, Nephis herself was a terrifyingly competent fighter.
That in itself was a problem.
Sunny was still using Nephis's style — and against her, it would be a fatal mistake. Considering no one knew its flaws better than the one who created it. Moreover [Shadow Bond] remained a thorn at his side.
During his isolation, a question still arose in his heart.
If the moment came, would he truly be able to kill her?
Sunny kept his face carefully blank, but beneath that mask, his thoughts twisted. He didn't really think that the Changing Star he knew would abuse her power over him… in fact, he was almost sure that she wouldn't. Not only because of the bond between them, but also because in Neph's warped mind, doing so would simply be beneath her.
However, he hated being someone's shadow. Living beneath someone, being shackled.
It wasn't about what she would do.
It was about what she could do.
Power, once placed above one's head, did not need to be used to suffocate them. Its mere existence was enough.
The invisible chain tugged at his thoughts, at his choices, at the shape of his future. Even if Neph never once pulled on it, Sunny could still feel the collar around his neck.
And he despised it.
He could leave.
Distance was the simplest answer. He could turn his back on everything, pick a direction, and keep walking without once glancing over his shoulder. If he went far enough, no one would have the right to claim his obedience.
And Nephis… she would keep moving forward.
Burning brighter.
Climbing higher.
Sunny's jaw tightened.
He had not clawed his way through nightmares just to retreat into obscurity. Hiding would grant him safety, perhaps. It would even grant him autonomy.
But it would also grant her the sky.
No.
He would not give her the satisfaction of getting rid of him.
If he was to be free, it would not be because he fled beyond the sound of a voice. It would be because that voice no longer held power over him.
And so, he needed power — enough that Nephis' voice would no longer hold sway over him.
Sunny's gaze drifted back to Mahoraga.
If he wanted to break the chain around his neck, cleverness alone would not be enough. Schemes, traps, and manipulation could only take him so far.
At some point, strength had to speak for itself.
Finally, Mahoraga opened his mouth. "It's not that I won't teach you, but that I can't. You see, my battle art is specifically suited for myself and my aspect, learning my battle art would not just be useless, but risky for you."
He then gestured towards Sunny and said in a tone of acknowledgement, "You have survived a long time in the Nightmare Desert, that alone speaks of your ability. You got the basics down — I can only build up on your basics and help you design your own battle art."
Sunny was silent for a moment before readily agreeing, "So when do we start?"
Mahoraga shrugged, "Now."
"Now?" Sunny repeated, unsure of what he heard.
Mahoraga nodded.
"Yes. Now."
Sunny frowned slightly, and glanced around at the open stretch of desolate sand surrounding them. "This doesn't seem like a good time to train."
"Now seems like a better time than any, I assume this is not your first day in the Nightmare Desert? The night is… well hellish."
"I suppose so."
Mahoraga then summoned his gladius, and gestured to Sunny to do the same.
With a sigh, Sunny summoned [Midnight Shard] into his hand. The blade immediately weaved itself into reality, gripping the hilt; Sunny's eyes sharpened and he stepped back — taking a ready stance.
"Fine," Sunny muttered, "Show me what I'm missing."
Mahoraga didn't attack. Instead, he lowered his gladius, his mouth twisting into a faint smile. "Tell me Sunny. What do you think is the essence of combat?"
"Murder," Sunny replied instantly, "It's ending the person before they can end you."
Mahoraga's smile didn't falter, but his eyes flashed with a hint of pity. He shook his head slowly.
"Wrong. That is the result of combat, Sunny. If murder were the essence, then a criminal or an assassin would be the greatest warriors."
He stepped closer, drawing Sunny's attention.
"The essence of combat is sacrifice."
Sunny blinked, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "Sacrifice?"
"Yes. Sacrifice." Mahoraga affirmed, "In every exchange, you must give up something to gain something. You sacrifice your safety to gain an opening. You sacrifice a limb to take a life. You sacrifice your pride to find a weakness. The essence of combat is to end the fight while sacrificing as little as possible."
He raised his gladius, and spoke softly. "You won't understand what I mean. I'll do a demonstration. Come at me — come at me with the intent to murder me."