The island had about twenty students, off the coast of Venice, a refuge for those who preserve the lost arts of hamon. It is here Evander begins his practice of the lost art. It is here, sipping tea, that Messina explains, "What you encountered that night is a vampire. Beings born of a stone mask thought to have been wiped out. However, followers of a man named Dio Brando have reassembled it, from a mix of envy and pride of Dio's power. You want to stop them?"

"Yes," Evander nods, "I must."

"May I ask why?" Messina inquires handing Evander a fresh warm cup of tea.

Evander nods, explaining, "I've felt lost for a while. I'm not content to meander through life, I want to make the world better than when I entered it. I believe that to be my purpose. I tire of this aimlessness that drives me towards self destruction. I have also seen vampires pose a threat to all they happen across. Only a selfish fool would ignore that when offered the means to help. It would be one thing if I had never been given the chance to learn hamon, or if I was busy with other matters, or it was past what I could reasonably due without sacrificing my health and happiness, but since I am free to help, and have been offered the means to do so, and none of the above it would be a betrayal of morality and my duty to my fellow man to do nothing."

"I understand," Messina nodded. "But I feel there's another reason, not to imply you and your worldview are not genuine but that as people often do, have overlapping motives."

"I am trying to break an old habit and hope a new purpose will assist me in doing so," Evander conceded, to ashamed of his past mistakes to speak of them directly.

Messina nods in understanding. "Very well. Then here is your first lesson."

Messina flips his cup, the tea staying within, glowing with hamon. Messina takes deep breaths, in and out, allowing the hamon to flow.

"Hamon is a matter of breath," Messina explains, "Think fast!"

He tosses Evander the cup, who catches it, mimicking his teacher's breathing. Sparks fly from his fingers, holding the tea in place, he feels a tension in his chest, a tickle in his throat, as he attempts to keep is breathing steady. However, the hamon holds strong.

"Continue that as long as you can," Messina requests, "It's clear you already have potential, but that will give me an idea of what I'm working with. I will return shortly."

Messina nods in understanding. He does his best to hold it in place after Messina leaves, but after a moment, the tickle becomes a scratching, and Evander can hold it in no longer, he has to cough. He drops the cup, it shattering upon the floor, the cough breaking his hamon flow as he hacks up spit.

"Damn..." he mutters to himself. "But I can do this. I know I can use this... hamon stuff. Just have to work around the cough..."

And so with this in mind, the lessons continue. Evander does well in tests of strength, sparring with other students, besting then quickly with an aggressive fighting style.

It is however, after one such fight, that his weakness becomes clear to his master.

By now, Evander is a much more toned man, albeit staying somewhat mean in figure, he has a lean muscle, an agile build. The other student he is sparring with is of a similar build, with blonde hair and green eyes, wearing a karate gi with a black belt. Evander steadies his stance and nods silently at his rival, who nods back and charges.

Messina watches in silent contemplation, merely observing with a stern glare. The student charges Evander with a left hook which Evander ducks under. "To slow!" He declares pulling back for an uppercut only to have his arm grabbed by a piece of cloth. The black belt! The student used it as a weapon!

The student throws Evander into the water, but Evander manages to get back his footing, using his hamon to stand upon the crystal clear waters of the bay. Only to be betrayed, that tickle in his throat returning.

"Not now," he mutters to himself as he attempts to steady his breathing, only to cough, and fall into the drink.

Messina gives a disappointed sigh and orders, "That's enough."

The student stands down, allowing Messina to approach and explain to Evander as he helps him back onto dry land, "I'm afraid that your training can go no further."

"But master Messina-" Evander protests.

Messina raises his hand to command silence and elaborates, "That cough, if you were to continue to train as a hamon user and your lungs were to fail you in a real fight, it could very well spell your end."

"I work around it!" Evander retorts, "It's why I fight so aggressively, I keep it short and sweet!"

"There will be times you must use stamina," Messina continues, "It would be irresponsible of me as your master to send you after the vampire's knowing the danger it poses to you. You simply do not possess the lung capacity, the stamina, to correct this weakness."

"Let me try!" Evander retorts, "You know I'm a strong hamon user! Let me prove to you I do!"

Messina thinks for a moment, and then looks Evander dead in the eye, demanding, "Are you sure?"

Evander nods, "I am as sure as my heart still beats."

Messina returns to contemplating his options, before nodding, "Very well. Follow me."

Messina leads Evander into a large structure on the island, a massive tower in a pit of oil. It is clear as day to Evander that to drop down there could mean death if he's unable to escape.

"Are you sure?" Messina repeats.

Evander looks into the pit, the black abyss of oil which could well become his tomb, but he recalls his resolve, his desire to help people and protect them from the beast he encountered weeks prior, and his resolve to see this through, to put his past behind him.

"I am certain," Evander declares.

"Very well," Messina sighs, before shoving Evander into the pit.

Evander collects himself quickly after landing in the cold oil.

He looks up at the trial before him, the pillar that pierces what appears to be the Heavens themselves from where he's viewing it. Taller than anything he ever imagined he could climb, let alone a smooth stone pillar covered in slick oil.

"This place will be my tomb if I don't get out," Evander mutters.

He looks at the pillar once more. As tall as ten men, if not more, stone so smooth it does not give an inch to claw into, and oil so slick he could ice skate at the bottom of the well with his hamon atop the pool of oil that prickles his flesh with that vile chill.

This pillar could be his end!

ゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴゴ

Evander is no fool, and knows well he doesn't have it in him to make the long, days long climb without coughing and disrupting his hamon flow.

He has to find another way.

"There are a times a man should not back down," he declares, "Where people should stand their ground to do what's right! Times where man should accept their own limits and stop, prioritize a healthy work life balance and accept they can only do so much..."

Charging his hamon he sends it out through the oil, declaring in defiance of his weakness, "However, there are also times to work around one's limits!"

Manipulating the oil with his hamon, he sends a torrent blasting up the side of the pillar. A layer of oil far thicker and more conductive upon one side of the pillar.

"Wh-" Messina stammers, "What?"

Evander throws his black boots into the oil, standing on the oil as he sends hamon through his toes. Shocked, Messina exclaims, "He's sending the oil up the side of the tower and standing on it? Surely he can't intend to-"

But he fully intends to do just as Messina suspects. With a battle cry, full speed, every ounce of hamon in his body, he sprints on the thickened oil up the tower.

"A- amazing!" Messina declares, "By using his hamon to send oil up the side of the tower and thicken it on one side to create a stronger conductor for his hamon, avoiding his weakness of low stamina by using all his hamon at once!"

Vander's lungs burn, his legs feel like jelly, and he's only halfway up. His vision begins to blur, but he keeps breathing. He has no choice.

"But the amount of strength needed for such a feat is immense!" Messina continues internally, "Even if he adopts a style of short bursts, can he keep such a burst with such intensity for long enough to climb the tower? If he lapses for even a second, he will be too tired to try again! There's no way!"

With a final battle cry, Vander puts all his strength into a final leap, passing the threshold and landing atop the tower in absolute exhaustion. "Told you..." Vander laughs coughing heavily, gasping for hair as he catches breath, "I know I lack stamina. I'm not the best hamon user and I never will be, but I can still help people. I can still play to my strengths, and work around my weaknesses. I can be... the best I can be."

Messina thinks for a moment and decides, "Very well then. You have accomplished a great feat today, surpassing a trial of stamina with a mix of wisdom and raw power. Your fighting style is based on bursts of speed and power, using your lean build to approach and strike quickly. It's clear to me now that you have a specific set of skills with value, albeit useless in some situations, you are strong. Congratulations, young Vander, you hey j your vampire hunting in three days time. Rest until then..."