Chapter 48: Concept of a True Swordsman
The Spell’s voice echoed in my ears before the referee’s triumphant call.
[Way of Aura Resonance: Weight I (2/100) is available.]
I perked an eyebrow at that. Surely, it seemed Delric was not wrong. Pouring your anger into your aura did have an effect.
I had been trying to grasp the resonance of Weight for weeks on end. Although most of my time had been spent refining the resonance of Penetration and Sharpness, it was quite a delightful surprise that it came this way. The only worrying part was the astronomical aura I burned away in my fury.
Exhaling softly, I waited for the referee to call it in. Regrettably, the referee himself seemed to be just as shell-shocked as the unconscious girl lying at my feet. He eyed me, gulped, turned to the crumpled vestige of the girl, and then finally announced, “Victory goes to number 188.”
There came a round of raucous cheer and applause. Duly raising my arm, I strode out, deliberately not paying a last glance to my defeated opponent—perhaps fearing a feeling of pity would arise in my heart. I might have gone needlessly hard on her, not only destroying her armament but also her hopes, essentially humiliating her. But before any thought of sympathy reared its head, I squashed it and made my way towards the antechamber.
All of this she had brought upon herself. So what if I had to reveal some of my power a duel or two early? If given the chance again, I did not believe I would do anything differently. Perhaps I would try to have more rein on my nerves, but the anger that bubbled up in my chest was not to be quenched without a proper lesson.
The only thing to worry about now was the overexpenditure of my aura. There was still another bout to be fought, and I had already strained my aura to teach her a lesson. But in my abdomen, my essence was thrumming, rising, finally getting a chance to be let out. Now that I did not have to hide it, what was there to worry about?
Perhaps someone with keen eyes could detect that I was a Shaper too, but they would not know how many elements I was capable of weaving or my mastery over them. Then there was Rune Imprint, likely my biggest trump card. And now that I had learned Aura Resonance of Weight, I was one step closer to true swordsmanship.
On my way, my eyes darted towards the stand where my family and friends were, a little worried about what they might think of my demonstration. With my perception, it would not be too difficult to catch Mum’s disapproving visage, but I was surprised to find two fresh, familiar faces near her—my aunts. Noticing my gaze, Rosalyn gave me a big thumbs-up, whereas Aunt Emi was more reserved; she waved with a smile.
I laughed, feeling a little lighter as I entered the resting dugout. I noted Cassius and his friend Kelvin shooting glances in my direction as I returned, but I was in no mood to converse with them, and neither seemed to be.
“So, what do you think my chances of victory against him are?” I heard Kelvin ask.
“Well, you would need to wear a set of armour,” Cassius returned, contemplating, “one warded against telekinesis.”
My second duel would likely commence once all the top sixty-four participants had a bout. This gave sufficient time for my aura to recover, as well as time to reflect on the duel I had just fought. For all its glory, it had gone easier than I had anticipated once I unleashed my full power. Well, if I took into account my opponent’s dwindling Will, it was hardly a surprise. Even if she had been brimming with it, I would still believe I would outshine her in a battle of Will, simply by virtue of all my Honours.
That was to say, if my control had even lapsed for a moment and unleashed the power without restraint when I was wrecking her armament, I could have ended her there without even realising it. Thankfully, that had not come to pass, though it still left me much to reflect upon.
It was something my father had taught me. Victory or defeat would mean much more if I could learn from it. In his words, even simply recognising the changes unfurling in my mind during such a battle was priceless. The path of the sword was as much physical as it was a cultivation of mind and spirit.
As I sank into meditation, I noticed more gazes upon me. I found Melina Merriwind sneaking glances. She averted her gaze when our eyes met. Beside her was Leaf, who waved, showed his teeth in an iconic grin, before disappearing. There were many other unfamiliar faces, with unkind expressions, finally recognising me as their competitor.
It took about half an hour for me to regain serenity. I asked one of the standby referees about my next bout against Kevin and learned that it would unfold after the lunch break. There were close to three hours I had to myself with nothing else to do.
So, I decided to exit the chamber and meet up with my family. It had not been long since I had seen my aunts, but their presence brought great elation, especially Aunt Emi, whom I did not get to meet much.
“That’s a great duel,” Rose said as soon as I reached them. “My teaching has not led you wrong.”
I returned her grin, then, ignoring her completely, I headed towards Aunt Emi.
“Perhaps a little heavy-handed,” she said, pulling me into a hug, “but that was a masterful display of finesse and power.”
“I thought you were going to save your shaping for the tougher battles,” Mum said, arching an eyebrow.
I could only smile sheepishly.
“What happened?” she asked, sounding a little more serious.
“I was angry,” I said.
“At what she said? You do recognise that was to get a rise out of you?”
“Of course I do!” My voice rose. I breathed in and out to calm myself. “I knew what she was going for, but that did not give her the right to say those nasty things.”
Mum only shook her head in disapproval, though she did not press further. On the other hand, Father showed his full support with a reassuring nod.
“Well, this didn’t come without a reward,” I said, turning towards him. “Father, I finally awakened the resonance of Weight.”
He arched an eyebrow, his lips curling up. “And you think I didn’t notice?”
“Well, that was stupid of me,” I muttered, flopping down on the seat next to him. Mum and Aunt Emi sat on his other side, with Rosalyn seated behind me.
“It may have come as a surprise to you, but I anticipated that one of these days you would get it.”
I shot him a quizzical glance, waiting for him to explain.
“Aura is essentially the spiritual representation of your whole being. When it reaches a certain threshold, it begins to pose a physical weight as well as a spiritual one. Of course, one can awaken it before meeting the threshold, but that usually requires some special circumstances.”
I nodded, understanding dawning on me. “So mine is nothing special.”
“You just have too much aura, and it leaked with your anger.”
That did not sound ingenious at all.
“Don’t use that in your next battle,” Father recommended. “An unconcentrated, unmastered resonance of Weight burns more of your aura than any other resonance combined. Thankfully, although it is one of the resonances one awakens late, it is much easier to master. You have probably seen it before. Despite crude aura control, many awakened seem to find it easy to flaunt their weight around.”
Hearing that, the first example that came to mind was Magnus Daenerys and the Tribune. Both of them had tried to use it in my presence on the very first encounter and had got the wrong end of the stick with Mum. Worse for the Tribune, since not only did he lack the power, but he even tried to imbue coercion into it.
“I’ll give you a few starter practices in the evening, once we get back from here.”
I agreed and finally posed the question that had been biting at my tongue. “So, I’ve awakened Weight, Sharpness, Oscillation, and Penetration. Doesn’t that mean I only need Swiftness to make it to a true swordsman?”
Father shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I know true swordsmen who reached the milestone on the merit of the resonance of Sharpness alone. And I have even met people who have trained in Sharpness, Weight, Swiftness, Penetration, and even some other obscure resonances, and yet still could not establish themselves as true swordsmen.”
A line formed between my brows. As Father began to explain, only Eran and I paid attention, while the rest talked among themselves.
Father hesitated for a moment. “What you need, son, is not the number of aura resonances. Though they do help in various situations, what you lack is the concept your sword should be forged upon.”
“A concept, like what?”
“Well, it is hard to explain in words,” Father said, scratching his head. “It can be the conviction you train your swordsmanship with, something that should be reflected in your blade as well. At least, that had been the case with mine.”
“What is your concept then?” I asked, more than just curious.
Again, he hesitated for reasons only he was privy to. “When I made it, I had similar resonances to yours. Except for Oscillation, I had a good grasp of Sharpness, Swiftness, Penetration, and Weight. It is most likely due to practising the same sword art, which was built upon the very essence of these five resonances. Regardless, I achieved harmony by combining all their forms into a concept called Inexorable Razor’s Edge. Essentially, the conviction of my sword was an indomitable cutting force.”
Inexorable Razor’s Edge. That sounded far more marvellous than Sky Piercer. He could have named his blade after that.
“Now, you might be wondering why I haven’t told you all this before. That is so that you do not get ideas about adopting a concept similar to mine and instead find your own way.”
Sceptical, I could not help but ask, “Is it even possible to become a true swordsman by copying someone else’s sword?”
“It is. And with your talent and aura, I could mould you into a true swordsman in a couple of weeks.”
“Then why haven’t you already?” There had to be a catch.
“Because it might not be your path,” Father said with utmost gravity. “Although my Inexplorable Razor’s Edge is powerful with overwhelming cutting force, if it does not resonate with you, it will stifle your swordsmanship and leave you a half-formed true swordsman with no hope of progressing any further. Usually, forcing a concept upon even the brightest of prodigies ends like that.
You remember Arata, the centurion who came into Karmel? His talent in swordsmanship was perhaps even greater than mine. Unfortunately, the house he belonged to forced upon him a style that did not suit him, and to this day, he is still struggling to find a way to reach the realm of Master Swordsman.”
“What about my father?” Eran asked, sneaking a glance towards Uncle Dalin, who perked up at the mention.
“I was obviously not as spectacular as Master Jinn,” Uncle Dalin said humbly. “I made it to true swordsman with the resonances of Sharpness and Weight, forming the concept of Unwavering Resolve.”
That too sounded sublime, though for the name of his soulblade, Uncle Dalin had chosen something in the same vein as Father: Stormcleaver, being the spiritual student of his. That got me thinking about all the names in my mind. I would be a liar if I said there were no outrageous names in my mind, though my thoughts were wavering towards something more poetic.
“Having only two resonances to form your soulblade does not make you lesser than me,” Father said to Uncle Dalin. “After all, you have also learned the resonance of Swiftness and Penetration later on. Once you manage to fuse them together, your swordsmanship will be even more remarkable.”
“What about the sword art?” I asked. “Does it affect what concept a swordsman forms?”
“It can influence it.” Father tilted his head, contemplating. “But a concept is much more innate than a sword art. Two people practising the same art can form two contrasting concepts. The Arnian Sword Art was created to fight demons, so the concepts borne out of it tend to gear towards that.
“Inevitably, it is related to the swordsman’s heart,” Father continued. “In my younger days, I was belligerently ambitious. I would not have been satisfied with a concept with weaker fighting capabilities—probably why it took more resonances than others to form my soulblade.”
“Then, considering Ari,” Eran snickered, “he will probably need half a dozen more resonances before making it, no?”
I snorted at him. There were barely half a dozen resonances that aligned with a sword.
“You did make a worrying point,” Father said, joining in the laughter. He then patted me on the shoulder. “Joking aside, I would not want you to worry too much about it. Both of you. Despite your mastery over the blade, you are still lacking in experience. You might make it tomorrow, or it might take years. What matters more is continuing your practice diligently.”
For the remainder of the time, I mostly rested, rejuvenating my aura for the battle to come. Although I did show off my powers against the Daenerys girl, I still planned on forging my blade. The duel had proven that I grew far faster through combat than through training alone.
I spent close to two hours in silent meditation—not in complete thoughtlessness, but reimagining my matches, my bout against Marie Eole Daenerys, and visualising my swordsmanship practice.
Then, finally, I had my lunch and waited for my name to be announced for the second and final duel of the day.
Considering the match-up, it could help me refine my swordsmanship further.
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A/N: I already know what Arilyn's sword will be named, comes with the Author privilege, lol. After Sunbreak, it might be the title of Book Two or Three.