CHAPTER 39: FINAL TRAINING [1/2]

The chill wind cut across my skin like fine needles as I stood within the open training ground. White mist coiled around the marble floor of the arena, drifting lazily from veined stones beneath my feet.

In front, three enormous serpent sculptures lay before me in a linear formation. Their eyes, dull at first, roared into life with bright, right intensity as crimson runes ran across their surfaces.

I tightened the grip around the hilt of my sword. Today was going to mark my last day of training. The air was heavier, alive with anticipation.

From the rear, Linda and the trio watched speculatively.

"Just a pointer note," Muna muttered from my front. "The snakes are so brutal with their attacks."

"That’s not a pointer," I whispered, alert at the same time.

Then, mist that had coiled beneath my feet converged at one point in the middle of the arena and shot upwards into the air.

In that instance, the crimson light pulsing across the serpentine sculptures intensified, and a low hiss resounded through the field.

With this hiss, it began.

The sculptures first moved with speed, changing their formation within the blink of an eye. One of them now stood out in front, while the other two flanked its sides behind like followers.

Without warning, thousands of spectral blades, each sharp enough to cleave bone, flew towards me in streams of silver.

I drew my sword, stepping lightly into the stance I had consistently mastered within one week.

"Surface Ripple, first form: Solo."

My sword escaped my hand, rose into the air and fell with a steady motion. Before it landed, I dodged the attacks that had approached me — sliding through the marble floor, sidestepping at the last moment, and back flipping at the right time.

The sword, perfectly timed to the rippling of my breath, met the rain of blades with soft deflections.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

All over the arena, the sword swung with rapid precision, creating arcs of silver light that diffused into the air.

Without thinking to resist my own personal actions, I moved on instinct, flying through the path to attract the sword back into my grip.

Now in my hands, I produced a consistent circle of turns, connecting the attacks as each parry flowed into the next as naturally as water found its path through the stone.

For a moment, the attack from the first sculpture stopped, and they reformed their lines.

’The best way to avoid defeat is by not being defeated,’ I thought, and looked up at the opponents before me. ’Even, I’m only trying to defend its attacks.’

The sculpted serpents were the treasures the mages of the Water Duchedom used to train their sword skills. It was known for its blurry and brute attacks during training.

Over the years, mages of Water Duchedom weren’t able to survive during training with this facility, and so, it had not been in use for decades.

’I guess Muna brought it so that you can unleash your anger on me,’ I thought, only to be distracted at the same time.

The atmosphere was still intense with bloodthirsty intent as the second serpent’s eyes flared into action. It flickered, and a new barrage shot from its open mouth.

I shifted my footing, rising to twist my body mid-air backwards as a way of avoiding its attack since I saw it late. Good enough, I was able to avoid getting severely injured by the blades.

Two blades had sliced through my cheek and left arm.

Landing on a safe zone, I ran forward, tracing the pattern across the floor, leaving trails of mist from where I stepped.

"Surface Ripple, second form: Footwork Ladder!" I roared, my movements elevating my stance.

Step by step, I ascended like I was climbing an invisible ladder built upon flowing water. The incoming blades seemed to slow before my eyes, their projectile motion becoming visible enough.

I sidestepped one, turned with another that slashed beneath me, and parried a third, using its own force to strike aside the next.

An applause resounded from outside the arena. To me, my moves were clear and slow, but to my spectators, it might have been a blur of moves. Like that of someone moving as though carried by the wind.

I was about to land on my feet when the third sculpture awoke and moved tentatively. Its body crackled with crimson light as it moved with speed and had made contact with the other two sculptures.

Immediately, unstoppable shards of frost were collectively sent flying across the arena.

I felt my heartbeat steady. Fear and hesitation almost got me, but I encouraged myself.

’Mobix, you have to be fit for tomorrow’s test.’

I already sustained an injury from the attack, as my left arm was blood.

"Deep Current, first form: Continuous Cutting."

With a sharp exhale, I lowered my stance and, with my sword, drew a smooth, unbroken circle through the air. The motion gathered momentum, solidifying into a shield that fed upon itself.

Like a rising and flowing tide, a diagonal and flowing arc, it swung itself into the incoming attack without stopping.

’I need to think of a way to stop these attacks before I get paralyzed before the D-day,’ I thought with eyes closed for just a second.

Once my eyes flickered open, some blades were coming at me. I didn’t parry them this time, but cut through them with a continuous rhythm.

The energy from my sword collided with that of the blades to paint the air with streaks of light.

However, the force sent me sliding until I halted some distance backwards.

"As expected from the ruler of the sea."

"Young Master is so strong."

"Little Lady is so brutal."

"Young Master, please survive."

My spectators uttered, but I kept my mind steady to avoid getting distracted by their concerns.

Without wasting more time, I moved.

"Breath of Calm, second form: Pre-match."

The air seemed to respect my motion as I leaped and landed softly, sending my sword to strike the floor.

A wave of frost energy burst outwards, across the arena, sending the incoming blades and my temporarily formed circular shield to scatter into shards of steel and ice.

Then, without thinking twice, I turned sharply to create a stance that could allow me to make a perfect throw.

With that, I targeted my sword at the sculpture flanking the left of the leading serpent, hoping for better results.

Although I wasn’t able to think straight at the initial moments of this attack, I was able to detect how the flow of attacks came from the sculptures.

They weren’t attacking at the same time, but simultaneously and in turns.

Even though not too sure how true my speculations would be, I thought that stopping the next sculpture from attacking right before its turn would solve the issue and grant me defeat.

And so, my sword shot continuously towards it.

As if my calculations were right, it reached the mouth of the sculpture just as it was about to shoot its own barrage of attacks.

And...