In the morning following my advancent, my parents and I sat down once again to co up with plans to help prepare for the provincial contest. After learning about my intention, we all agreed on a few facets of my training which would bring out the optimum result.
First was getting used to the freshly ford essence threads. Thankfully, they were not actually new threads, or their efficiency would have been only a fraction compared to the older ones. Relics had the capacity to adjust their power according to their wielder. The essence threads within it were all from Mum; needless to say, they were of the ascended rank—sothing beyond my power to wield. Even so, the amount of essence they could handle was vastly greater than my regular threads. However, there was still a consideration for efficiency, and what better way to train it than weaving duels against Mum?
A couple of half-hour sessions for fifteen days would be enough to get into the groove. Which brought us to another facet of my training: crafting.
Having reached Journeyman rank, I had barely touched on advanced artificing. Before the tournant, it was ti to tighten my grasp over it. According to Mum, it was not unusual for so generational talent to turn up for the provincial contest every once in a while.
Yet for most of the days, my crafting training only revolved around designing. Mum introduced a vast number of articles, be it from simple bowls, various ornants, to intricate musical instrunts. Only when I faced a problem did she push to craft them, as that would allow to look at the potential fabricator from different angles.
The only good thing that ca out of the demon incursion was the raw materials they had left behind. Now, the skeletons of common devourers amounted to little, but those of the elite ones were good enough for prestigious-class fabricators after refining, whereas anything from the Ashhound—be it their bones, blood, scales, core, or other magical organs—were the top material for artificing and alchemy. And my parents got the lion's share of the materials, being the pri offenders in stopping the greater demons.
While I practised, Mum had them all refined and stocked into the workshop. It could not have been any more cramd—so much so that Mum had donated many of the materials to help rebuild the town. The Empire did allocate a sum to assist the reconstruction, but that amount was asly compared to what the people had lost.
One evening, I caught Mum dabbling in a design of her own, having the Dawn essence core set on the table. She was too invested in the design to notice coming.
"Is that for the new artefact?" I asked, peeking at the stacks of parchnts filled with intricate designs.
Mum did not answer imdiately. She glanced between and the papers, considering. "Can't make up my mind on one," she said. "Look for yourself. Tell if you fancy any of them."
I took hold of a few of the designs, though my eyes darted to the marble brimming with dawn essence. Despite more than half of its essence threads being lost, she had restored it to the best of her ability—enough to make it the heart of the artefact.
"Mum," I said tentatively, "I don't think I need another artefact right away."
"You do, sweetheart. Thinking of the wound you got from the corpse fly, I cannot, for the life of , leave you unprotected against sothing like that again."
"But I have [Vigil of Protection]," I countered.
"You do, but it cannot heal you, can it?"
But there wouldn't be any need for healing if nothing could break through its defence. I did not say that aloud, thinking of what had happened against the corpse flies.
"If you're making a healing artefact," I said instead, "I think Father needs it more than ."
That stopped her for a mont, but she soon shook her head. "Dawn essence cannot help with the wound he's gotten."
"But it will help with all the wounds he'll get." I crept near her, waking [Vigil of Protection] on my wrist. "Mum, I'm not going to throw myself at demons at the next chance I get." I showed her the gleaming relic. "The bracelet will protect forever."
She stared at , a voluntary sigh escaping her lips. "I didn't think you could convince ."
I didn't either, at least not with so few words. I was prepared to go further, but I guessed she saw the reason.
"So what do you think will suit Father?"
Mum considered the stacks of designs. "It's not all about suiting," she said. "If it were, I'd have half my job complete. We need to co up with sothing small that will stay out of the way of his aura; else, even with an artefact's durability, it would not last long."
"So sothing like my bracelet."
Mum agreed. "But not sothing to place on the wrist."
That was evident, with most of Father's aura being charged from his arms. "A pendant, perhaps," I said, "or earrings."
"Earrings will be difficult with their tiny form factor."
"But not impossible."
"Very few things are, Pumpkin," Mum said, tousling my hair. "Most tis, it's only a matter of convenience. Regardless, the dawn seed still needs so rare ingredients for it to function properly, even if I can sort out an alchemist quickly."
Apparently, most essence seeds lost their connection to the Aether once the awakened died, and that had been the case with the one the Legatus offered us. To repair the link, an alchemist needed to garnish it with so extrely rare materials—things that were not usually up for sale in stores.
"Let's keep it all a secret from your Father until then."
She stole the words right out of my mouth. It would be another debacle convincing him to have the dawn seed, as I was quite sure he'd be adamant about either or Mum having it.
Anyway, onto the final portion of my preparation: combat practice.
Father helped in all the ways he could, but there was no way I could surmount him in a duel. Thus, I returned to battle soone of my class. Delric had been my usual sparring partner before and had helped a lot in refining my swordsmanship. However, I had another interest in battling him beyond further improving myself. Delric had participated in the provincial tournant a couple of years ago. Of course, he did not win it, but he had gotten to the final round—into the top eight—from where he earned his chance to squire under a knight.
Yes, it did not pan out, but none could spit at his accomplishnt. It was almost unheard of that soone without any support, and from an unknown town, had gotten as far as he did.
I had never been able to defeat him before, but a lot of things had changed since then. For starters, I had also reached Noble class. True, he was still a few steps beyond on the path, but I had advantages he never had.
We stood facing each other in the familiar field, obscured by the shifting mist, divided only by twenty paces. A dozen sword strings pointed from his sword. Half of them were defensive, waiting for to make a move. The other half targeted many of my organs. They shifted and readjusted as I deviated from my usual form.
"Are they going to stare at one another all day?" Prium complained.
"Shh." Eran pressed his finger to his lips. His father stood behind him, flanked by my own. They stood in silence, eyes observing intently. Only they could glimpse the invisible contest between Delric and .
It had been a minute or so since our duel had begun, and since then neither of us had made a move yet. Well, at least not a genuine one. Both our sword senses were clashing against each other from the beginning, shifting and adjusting to each other's forms. But that was all within sword sense. Although the sensory ability was great, it could not predict victory, not where we were at.
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I struck first. I began slow, without activating my boots or any other abilities. Even so, my body sprang forward, and the sword in my right hand ca down in a swift and crashing blow. Delric parried it with ease and made a move of his own. My blade fell to defend. Mist swirled about our blades as they t half a dozen tis in a quick exchange before both of us withdrew a few steps.
Our sword senses barely acclimatised before we lunged at each other again, swords falling into the sa moves, each trying to outdo the other. Delric concentrated on his area of attack. From dozens of options, he opened himself to a re three or four.
At first, we were evenly matched. On multiple occasions, our sword senses cut at each other before our blades crashed, echoing tallic clangs through the drifting mist. Neither of us managed to earn a point—not for lack of trying, however. Yes, I was tentative at first, asuring him, and to my surprise, Delric was doing the sa. However, once the caution wore off, my sparring partner thrust at full force.
I had no choice but to use the levitation boots. It was unfair that Delric did not have access to such fabricators, but he had also taken more steps along the path—only a couple away from reaching Prestigious class. There was hardly a way to make the duel fair.
Delric's speed and aura rose to match my pace. In quick succession, we both earned a couple of points. He sohow managed to break through my defence to strike at my right shoulder, whereas I landed a blow on his lower body. I was chancing a returning slash when a sword string dyed red pointed towards my torso. It shifted so more, locking onto my heart.
Haste flared from the rune imprint I had saved up in my pri seed. Before an eye could blink, I ducked under the blade that followed the dyed string. Delric had invested his hundred per cent in that swing. Once his sword failed to strike true, he was wide open. Before I could decide on the move, my foot moved on its own, shifting into the third stance of Whispering Gale. A blade ca with a gashing wind, striking low to high, straight across his chest.
"Three points to Arilyn," Uncle Dalin called.
5–2, then.
Since I had already begun showing my cards, there was no point hiding them anymore. I shot forward, the haste in my boots and the rune imprint on my body allowing to move several tis faster than my usual speed. Delric's eyes narrowed as he quickly shifted to Walking Mountain. He managed to parry the first strike. He blocked the second. Then I appeared behind him before his eyes could track . His sword sense perhaps could, but his body failed to defend against the blade from striking his back.
Two more points—but there were more to be earned.
Delric was thrown off, though not injured at all. We were allowed to empower our bodies with aura, but not imbue aura into our weapons. Even so, the blades were sharper than any common sword you could find and could penetrate flimsy aura defences with ease. Thankfully, Delric's aura mastery was enough to obstruct a full strike, despite being flung away. I chased after him, striking fast and true, gaining another point, bringing the tally to 8–2 in my favour.
All that short exchange barely cost two series of Haste runes. A cheap price, to be honest.
Finally, Delric seed to wake up and made his move. The way I was going, he knew he could not win if he only defended. In all our battles before, he had been the one to hold the reins; however, here I had overthrown that hierarchy completely. If Delric could not take back the reins, he was defeated already.
For the next few exchanges, he tried to wear down. He knew I'd run out of rune imprints, and my stamina could not compare to his. His sword plunged at a berserk pace, his body moving erratically. It was almost akin to Father when he was fighting the Ashhounds. Even though he could only imitate the force of nature my father way, I had to put my everything to dodge and parry his sword as he led backwards. It did not take him long to find a weakness in my defence. Striking once, Delric was ready to press further, seemingly having forgotten about my most powerful weapon.
My essence flared in an explosion of wind, flinging him off. His sword sense cried in alarm, but there was no escape as the wind rose from all directions.
"So you are using shaping, then," he said, eyes locked onto mine.
"I never said I wouldn't."
After all, this was preparation for the provincial tournant. I would have to use everything in my arsenal to fight against those who outstripped in raw power. Father was adamant about having develop a style of my own that gathered all the facets of my abilities—be it shaping, runes, aura, or swordsmanship. It might not sound like much, but in the heat of battle, when I only had a fraction of a mont to decide the optimum solution among a multitude of options, my default approach was to go for all four at once.
I had quite a sharp battle instinct despite still being inexperienced, but that was mostly when I was dealing with one thing. Fill with four, and you'd have a clusterfuck of inefficiency.
The Arnean swordsmanship had been drilled well into my muscle mory. However, I did not have much experience with my essence or aura. The psyche could be trained in a similar way to muscle mory, where my aura or essence acted on its own at particular cues. So far, it only reacted to mortal threats. Even then, it was awful—almost as instinctive and useless as closing my eyelids involuntarily when soone ca swinging his fist at my face.
Now I could keep my eyes open forever, but I had been told training the psyche was a lot harder than that, more so with aura. Auric force could be wilder than essence. Essence was a borrowed power from the spiritual realm, whereas aura was a part of . So, despite having access to essence for a longer ti, if my life was at stake, my aura would flare first every ti. While that sounded good and all, that burst of aura was hardly ever concentrated. It might defend against flimsy attacks, but I was a corpse against a skilled opponent.
Sword forging helped with that. It trained my psyche to act according to a razor's edge. [Vigil of Protection] could defend at all tis, but that would only count in real battles. The provincial tournant had a multitude of rules and regulations to account for relics. I had barely wrapped my head around them and had learned that they were all subject to change.
The only way to rise above them was to have no weakness.
Delric was resilient, all right. Although his gift was not anything marvellous, it gave him unmatched stamina on top of his already superior physical attributes. He could try to wear away all he wanted, but there was no way I was giving him easy points today.
With my shaping, I kept his sword sense distracted most of the ti. Once his sword sense beca obsolete, I made my moves, impressing with the Sword Unities, where the blade fell as swift as wind in one move and cut like water in the next. With all the distractions, I managed to hide my true intention with the blade and feinted to make a move on Delric's back once again. He had a particular weakness there—if I moved low and swiftly, Delric could not bring himself into position in ti to defend.
Gaining the upper hand, I did not hesitate. I dealt two quick slashes, biting into his aura enforcent.
To Delric, it was as though he were fighting against an Awakened who was both a shaper and an augnter. Coupled with the trouble he'd been having with his swordsmanship these days, he did not stand a chance.
He did manage to exhaust all my rune imprints, but by then the duel was in its final stage, and he was trailing behind by five points.
Frustrated, Delric poured everything he had into making a quick coback. He earned a point, slashing at my thigh. Unfortunately for him, that also pushed him into a trap I had set for him. The result did not disappoint .
[Way of Sword Sense I (100/100) is complete.]
[ 2 Enhanced Aura.]
[Way of Sword Sense II (100/250) is available.]
"I thought the battle would be more challenging," Prium muttered.
Truth be told, I had thought so as well. The duel ended twelve to seven in my favour. Before my advancent, that tally had usually been the sa—but in Delric's favour. It was quite an improvent, perhaps even alarming to my opponent, as evident by Delric's defeated posture.
Of course, I was delighted to win for the first ti, but the duel also let see the areas I could improve upon. It reminded of the phrase that an elite shaper was equal to a group of augnters. I guessed I was beginning to see the truth in it, despite not using much of my shaping capabilities.
My friends congratulated while I snuck a glance at Delric. He had his shoulders slumped, jaw clenching and unclenching as he gazed up at his shaking palm.
Then he smiled towards . "I guess a trophy is due."
"There's still so way to go," I mumbled.
Delric nodded. "You have changed your approach to battle," he said. "Before, you were more ticulous, watching for errors in your opponent's moves to capitalise on them. But now you are pushing to make the wrong choices. And Solas help , I made so many of them in this duel."
Well, I did make a conscious choice, though I wouldn't say it was a complete one-eighty to my approach. Before, I did wait for my opponents to make a mistake, but that was because they were far stronger than I was. And I was training my sword sense.
"I would have chanced a rematch, but I have to get ho and prepare," Delric said. "Tullia will kill if I co to the ceremony looking like a bum. Save a date for another day."
"Anyti," I replied, then finally turned to Father. "How did I do?"
"As well as I thought you would," he said.
I blinked. That sounded like praise? Well, considering even I did not think I'd get a win with such a gulf between our scores. That did not an I had thoroughly overpowered Delric—he had his fair shots at a few tis.
"You know, in a real fight," Father said, "it won't be quite like this."
"I know." In a real fight, we would not watch out for each other. There were multiple chances in the duel where we could have wounded one another, and in a real conflict, the one wounded first was usually the one defeated as well.
"I don't think you quite do," Father laughed. "In a real battle, you'll kill twice over, and Delric still would find a way to penetrate [Vigil of Protection]."
I blinked. That thought had not surfaced in my mind at all.
"And you also hadn't cast any powerful shaping at all."
That was sothing I had thought about and had voluntarily restricted myself to using only as a last resort. Because a full-powered wind blade or fire arrow could wound Delric severely, despite his Uncommon Constitution and aura defence. Whereas he would not fare any better than the devourers against a fire harpoon.
"I have too many advantages over him," I sighed.
"Then let's fight against soone you have no advantage over," Father grinned.
I snorted, though I did not waste a mont before hurtling at him. Finally, finishing the session with sword forging, I turned towards our bath with Eran for relaxing body forging.
Eran had drunk an essence tonic a couple of days ago and now stood at the fifth step of Common class. His swordsmanship had also improved remarkably, but alas, his actual power had not developed enough yet for him to have a real shot at the tournant. Thankfully, there was still next year for him, and even for , if I sohow floundered there.
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