The base of the League of Assassins was a fortress carved into the side of a mountain, it’s dark stone walls blending seamlessly with the jagged cliffs that surrounded it. 

Inside, the halls were lit by flickering torches, casting long shadows that danced across the ancient tapestries and weapons adorning the walls. 

The air was thick with the scent of incense and the faint metallic tang of steel. It was a place of discipline, of order, and of secrets—a stark contrast to the untamed wilderness where Jason had spent the past three days.

Ra’s al Ghul led Jason through the labyrinthine corridors, their footsteps echoing in the silence. 

They passed training rooms filled with assassins honing their skills, their movements precise and deadly. Jason couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the level of skill on display, but he also felt a growing determination. He would master his combat training, no matter what it took.

They reached a secluded chamber deep within the base, its walls lined with shelves filled with ancient scrolls and texts. In the center of the room was a large stone table, its surface covered in maps and diagrams. Ra’s gestured for Jason to sit, then took his place at the head of the table.

“You have made progress in taming your emotions and mastering your physical body,” Ra’s began, his voice calm but commanding. “But true stealth is more than just hiding in the shadows or moving silently. It is about erasing your presence entirely—becoming one with your surroundings, so that even the most alert individuals cannot sense you.”

Jason leaned forward, his interest piqued. “How do I do that?”

Ra’s smiled faintly, a rare expression that hinted at approval. “It begins with understanding the concept of muga—the state of no-self. 

When you achieve muga, you become invisible in the dark not just to the eyes, but to all senses. You are no longer yourself alone. You are the air, the shadows, the silence.

Jason frowned, trying to wrap his head around the concept. “Sounds like a bunch of philosophical mumbo jumbo.”

Ra’s chuckled softly. “Perhaps. But philosophy and practicality are not mutually exclusive. To achieve muga, you must first master the art of zanshin—the state of relaxed awareness. 

You must be aware of everything around you, yet remain completely relaxed. Only then can you blend into your environment so seamlessly that you become undetectable.”

He stood and motioned for Jason to follow. They left the chamber and made their way to a large training hall, its floor covered in soft mats. Ra’s handed Jason a blindfold and a pair of weighted gloves. “Put these on. You will learn to rely on your other senses.”

Jason obeyed, slipping the blindfold over his eyes and pulling on the gloves. The world went dark, and the added weight made his movements feel sluggish. 

Ra’s voice came from somewhere in front of him, calm and steady. “Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Feel the air moving in and out of your lungs. Listen to the sounds around you—the rustle of fabric, the creak of the floorboards, the distant hum of the torches.”

Jason did as he was told, forcing himself to relax. He focused on his breathing, letting it slow and deepen. The sounds of the training hall became sharper, more distinct. He could hear the faint scrape of Ra’s boots on the mats, the subtle shift of his robes as he moved.

“Now,” Ra’s said, his voice barely above a whisper, “try to sense my presence. Do not rely on your eyes. Use your other senses.”

Jason concentrated, his mind reaching out like a radar. He could feel Ra’s presence, a faint pressure in the air, but it was elusive, shifting and changing like a shadow. He took a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The weighted gloves made his arms feel heavy, but he forced himself to ignore the discomfort.

Ra’s moved silently, his footsteps barely making a sound. Jason strained to follow him, his senses stretched to their limits. He could feel the air currents shifting as Ra’s moved, the faintest whisper of fabric brushing against skin. He turned, following the sensation, but Ra’s was always one step ahead.

“You are trying too hard,” Ra’s said, his voice coming from behind him. “Relax. Let go of your logical thoughts. Become the air.”

Jason took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He let go of the tension in his muscles, his body becoming loose and fluid. 

He focused on the sensations around him, letting them flow through him like water. Slowly, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the faint pressure of Ra’s presence.

He moved, his steps light and silent. The weighted gloves no longer felt like a burden; they were an extension of his body. He could feel Ra’s presence more clearly now, a subtle shift in the air. He turned, his movements smooth and effortless, and reached out.

His hand brushed against Ra’s shoulder, and he heard a faint chuckle. “Better,” Ra’s said. “But you still have much to learn.”

By the end of the week, Jason’s progress was undeniable. He had grown quieter, more attuned to the subtle nature of his surroundings. Each day is more intense than the last. Ra’s pushed Jason to his limits, forcing him to refine his senses and master the art of zanshin. 

Contrary to Muga which was the state of no mind, Zashine was focused more on a state of awareness.

They practiced in the training hall, in the forest, and even in the bustling streets of a nearby village. Jason learned to blend into his surroundings, to move without a sound, and to erase his presence entirely. Just like an expert assassin.

– – –

[Three months later]

Just another day at the League’s base, everyone and everything went on with their daily routines.

This morning the training ground had Damian engaged in hand to hand combat, he had a lot to cover up in that field. Being a kid and all had it’s disadvantages if he’s without a weapon, despite how nimble he was with that stature of he’s.

He needed to make up for his size and lack of physical power. So, his focus was more on precision and technique.

With how he was dominating his grown up opponent, it was easy to see the time and effort he had put into his training. That much was expected of him. 

As the heir to the League, his shoulders are burdened by the pressure of his birthright. This has made him so very determined to be the best at everything worth acknowledging by his grandfather, the Demon’s Head.

Nah—not determined, more like obsessed with being the best. That was a lot of pressure for a child to bear. He knows nothing of a normal childhood, only training and combat.

With all the expectations and responsibilities his heritage has placed on him, being the heir to the League did have its advantages. 

It gives him access to premium training, his dedication, resilience, fear of disappointing his mother and grandfather, were the propelling forces behind this prodigy’s diligent and energetic attitude towards training exercises.

He evaded a strike from his opponent, and countered by invading his personal space as he landed a direct blow to his opponent’s solar plexus, causing him to drop to his knees and down on his face, unconscious.

Maintaining a stern expression and without the slightest hint of satisfaction from his victory like it was some mundane chore, he took his bow and proceed to descend the arena.

“You know you are supposed to look pleased from your victory, but its alright if you aren’t aware.” Jason’s voice reached him, practically dripping with sarcasm as they crossed path while he ascended the arena.

Damian halted, making a circuitous turn as he averted his gaze at Jason who was already at the edge of the arena. “Please, a victory such as that isn’t worth acknowledging. It is only normal I win.” 

He replied with a stern look in his eyes and with no tonal inflection in his voice, then proceeded to join the others to watch from the sidelines.

Both participants took their stance as they awaited the command to bash the other’s face in.

“Begin!”

Ra’s instructed as they both lunged themselves at each other. Jason currently battled a skilled member of the League, one that would have easily taken him down a couple months ago. 

But that doesn’t seem to the case at this point. He was holding his ground against his opponent, matching up to skill, only being pushed back due to the years of experience his opponent had under his belt.

“He shows significant levels of improvement.” Taking stance right next to her father, Talia joined him to watch the ongoing sparring session. 

“Yes he does, daughter.” He replied with the slight expression of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“He shows improvement in skill, and adaptability.” Talia observed, watching as Jason seem to have gotten the rhythm of his opponent and now made the fight seem to be on even grounds.

“Within the past couple of months, I’ve trained the boy on basic skills needed to be a good assassin. His progress as we move forward, depends on him.” Ra’s earned himself a side glance from his daughter who looked at him with an hint of disbelief.

“You doubt me, daughter?” He asked, averting his gaze her way.

“In no way do I bare doubtful thoughts towards you, father. But your previous statement sounded unlike youself.”

With a brow cocked up, Ra’s stared at her intensely, almost in scrutiny. “What do you mean?”

“I know you would do anything and everything within your power to push Jason towards his innate potential, and not do a little and leave the rest of his progression in his hands.”

“Hmmm.” Stroking his chin as he thought on it, Ra’s could not help the brief laughter that escaped his lips.

“You are right indeed, daughter.”

Talia knew her father better than anyone, she knew he wouldn’t sit back and leave Jason’s progress in his own hands, serving only as a guide and instructor along the way.

No, he wouldn’t. His plans to groom the boy into the perfect assassin and possibly a contender to his succession.

“So far he has displayed unwavering loyalty to our cause. But I wonder if he is committed enough to the order that he would go against the subconscious programming the detective did to his morals during his time with him.”

“Wait…are you saying even though he is without memories, the morals Bruce had engraved into him is still at play subconsciously?” Talia questioned, confusion etched in her voice.

“It would seem like so.” Her father replied. “Though he understands there are times when killing is a necessity, he still shows signs of resistance before taking a life, then self scrutinize after.”

“Those are traits unbecoming of a proper assassin.” She replied, feeling a sense of relief that Jason wasn’t a full blown murder just yet. Even upon heavy influence from the Lazarus Pit to take lives so as to feed the hunger, the overwhelming thirst to take lives, he still had his humanity.

But that relief wasn’t long lived as her father seem to have a plan regarding that minor issue. A way to mold and reshape the boy into the ideal assassin.

“That issue would be dealt with, in time.” He replied, while both watched Jason takedown his opponent and forced him into submission.

To Ra’s, having him shed his humanity would just result in a soulless soldier who lives for the sake of his mission and in turn would lack the flexibility and will power to do whatever it took to survive.

A smirk appeared across Ra’s al Ghul’s lips as he watched Jason claim his victory, envisioning the path he was leading him to.

A path where logical initiatives overwrite emotional actions. An individual with talents such as Jason’s, needed to be groomed and fine tuned into the perfect assassin.

Emotions were useless to an assassin. A fledged soldier of the League had to be without emotions.

“He was reported to have acted out of the mission objectives given to him, and rescued some kids in Khalid’s captivity.” He spoke in a calculated cold tone.

“You speak like he has committed a crime, he is human after all.” Talia replied, turning to her father.

“He did complete the mission’s objective before acting off course.” Ra’s said as he turned to take his leave. “He shows sympathy in his eyes, I would have to erase that and mold him into the perfect soldier.”

With that, he took his leave, earning a side gaze from Talia as she feared her father’s plans for the young lad.

Having him kill off his emotions in the name of creating the perfect soldier would lead to him becoming a fearsome and ruthlessly efficient assassin, even among the top members of the league.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep