CHAPTER 71: THE SPEAR THAT NEVER ERRS (2).

Nero tried again. A series of practiced movements that should have been smooth.

Instead, his form was sent all over the place and he lost balance.

He planted the spear in the ground and stepped back, scowling.

Why did it feel so wrong?

It was clear something was off here.

He picked up Gungnir again and closed his eyes.

This time, instead of forcing the movement, hetrued to envision the soul of the weapon. Why did it resist those movements?

What was its true nature? How could he achieve resonance?

He shifted his stance, adjusted his grip and moved slowly through the basic form.

The spear’s weight began to fluctuate.

It was not subtle as well. Some times, it felt heavier than all the burdens he had to bear. At other times, it was as light as a feather.

Nero froze.

’It’s like it has a mind of its own.’

Nero let out a breath.

’This is going to take time.’

He spent the next hour drilling back the basics into his body— Thrusts, sweeps, blocks and parries...

His movements were clumsy, fighting against the weapon’s strangely fluctuating weight.

By the time the sun climbed higher in the sky, his arms ached. His Ein Sof reserves had been almost depleted from the repeated use of the enchantment.

However, he was starting to understand Gungnir.

It wasn’t a mere weapon. It was a tool that demanded respect. Demanded precision and accurate control of both his energy and his body.

He would not be able to handle the weapon by half-assing it.

And he was nowhere close to mastering it.

Nero planted the spear in the ground and sat down heavily on a piece of rubble. He wiped sweat from his brow, staring out at the ruined settlement.

The journey to Malady’s Garden would be dangerous. More dangerous than anything he’d faced so far, if the Oracle’s warnings were accurate.

He glanced at Gungnir, then at the Silver Blade sheathed at his side.

’I need more time.’

The thought crystallized as he looked around the desolate land. The place was a graveyard, yes. But it was also safe, in a way. It was isolated from both Malady’s Garden and the Purple Evergrowth forest.

Now that the Demons were dead, the immediate threats were gone.

He could stay here. To train and master Gungnir properly before moving forward.

Nero rose to his feet, decision made.

’I’ll stay. A week. Maybe two.’

Long enough to understand the spear. Long enough to let Vineheart fully assimilate into his body. Long enough to prepare for whatever he would be facing next.

He pulled Gungnir from the ground and rested it across his shoulders.

This ruined settlement would be his training ground.

And when he was ready, he would continue forward to Malady’s Garden.

He huffed deeply.

The noon sunlight washed over his face.

His expression fell as his stomach grumbled,

"I’m hungry."

***

At the border that severated the lush verdant land nestled right between the Purple Evergrowth and Malady’s garden, several small creatures roamed.

These creatures, due to their short life spans and weaker constitutions, weren’t as susceptible to the corruption. And so, compared to other Abominations, their genetic mutations were grossly underwhelming and tame.

However, what they did possess in general, was impressive rates of procreation.

A small, furry beast with large hind legs and a horn on its temple dug its face into the guts of an even smaller beast. Blood dropped onto the dark grass as it savored itself meal.

The sound of the air splitting overhead caused its large ears to twitch as it shit to attention.

In the next moment, its body smashed into the ground, completely skewered through by a long spear.

It twitched as the final signs of life within it faded away into the nothingness.

Its eyes became dark and its gaze hollow.

The sound of footsteps filled the area moment later as Nero walked up the the corpse of his hunt.

Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he let out a sigh of relief.

He had been hunting for a few hours now and had not been able to hit anything.

Contrary to his initial beliefs, the mechanisms of Gungnir were slightly more complicated than he had expected.

While the ability, Unwavering did make use of his energy, it did so in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Its stability was entirely dependent on his control over his own energy.

Ein Sof, the boundless energy that existed within everything and anything, all at once existed within him in a rather peculiar form.

It was like an endless river flowing within a restricted channel. A loop flowing within itself.

The energy was contained within the river, and as his reserves grew, the size of the channel grew as well to contain it.

However for the most part, the flow of the energy was not stable. It was turbulent, unsteady and without reigns.

Gungnir had tied itself to the nature of this river of Ein Sof in his body.

If his control was not stable, then the flight path of the spear would be affected as well.

As thus, he had spent the entire afternoon trying to figure out how to stabilize his energy.

The Oracle’s unfeeling voice swam into his ears,

***

{Rejoice, Heretic. You have slain a Horned Coney}

Seals of Sin: 131/1000.

***

Picking the corpse of the Abomination off the ground, he tried to recall the feeling.

At the time, it had been incredibly illusive. But, he knew it tied back to his ability to envision.

The flow of the river of energy within him was in a sense, bound and limited by his imagination.

Of course, that was not the only factor. However, something told him it was a rather considerable one.

But when considering that, he could only ask himself;

’What in the seven Hells does that even mean?!’

It didn’t make sense. Why would something as important and delicate as the energy within him be determined by something as arbitrary as his imagination.

Suddenly, he paused.

"No... I’m thinking about it all wrong."