Warden ignored him for now. He still hadn't managed to grasp what he thought he should. His calculation was that he needed more practice.
And obviously, more comprehension.
He summoned his Intent and drew onto the patterns of ambient energy. The wind rushed at him, as he manipulated them to swirl along with his spear dance. He waited for a couple of seconds to build up the attack—which was quite so ti, considering even a millisecond could be the difference between life and death in a battle.
Warden practised until his energy ran out, and his mind was too exhausted to bring out more of his baleful intent. He sat down to ditate again, and a couple of hours later, he began to practise again.
He went on this repetitive cycle of practice and ditation for quite so ti. His skills in manipulating the pattern rose as well, though they could hardly be compared to the Fourth Disciple, who watched him practise throughout.
A day passed, and Warden hadn't slept. After finishing another round of practice, Warden brought out his kitchen appliances and began cooking sothing rich and healthy.
"Are you hungry?" he shouted at the man.
The dark-skinned man ca out of his ditation and shot him a sour look.
"Should I make sothing for you as well?" Warden asked.
"You're making all that stuff for yourself?" the man asked. "By the blind gods, they should be enough to feed a small village."
"I'm making sothing for you too, then." Warden whistled an unfamiliar tune as he cut the vegetables. He didn't make anything extravagant, only sothing rich in essence and easy to digest, and needless to ntion, tasty.
"Do you cook your own food here?" Warden asked the sour-looking man, while preparing their plates.
"Yes," he answered curtly. "But not often. I can go without food for over a month. Gold ranker constitution."
"I thought you ntioned your gold rank essence had deteriorated?"
The sword master didn't give a reply. Warden didn't mind and served him the plate, while he devoured four or five tis more than the forr gold ranker. His body demanded it.
The man shot him another surprised look, understanding the food wasn't for a small village.
"A secret to my endurance," Warden chuckled.
Finishing his breakfast, which would be his only al for the day, Warden ditated a little. Recovering his energy and essence was way easier once he learned to manipulate the pattern.
He jumped to his feet with renewed vigour and summoned up his spear. Warden was about to begin practice, but instead set his sight on the forr gold ranker.
"Hey, Fourth Disciple, wanna go at it once more?" he asked, hoping to get more inspiration from the man's style.
"I would never say no to a good duel." The master of the sword stood up, his blade ready in his arms. "However, if you think you can contend with with those copied forms, you'd be vastly mistaken. Your forms are but a pinprick against my raging storm."
"Copied?" Warden snorted. "I guess you could say that. Just wait until I find my way. You can't say it's copied when my moves will be better than yours."
"Arrogance," the fourth disciple of Oa'keam barked. "Then show what you have glimpsed upon."
Both n shot at one another, sword and spear clashing with a resounding clang. Sparks of pattern twirled on contact with their weapons, as wind rushed in, creating chaos in its movent.
"This was fun," Warden said, matching the forr gold ranker in raw skills.
"For a pesky Iron ranker, you do have so skill," the man admitted.
"I have had a similar circumstance to yours," Warden mumbled. "Anyway, call upon your Intent... Let experience your sword once again."
The sword master brimd with the essence of sharpness. "Can your trick save you once more?"
Warden didn't answer and charged at the man.
For the next couple of days, Warden practised and sparred with the fourth disciple. Warden had learned his na was Karim, along with many tidbits of his life before he was tricked by the Immortal.
After the first day, it wouldn't be wrong to say Warden was under his tutelage, if not for how bloodied and spent each sparring session left him. Unfortunately, Karim couldn't seem to differentiate between a spar and a duel.
Well, Warden couldn't complain. After all, he was learning sothing too profound. No gold rankers would give such attention to him, much less their deeply coveted secret arts.
Honestly, Warden didn't want to learn the Sword of Ascension. He was practising to create sothing tailor-made for him alone. It was just that Karim's style had clicked right with him.
"Your improvent in manipulating wind is staggering," Karim said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Perhaps even Master Oa'keam wouldn't mind taking you as his disciple."
"Perhaps it is because the wind is very intimate to ," Warden muttered.
"If you say so," he took position again. "Show your version of the Whisper of the Immortal Wind."
"I'm not calling it that," Warden mumbled but prepared by calling upon his Intent. He drew in the pattern and supplied the wind with his intent.
Finally, when he had enough montum, he moved in a sinuous form to sweep his spear.
Karim faced the attack head-on, attacking with his move as well. Needless to say, Warden hadn't made it yet.
"Your comprehension of the pattern is good enough," said the sword master. "However, your Intent is still lacking. It still gives off the vibe that you don't know what you are exactly doing."
Warden tilted his head in confusion. For a large part of his training, he thought the pattern was the problem, yet he was hearing the opposite from Karim.
"Do you know what the essence of an Intent is?" Karim asked. "It is the culmination of what your path is to be. My friend, I don't think you know exactly what your path is."
________
this arc is growing bigger and bigger, Perhaps you guys want a chapter or two from a diff character...
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