Bruce grimaced as the clamp he'd made around Jenso's shoulder was itself caught in a hold, securing him to Jenso's back.
'If he's determined to bring me to the floor.' Bruce thought.
He wrapped his left arm around Jenso's neck from behind in a hold before Jenso lurched forward, rolling over Jenso's head with his back hunched such as to try to lessen the damage impact with the ground would cause. He maintained his grip on Jenso, intent on slamming his body face-forward onto the floor while he was still using one leg to support himself by dragging Jenso down with his body weight.

Jenso felt Bruce's arm wrap around his neck as he attempted to slam Bruce into the ground, but he didn't stop. He followed through on his attack, but Bruce managed to pull him over before he could pull his right leg back. The two ended up slamming into the ground, Jenso on his front while Bruce fell on his back. He grit his teeth in pain, but recovered quickly. 'My body should be somewhat more durable than Bruce's, and allow me to take more hits..' He thought, hoping the impact from the crash would lessen Bruce's grip around his shoulder and neck for a moment. He'd try to raise his upper body quickly in order to release his right arm on Bruce's right arm, and to push powerfully from below Bruce's left arm, aiming to push it over his head momentarily and quickly duck his head under in order to get his neck free from his hold. He had no intention of releasing Bruce's left arm, however.

Bruce grit his teeth against the impact but refused to stop moving. He craned his neck to his left shoulder, ripping the fabric of his toga such that the sleeve would come free with the least bit of force. That in mind, he yanked his left arm out of Jenso's closing grasp, leaving behind the discarded sleeve for Jenso's hand to close in on. He rolled into one side, pulling his right arm from Jenso's shoulder beneath him, beginning to press his body up off the ground while he was still horizontal. Using his newly freed left hand, he held his fingertips together and rigid like a blunt spearhead, stabbing into Jenso's right shoulder. Assuming he'd managed to strike a nerve bundle, the arm wouldn't be able to move for at least thirty seconds. Bruce whipped his weight around, pivoting on just his right hand and bringing his feet in a swinging arc toward the side of Jenso's head.

Jenso managed to get into a crouching position as Bruce rolled to his side and attacked, turning to face him as he quickly stood up. He rose his right shoulder as Bruce's spear thrust left several undeep cutting marks on his right arm instead, quickly wrapping his right arm around Bruce's left arm as it moved underneath. As Bruce kicked his feet at Jenso's head, he quickly ducked under Bruce's incoming feet, aiming to slam his left foot on Bruce's right hand in order to pin his hand in place against the ground. He launched a powerful punch with his left fist at Bruce's stomach as his feet passed overhead.

Bruce's vision flickered back in time. The feeling of being unarmed, Ki blocked, magic inaccessible called an image to mind that he'd been working hard to bury. Perhaps the imminence of facing a superior foe in the guise of the Order helped trigger it- it might have been the similarity of how he remembered being physically positioned back then. Regardless of the reason, for an instant, Bruce forgot entirely that it was Jenso he was grappling. And though it was brief, the memory brought down restraints against impulses he'd normally have quelled, and forced him into a state where pain of his own person didn't matter so long as he inflicted greater damage.
Bruce placed immense pressure on his right wrist to reverse the momentum of his double-legged kick. He bent back the knee of one leg, and snapped his foot toward the lower part of Jenso's right shin while Jenso's other foot was still off the floor, intent on both causing harm and throwing off his balance. Ignoring the impact of Jenso's fist, though it likely caused deep bruising, Bruce twisted his left hand such that his fingers dug into Jenso's bicep and yanked down, while at the same time he hurled up his other leg to slam his foot just below Jenso's stooped chin, aiming to bring the other combatant crashing down onto his back such that they'd be laying adjacent to one another with their feet in opposite directions. Bruce bared his teeth as his left arm threatened to dislocate as a result of the unusual way he was demanding that it pull Jenso down.
'If it breaks both our arms, so be it!' Bruce mentally declared.

Jenso took note of the fact that his attack hit, but Bruce didn't let up. Before he could pull his left arm back or place his foot on Bruce's right hand, Bruce's foot struck his chin, causing him to stagger slightly as he managed to recover his stance. He did his best to ignore the pain despite the fact that the kick left a serious bruise on his chin. As Bruce aimed his other foot at his chin and attempted to spin both of them around violently, his eyes widened. 'Is he losing his mind..?! If he does that, he'll..!' Jenso thought, not exactly keen on letting his arm or his companion's get broken.

He quickly rose his left fist in order to catch Bruce's foot before his second kick could connect to his face, tilting his head out of the way just in case, maintaining a sturdy stance as he pulled his own left foot backwards over the ground to avoid Bruce from pulling him down. He hoped that catching his foot would counter Bruce's dangerous spin maneuver, mainly focused on straight up cancelling the technique rather than attacking Bruce. "Bruce...don't take it too far. This training will be pointless if we severely injure eachothers before the fight with the Order." Jenso stated calmly, hoping to talk some sense into his companion.

"I think I'll stop it there, actually," Luke insisted, clapping his hands together, "I don't think either of you need much help in this category. It seems, even in such a little amount of time, you've improved Greatly, Jenso. You too Bruce. Man, this kind of stuff is intense. Makes me think I don't even need to lecture you guys.."

Jenso turned to Luke and nodded, releasing Bruce's foot and releasing his grip around Bruce's left arm gently to avoid Bruce from falling. "Alright.." He responded to Luke, waiting for Bruce to release his bicep on his right arm. He turned to Bruce and smiled at him as he took deep breaths. He got a wide grin on his face. "This fight was amazing, Bruce! You were a great opponent!" He stated respectfully, using his left hand to rub his injured shin for a moment.

Bruce blinked. Releasing all holds he had on Jenso, he stood and straightened up hastily. His mind had been moving at breakneck pace, a mantra, 'Everything is a weapon', repeating itself in his head. He subtly brushed a pressure point in his neck and the tension in his body ebbed out in a rush, bringing him back to the present reality.
"Yes. An excellent bout," Bruce muttered, replacing his sheath on his waist. His speech was vaguely slurred as a consequence of the self-imposed expulsion of bodily tension. His eyelids had drooped. "I apologize for that... lapse near the end."
'That hasn't occurred for years.'
Bruce sighed. He wanted a drink.

Jenso shook his head as Bruce apologised. "No need to apologise...it was a heated battle, after all. You just did whatever you felt was best in order to win...even though it was kinda reckless." Jenso replied. His stomach and shin still hurt somewhat, which was obvious due to his sloppy stance. He turned to Luke. "Thanks for the compliments, dad...so, now what?" He asked. Jenso himself wasn't exactly feeling the best as well, and could use some time to relax.

Luke sighed. "You're good at reacting, but in the heat of battle, it's just like I've said before. You need information. I'm going to expand on that a little," Luke mentioned, flexing his right arm. "Reacting to something, sometimes it's instinctual. You just do it, because it's what you need to do. But if you always take that style of combat, reflex, you'll get read faster than you can manage to keep up with. Even in a common fist fight. Although you both put a lot of effort into your styles of combat, I can bet they weren't as dynamic as you could have managed, even without access to your powers. You have to tap into other styles as well. Jenso, you've learned how to change your fighting a bit and enhance your reflex, and Bruce has always excelled at this form of combat, but the way you originally is good in some situations as well." Luke rose his hand and extended three of his fingers.

"Reflex, Force, and Withdrawal. Rock paper scissors. These are the fundamentals of manipulating the initiative. It's how you control damage, and Knowledge, which keep morale high, affecting your attitude as well. The three fundamentals of initiative, and the fundamentals to those.. Er... Fundamentals.." Luke rose his hand and scratched the front of his forehead. "Just eh.. They're all fundamental, y'know?"

"It's real simple, actually. Reflex is what both of you were usin' the entire fight. The watch and react type o' strategy, and to the un-educated, it would seem like the ultimate strategy, always playin' it safe, while still being aggressive. Basically, the middle ground," he insisted, shaking his head, "But even though you can outsmart less experienced enemies with the Reflex style, it can be manipulated easily. While on the defence, you allow your opponent to prepare things secretively. You don't threaten their attitude at all, giving them the initiative in that category even if you haven't sustained any damage yourself, especially if they're as arrogant or confident as the Order members. You let them control the flow of battle, despite how much it might seem like you may have the most resolute strategy. Truth is, in some situations, a Reflex style will never work, especially against foes like Rajaka who physically overpower us by a large degrees, as long as they hold the initiative in attitude. But it does have its strengths!" Luke rose his fist up and posed heroically. "Get it? If you have the initiative in attitude, the opponent will be more vulnerable, and more eager to attack you. Of course, you can fall for this too, if it seems like the fight is totally in their favour. In this situation, a Reflex style is possibly the most optimal choice of attack. Some people with particular abilities are also vulnerable to this style of attack from the get-go! Enemies that are using a Force Style with unpredictable moves, or a withdrawal style will easily take advantage of your caution..." Luke shrugged. "The Reflex style can even appear as if it's not a Reflex style. It can dress itself up easily."

"Force style is possible the most dangerous, but most effective style. It's Jenso's main form of combat, from what I've seen. Using your abilities to overwhelm the opponent with attacks that all of the intent of forcing them to either react or flee. If they can't use a reflex style to effectively counter it, or avoid it easily, a force style will usually grant you the initiative automatically in both attitude and damage, if you can land hits. Of course, while using a force style, you are also very vulnerable as well. It's a double edged sword with the highest benefit-to-detriment ratio. Unlike the other two styles, it cannot be hidden under the guide of Reflex or Withdrawal. With you're using force, you will be automatically granting your opponent a set amount of knowledge. This can easily give away the initiative in knowledge, despite having the highest potential to take initiatives elsewhere. You can use the same techniques over and over to minimise this, but by doing so, you make it much easier for opponents to use reflex and Withdrawal styles, allowing them to take advantage of your force and flip the table. Using force it great against enemies who are unable to dodge or defend. Overwhelming a powerful enemy is sometimes the only way to seize the initiative overall."

"Lastly, there's withdrawal style. To put it simply, it's running away. Of course, if you use a withdrawal style, you can still attack, making it seem like either a reflex style or force style. It's probably the most versatile, style, allowing you to completely hard-counter a reflex style, or abuse a force style. It also allows you to gather knowledge while not doing much yourself, and avoid damage entirely. However, using a withdrawal style has two severe downsides. You can't usually deal significant damage with it, and you can easily lose the initiative in attitude if you make a single mistake. It's best used as a punishment, a knowledge gather tool, or an option against slower opponents, or opponents with very few options."

"Knowing when to swap between styles is key. If you stick to one style throughout an entire fight against an opponent of greater strength, you will lose. But knowing how to apply strategy can give you an edge against opponents with overwhelming power advantages. Of course, if the opponent is smart enough, they can use this triangle against you, as well..." Luke paused and looked to Bruce and Jenso. "You two are fairly even in terms of raw strength, without your abilities. In this situations, using the same style against one another like this is like rolling the dice. The first one to make a mistake would automatically lose the initiative. And by the looks of it... Bruce took a pretty big risk despite there being no shift in initiative. You were evenly matched, and tied in the battle for initiative, both looking for options. But when both fighters are just trying to learn without taking major risks, a fight will always go to the stronger individual. Likewise, taking major risks without learning enough can cause the strongest fighter to lose the initiative, and sometimes, the entire match." Luke rubbed his head. "Man, it's kind of a paradox, aint it? To win, you gotta take risks, but if you take risks, you can easily lose..." He shrugged and chuckled the thought away. "Guess it's really just a matter of taking risks at the right time! Going for the highest chance of success! Sometimes a 50% chance of success is your only real option, over a 10% success rate later in the fight, haha!"

Jenso listened closely to all of Luke's words, overthinking what he'd said. He would try to remember these styles the best he could. He couldn't help but smirk proudly at his father. He may not have been as powerful as any of the trumps, but he certainly knew what he was talking about in terms of combat. "I see...I'll keep that in mind...thanks for the advice!" Jenso replied.

Bruce's eyes glazed over after listening to Luke's instruction. Once again, his mind traveled back in time, when his nomadic tendencies were still new. For a time, his style of combat had been not unlike Jenso's natural inclination toward force. He'd been exceedingly furious, and such a style found him as the aggressor in several situations that didn't necessarily end favorably for him, or for the innocent parties that were involved. The result of a particularly gruesome consequence of his actions were what bred caution in his own style of fighting. The consideration of returning to that frame of mind put Bruce ill at ease.
Yet, the Order would have no innocents among them.
'If it means the difference between failure and victory, I'll take any steps I have to.' Bruce thought.
Bruce nodded at Luke to show his appreciation and comprehension of the lesson. He rested his hand on his sheath- there was still much work to be done.

Luke smiled and closed his eyes with contentment. The next generation of freedom fighters was well underway... No, they weren't freedom fighters, like he was. The times were changing. Luke dealt with ruffians and scoundrels, men and women who sought to control. Not people who's sole purpose was to torture and destroy. Not real villains. Luke was pushing these kids in the right direction, towards a title he would never truly have himself.

Heroes.

Mikey's schedule called for one hour of leisure during the 18-hour work schedule. 6 hours of sleep, 1 hour of rest, and three 20-minute eating periods. Aside from that, it was work, work, work. Aside from the final day, which would allow 8-10 hours of sleep, it was relentless. But today, Bruce was called aside by Ross to review several subjects, despite being scheduled with him an hour later. Perhaps he needed more time? Or was just, extra eager? Who knew. Ross awaited him in the Hero-guild courtyard, which had been empty due to all the preparations being held inside. Nobody was resting or practising in the outdoor court, making it the perfect area for the two men to practice.

Bruce paced out into the courtyard, his eyelids drooped heavily and Ki flowing apparently freeform. He'd devised a means of meditation that could be implemented even in the brief minutes of walking from one location to another. The technique's origin lay in his drive to gain every spare second of training and improvement he could grasp. His pupils peeks out through the narrowest of cracks, while his Ki wavered in a rhythm around him, only occasionally missing a beat in a flow otherwise rivaling a metronome. Though, to his frustration, he'd only managed to progress so far with a handful of rhythms thus far. When he came to stand at a few arms lengths from Ross, the moving Ki receded in haste toward his sheath, where it dissipated. His eyelids snapped up, and he was all alert and clear of mind again.
"I'm looking forward to learning from you." Bruce said.
It was the truth- though Bruce now knew that his Ki supply was, stacked against his other abilities, his most powerful, he'd always believed his attachment to the earth to be the card he played that could turn tides of battle in his favor. This belief was why he'd often avoid revealing it until an opportune moment to surprise his opponent arrived- that is, if he could afford to keep it hidden. Against the caliber of opponent he was set to face, that wouldn't be an option.

"Heya, Bruce-boy. Glad to be of service, or whatever," Ross spat, half-assed in his attempt to adhere to formality, but of course, he dismissed the idea audibly not a moment later. "But, I'd rather you cut it out with the formal-talk while you're around me, kid. There ain't nothin' formal about magic, Ki, war, or anythin' goin' on lately." Ross nodded with a hefty shift of his shoulders and placed both his hands behind his head. "Speakin' o' which, how's that Ki control been these past couple days?"

Bruce half smirked at Ross' dismissal of extraneous dialogue. He glanced down at his sheath where the Ki had vanished, considering Ross' question.
"A bit tricky to say," Bruce admitted. "I've tapped into the wavelengths that Mikey mentioned and found more than a few that I can reliably reproduce at will. My current hurdle is finding the means of assigning that Ki of a given wavelength into a form that I can use."
Bruce thought of likening his progress with Ki to music, though he sincerely doubted Ross would appreciate the analogy. He did so anyway.
"I've found the meter for a few different consistencies and strengths in the flow of Ki- now I need to concentrate on a container, find the right measure to define that meter such that the beat continues playing according to rhythm. I'd say I might need the remainder of the day to rediscover the actual embodiment of my blade with what I've learned."

Ross frowned. "My sister used to play the harp," He quipped, pulling his massive arms forwards and plucking at the air in front of him playfully, "It was her weapon, bestowed by Gaia, like the legends say. But I knew better than that bullshit taught us. She just liked music a whole lot. Used it to buff people, used to make my strong enough to lift boulders bigger than the guild hall. She was a smart girl," Ross went on, drifting into a realm of personable discussion. He seemed to totally disregard was Bruce was saying, to a certain extent. Was this training? Or...

"You got any siblings? Alive or... Dead?"

Bruce's expression dropped, a cold stab piercing his heart. He glanced upward, breathing in deeply with the sky as his anchor before he answered.
"None by blood," he whispered. "In bond, her younger brother was almost as much my own. And according to law, he would have..." Bruce swallowed and let the sentence die off. "She loved music as well, but she hadn't the patience to train her fingers. Of the two of them, the older sister had the shorter attention span, at least in idle activities. He'd play the harp, the flute, anything she asked for he seemed to pick up readily."
A nostalgic and melancholic smile stretched across Bruce's features.
"She spoiled him, took his place to do the labor he dreaded so that he could keep practicing music for her that he'd reproduce at the end of each day."
Bruce blinked, remembering where he was, and the smile sank back down on his face.
"Yes, I did have a brother." Bruce said, answering Ross' inquiry.