CHAPTER 4: The glare of a monster
For the next week, Liam trained tirelessly with Dreck, honing his skills in hand-to-hand combat. They spent countless hours in the training room, perfecting techniques and building Liam's strength, speed, and agility.
Dreck taught Liam foundational stances—the front stance, back stance, and horse stance. Liam held each one for extended periods, muscles burning, sweat dripping, pushing himself harder every time.
Next came punches and kicks. Dreck demonstrated each form with precise movements, stressing the importance of balance, coordination, and power. Liam mimicked him carefully, starting slow and controlled, gradually picking up speed and intensity.
They also drilled defensive techniques—blocks, parries, and evasion. While they were training Liam asked, uncle dreck how did you know all of that, about my parents, since they were top assassins it was supposed to be a top secret,oh that i forgot to mention i was also an assassin and i was your father's right hand man, what? you were?yes of course.Now that's enough chit chatting, you should concentrate here,dreck said as they continued training. Liam learned to anticipate incoming attacks, sharpen his reflexes, and react instinctively to different threats. As days passed, the training grew increasingly intense. His body ached from exertion, but he endured. The pain didn't matter. He had a mission now.
Alongside training, Dreck enrolled Liam in a nearby school. At first, Liam was hesitant. A new school, new faces—it felt strange and out of place. But Dreck insisted it would give him structure, something to hold onto while he grew stronger.
The school was modern and well-staffed, with skilled teachers and a diverse student body. On his first day, nerves gnawed at him, but Dreck's words echoed in his mind, calming him. Slowly, Liam adjusted. He made a few friends. He found himself enjoying certain classes. Still, revenge burned quietly inside him like a second heart.
---
Monday came. After school, Liam rushed home, eager to resume training. Though Dreck had planned to end early, Liam was insistent.
"The body needs rest, Liam," Dreck said with a chuckle. "Rest is also a form of training."
Liam nodded, but after staying in his room for just eight minutes, he slipped out quietly, instinctively. His footsteps were light, almost silent—something in his blood remembering how to move like a ghost. He didn't know it, but the legacy of his assassin parents was already waking within him.
He arrived at the training ground and unsheathed his sword, recalling Dreck's promise to begin sword training. He began swinging, side to side, stepping backward, repeating the movements he had memorized.
Suddenly, Dreck appeared behind him.
Liam froze. "How did you know I was here? Were you going to train too?"
Dreck smiled. "No, I came to stop you. But I knew you were here... I felt your presence."
Liam blinked. "You felt me? Is that even possible?"
Dreck nodded. "It's a technique called Ambient Awareness. It lets me sense the atmosphere around me, detect movements—even from miles away. Mine stretches up to ten miles. I use it to keep an eye on the house, in case of attacks."
Liam was in awe. "You mean you can sense what's happening ten miles away?"
"With focus," Dreck explained. "I can't pick up everything, but I can detect specific threats if I concentrate."
He added, "Your father learned this in a week. You'll probably need two. Maybe less."
Dreck told Liam to try sensing him with his eyes closed. Liam focused, but at first, he felt nothing.
"It takes time," Dreck reassured him.
Liam tried again—this time, putting more energy into it. He felt something—faint and fleeting.
"Wait... Uncle Dreck, I felt it! It was just for a second, but—"
"That's amazing, Liam," Dreck said, genuinely impressed. "You really are something else."
Liam concentrated once more. This time, he held the sensation for a full twenty seconds. Dreck's eyes widened.
"You're picking this up faster than I expected. To tell you the truth... I'm terrified of your potential."
As the session ended, Dreck said, "Now, I'm concealing my presence. Try sensing me again."
Liam focused hard. "Uncle Dreck, I can't feel you anymore."
"That's because I've hidden myself. I'll teach you that trick another day."
"Yes, Master," Liam replied with a proud grin, heading off to bed—shocked and thrilled by how far he'd already come.
---
Tuesday.
At school, Liam spent time with his new friends, Ethan and Lucas. They were chatting and laughing, waiting for class to start.
Then trouble arrived.
A bully named John strolled in with four boys flanking him like bodyguards. He stepped in front of Liam and sneered. "Heard your parents were killed by assassins."
Liam didn't answer.
John grabbed the front of Liam's uniform. "Hey! I'm talking to you. You want your butt kicked? Apologize, and we'll leave you alone."
After a pause, Liam said calmly, "I'm sorry. Yeah... they were killed by assassins."
John smirked, but it wasn't enough. He shoved Liam hard, sending him to the floor. His goons laughed, spitting and taunting.
But then, Liam looked up.
His stare—cold, piercing, unnatural—froze them in place. Something primal stirred in the air. It was as if a monster had opened its eyes from within him.
The bullies flinched. The air around Liam felt heavy, dangerous.
John's gang stepped back instinctively, fear creeping into their faces. They tripped and fell, scrambling on their hands and knees to get away, their bravado gone.
Liam didn't move. He just watched. Silent. Unshaken.