Free Web NovelChapter 13: 13 | Mysterious Tessa
The afternoon sun beat down on the neighborhood, making the air shimmer with heat.
A dog barked from across the street as a car passed.
"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"
Rhythmic punching noises sounded out from the backyard of a small bungalow.
The punching swayed as a young man relentlessly punched at the bag with two jabs, a cross and a hook.
He was wearing a grey wife-beater that was soaked through with sweat.
He raised his fists again. Jab. Cross. Hook.
That young man is Dexter.
After two hours of grilling, he felt he was setting a hang of the whole punching thing.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead and drank an enormous water.
"You’re doing it wrong."
Dexter almost chocked in surprise. He lowered the water and glanced up at the fence line.
A girl was sitting on top of the wooden fence that separated his backyard from the neighbor’s property. She looked completely comfortable, as if sitting on a narrow wooden fence was the most natural thing in the world.
She looked sixteen, maybe seventeen. Red messy hair, tied back with a strip of cloth. Freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks like someone had flicked paint at her face. Green eyes that shone like a cat’s eye.
She wore a simple blue dress with a white apron. Which meant she’s either baking at home right now or works at one.
"Excuse me?" Dexter said.
"The punch." She pointed at the punching bag. "You’re leading with your shoulder. That’s why you keep losing your balance slightly after the hook."
Dexter stared at her. "How long have you been watching?"
"For 10 minutes give or take." She casually said. "You were very loud. I can hear you grunting from my kitchen."
Dexter felt heat crawl up his neck. He hadn’t realized anyone could hear him.
The girl swung her legs and dropped from the fence, and landed on the ground with a soft thud.
She was shorter than him by a few inches, but she carried herself with a confidence that made her seem bigger.
"I’m Tessa. Tessa Wren. I live next door." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "My dad owns the bakery on the corner."
"Oh." Dexter wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "I’m Dexter."
"I know." She said it blandly, without excitement or judgment. "Everyone knows."
Her mouth was quite sharp and faster than her brain.
"The bastard prince with crippled wives." She tilted her head, studying him. "That’s what everyone in the neighborhood is calling you."
Dexter’s face hardened slightly. "Is that so."
"It is." Tessa walked past him to the punching bag and gave it a light tap with her knuckles. It barely moved. "The old ladies at the market think you’re a scandal. The men think you’re either crazy or brilliant.
"And what do kids like you think?" Dexter asked.
"The kids think you’re interesting." She looked back at him. "And I think you’re bad at punching."
Dexter suddenly chuckled.
"I guess I owe you a thanks then."
"You’re welcome." Tessa turned around and touched the fence.
All of a sudden, she leapt up and landed on the narrow top wood like a cat.
The fence wasnt even two inches wide but she stood on it as if it were solid ground.
"Here is how you punch," Her voice suddenly turned serious as she clenched her fists then started shadow boxing.
"Power comes from the ground and the waist," she said. "Not the arm. The arm is just the delivery system. The real punch starts in your feet."
She gestured at the bag. "Try it."
Dexter looked at her for a moment. Then he turned to the punching bag, set his feet, and threw a hook.
This time, he led with his hip. He rotated his waist, transferred his weight, and let his fist follow the momentum.
"Bang!"
It sounded like a sharp crack as his fist struck the punching bag.
Dexter raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You’re a fast learner," Tessa smiled.
Dexter clenched and then three another hook, then another. Each one landed with that same sharp crack, sending bag swinging harder and harder.
The difference was quite incredible.
He turned to Tessa. "Where did you learn that?"
She shrugged. "You learn a thing or two in this neighborhood. People here aren’t as simple as they seem."
Dexter squinted. He focused on her, trying to read her energy waves. Everyone who absorb mana emit an energy wave that others can feel to determine their power level. Just like how you look at someone to determine if he’s insane or not.
Well, unless they’re hiding it that is.
But Tessa was like a calm lake with no ripple.
Dexter frowned. He couldn’t get a reading on her at all. Which either meant she’s a normal human or she’s a whole realm higher then him.
But he was certain of one thing: she was a hero.
"You’re a hero," he said.
Tessa’s expression didn’t change. "Am I?"
"Awakened Or Super?"
"I’m just an ordinary girl with no energy to read." She shrugged.
"Ordinary girls can’t stand on a two-inch fence rail without falling."
Tessa smiled an astonishing smile. "Maybe I just have good balance."
Dexter stared at her for a long moment. Then he shook his head. She wasn’t going to tell him. Fine. He had bigger problems.
"You’re training to become a hero, aren’t you?" Tessa suddenly asked.
"Something like that." Dexter turned back to the punching bag and resumed his fisting but this time, he reduced his striking force.
She tilted her head again. "You’ll probably die in your first dungeon."
"Probably."
"But you’re still going anyway."
"I have to." Dexter glanced at the house. Through the kitchen window, he could see the faint outline of someone sitting at the table — Lyra, probably.
Tessa was quiet for a moment. The sound of traffic, dog barking and Dexter’s punch filled the silence.
"My mother was a hero," Her voice lowered softly.
