General Folarin glanced briefly at the balcony up above, remembering the time when he was down here, training and his most beloved offspring, Ibiyemi stood up there, watching.

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his fist, wiping off the tiny drop of tears that had coagulated there.

His daughter would do him proud, no doubt!

Surely she would.

*

"How was it, Ibiyemi? My performance." He asked smiling at the railing up above on which Ibiyemi stood, looking down at the training session.

*

His memory flashes and the event so fthat day trickled back to him.

*

Still in awe, Ibiyemi blinked as if waking from a dream.

"I...I don't know. It's too... Fast. " Folarin chuckled.

"Daughter, listen, if I am going to leave the leadership of the guild in your hands, then you must be extremely fast and strong too." He said, sheathing the blade.

"I know. I just ascended recently, you know." She replied with a pout.

*

"Oh Ibiyemi!" Folarin stroked his finger length graying beard that outlined his cheeks down to the jaws, increasing in length as it progressed down. "Are you strong now? And fast? And... I trust you wouldn't let me down. Even if I feel like a comedian here."

"Ha!" Folarin huffed, his feet pounding on the concrete floor as he raced himself to the wall. Swiftly, he threw himself up in the air, running one, two and with the third steps, he thrust his bulky mass into a flip.

He turned, the power of the jump, taking him high up and farther away. Having reached his maximum height, he let his body sense the air, trying to pick out the locations of the circularly placed dummies.

With that set, he began to fall. He twisted his body again, setting himself into a downward dive as the blade was positioned in both hands before him.

"Haaa..." Folarin huffed, swiping his hands with so much force, to chop the heads of the dummies close to him.

Doing so halted his fall, his body zooming in the direction of the slash, to the side.

He slammed through the dummies he had being unable to reach, eventually slamming into the wall of the pit.

With a grimace, he compressed his weight towards that shoulder, the right shoulder, converting the wall to a sort of bouncing pad while transferring the blade to his left hand.

Fuelled by the impetus of that action, he burst through the air, rebounding to his left as he lifted the right knee up.

And with a huff, he swept the blade outwardly, cleaving off the dummies head again.

His body twisted to the direction of the blade, nearing down to the ground entirely. Just then, Folarin swung the blade again, and again, each swing adjusting the momentum of his body while cleaving through the many sets of dummies before he landed , Superhero styled.

He lifted his head now and smiled, looking about at all the carnage he'd administered to the dummies, each one fallen to the ground, headless and decapitated.

*CLAP! CLAP!! CLAPP!!!

Claps arrested his attention, startling him to his feet. He immediately, turned around,.his eyes locked on the balcony, watching with a scowl as his errant son stepped up to the railings.

"What are you doing? This is a private pit? How did you get to my office chambers?" Folarin gritted his teeth, pointing his sword at him.

"Easy, easy now, father. You know, your rage gets you to use Agbara and right now, Agbara is bad for your health!" Afolabi chuckled, looking down at the General.

He Is dressed similarly to the General except that he has no bead on and unlike the father, his body is athletically built, less muscled and has two dagger sheaths at his waist.

"Grrrr... What do you want?" Folarin snarled.

"Simple! I thought you would do better against a live opponent than dummies." Afolabi replied, hefting himself over the railings, down into the pit.

"Besides, what's better than a father son discussion?" He smiled, landing on his feet, his body bent over to lessen the impact effect on his legs.

"So, let's spar, okay" He added, unsheathing the daggers. "Discussion can be during the spar time."

Folarin's eyes narrowed as he put out the sword in both hands before him, pacing his legs apart.

"Right!" Afolabi mutters, lunging forward, his weapons drawn back with the bent elbows. "Law of Chance and trickery: Nimble Feet!"

His form flickered as he dashed forward, gaining grace and speed more than before. Appearing before his father in a heartbeat, he brought his daggers up front for a stab. However, his eyes flashed, seeing that he was not going to make it as the General's sword already was coming down on his head.

With his speed now, all that was needed to damage him was to for him to run forward into the blade's descending path.

He'd been baited.

Quickly, he swung his hands, bringing the daggers to clash underneath the sword while forcefully halting his movements. The daggers connected at the tips, forming a shield like effect that stopped the sword.

"Haa!" The sword's weight rebounded on him as he struggled to still hold the daggers together. And then, he threw the daggers off, shoving away the sword.

Huffing, before his eyes, Folarin used the sword to gain momentum, capitalising on the daggers' resistance to the sword as he hopped into a back flip, putting distance between himself and his errant son.

Still, Afolabi was not done yet. He hurled the daggers one after the other to the flipping General. But to his dismay, the General twisted gracefully, flipping over down as he avoided the daggers.

"Futile!" He cursed, swinging his arms back, the daggers suddenly being yanked out of the air, towards his fists. "I know what you're doing, father."

"Law of Chance; Nimble Feet!" He chanted, throwing himself forward.

"And what would that be?"

Afolabi slashed wildly with his right to the right, only to be countered by the sword of the General.

Snarling, he repeated the same attack with the left, blocked again by the sword.

He threw his dagger to the left of the General's face, watching him dodge by moving to the opposite direction. Then, he hurled the second dagger at that direction, yanking back the first one just as Folarin dodged into it's path.

Immediately, the General's eyes flashed as he twisted himself into a swirling turn, dodging the first dagger by a hair's breadth and dodging the second one too as it returned back, his face walled swiftly by the daggers.

At that, he reached out, dashing and climbing the wall as he flipped over Afolabi, standing behind him.

"You've become strong." Folarin smiled. "Must be training really hard to unseat me." He chuckled as Afolabi turned around, mockery in his eyes

"I've not improved, father. Can't remember the last time I trained. So, I'm not strong.

Rather, it's you who has become weak."

Folarin's gasped, a trickle of essence dripping down from his beard.

He had actually been cut!