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Ayane caught herself after talking for a while — she'd drifted from the topic. Composing her thoughts, she turned back to Matsurize and resumed the story behind the Wolf-Catching Fist.
> "In the place you might've once been — upstream from the little river outside our village — there's a thick, endless forest.
A labyrinth of trees.
We call it the Maze Forest.
And within it dwells one of Swordsmith Island's ruling beasts — the Blade Wolves."
At the mention of wolves, Matsurize felt a strange flicker of familiarity. The word stirred something deep within him. Thinking he had finally recovered from his bouts of headaches, he dared to chase the memory again.
A mistake.
Pain like a thousand knives tore through his skull. He clutched his head and cried out.
For all his endurance, for all the pain he'd weathered before, this was something else — something no willpower could overcome.
Ayane immediately rushed forward, pulling him into her arms, gently patting his head as she whispered,
> "Little Ze, don't think about the past anymore, okay?"
Her voice was soft — almost trembling. She recognized that look, that agony. It was the same as before; she knew he'd tried to recall his memories again.
Under her steady rhythm and warmth, Matsurize slowly calmed, his breath evening out. Sweat drenched his forehead, his body limp from exhaustion.
> "Enough," Ayane said softly. "We don't have to talk about it anymore. I'll just teach you the fist technique directly."
But Matsurize, pale and trembling, looked up at her, eyes burning with determination.
> "Ayane… continue. I just won't think about the past."
Still the same few words — yet every syllable was weighted with resolve.
Ayane sighed and smiled faintly. There was no winning against that look. She sat back down, folding her hands, and continued.
> "The Blade Wolves live in the Maze Forest — a whole pack of them. They're one of the island's dominant beasts, feared by everyone here.
The name 'Blade Wolf' — that came from my ancestors, who discovered them.
And what they found on those wolves… was something remarkable. A material unlike any other for forging blades — the horn that grows upon the wolf's head."
Matsurize blinked. A horn? On a wolf? That defied every bit of logic his instincts recalled.
Ayane went on.
> "Within the pack, there's a strict hierarchy. There are the Twin-Horned Blade Wolves, and among them, the elite — the Single-Horned Blade Wolves.
The precious material my ancestors found was none other than that single horn from the elite ones.
> Originally, my ancestors were far more skilled in swordsmanship than hand-to-hand combat.
But to fight a Single-Horned Blade Wolf was… different.
Using a sword risked damaging the horn — and fighting them meant fending off the entire pack.
> So, they developed another way — a way to kill the beast barehanded, to protect the horn's integrity.
Thus, the Wolf-Catching Fist was born — a martial art designed to seize the horn of the Blade Wolf itself."
She paused, her eyes gleaming with a kind of reverence.
> "Don't underestimate this technique. It's said that when mastered, the Wolf-Catching Fist can awaken special powers within one's body — rare forces that few ever touch.
From my family's ancestral notes, this art can awaken not just one… but two such powers.
> There is, however, a dangerous way to ensure that both awaken.
Using that method guarantees the awakening of both powers — but it's perilous beyond reason.
Promise me, Matsurize — you will never attempt it without my permission."
Matsurize nodded silently, and Ayane, seeing that, finally revealed the forbidden method.
> "You must venture deep into the Maze Forest. Face the Blade Wolves head-on.
And when you can capture a Single-Horned Blade Wolf alive — using only the Wolf-Catching Fist — your twin powers will awaken."
She leaned back with a sigh, her tale at last complete.
The story of the Wolf-Catching Fist — a legacy said to draw out the hidden forces of the body.
It was written in her family's old records, passed down from her father. Whether it was truth or myth, Ayane herself couldn't say. No one in her lineage had reached that level. Her father had gone to sea long ago, and whether he had succeeded — she would never know.
When she finished, she looked at Matsurize and smiled faintly.
> "Enough talk. Words can't teach you a fist. Come, Little Ze — practice with me."
But Matsurize shook his head, motioning for her to step back. His eyes were steady, intent.
Ayane tilted her head, intrigued. A suspicion formed in her heart — one she hardly dared believe.
Matsurize moved the chairs aside and sank into an incredibly low stance, knees nearly brushing the ground.
Ayane's eyes widened — her hunch was right.
It was the starting posture of the Wolf-Catching Fist.
His left hand clenched into a fist below, right hand open above, fingers curved like claws.
Then he moved — sweeping low, his legs sliding like twin brooms across the floor.
Suddenly, he leapt into the air, flipped, rolled upon landing, his movements alternating — one hand clawed, one relaxed, switching height and rhythm like a dance.
He kicked forward in short, powerful bursts, body close to the ground — a blur of motion and instinct.
Halfway through, his strength gave out. He collapsed, gasping, sprawled upon the floor.
Ayane stood frozen.
The movements — every stance, every strike — unmistakable.
What Matsurize had just performed was the Wolf-Catching Fist.
Half a set — but perfect.
Her shock deepened into awe.
That day, Ayane's understanding of Matsurize's physical gift — of what kind of prodigy he might truly be — changed forever.