Formless

As Gin opened his eyes, he anticipated encountering the enigmatic figure's hut or witnessing the continuation of the dark expanse since it was his first time losing consciousness inside his consciousness?

He was gambling whether he would open his eyes either seeing a dark or run-down house, only to be met with something different.

'Hmmm!?'

A small white room, enough to fit in at least ten people. 

Though he could feel something surging through his body even if he was merely standing still and not doing anything.

'Essence!'

Without further, Gin excitedly assumed a meditation pose and started meditating the moment he sat down.

He never knew this was refreshing. 

'Is this the reason why the figure kept saying this is a personal lair? Well god damn, I sure like this a lot. Hahaha!'

A very plentiful reward. 

During this interval, he sought to replenish his exhausted soul and commenced the reconstruction of his foundation.

The solitary challenge that lingered after unlocking his subconsciousness was the establishment of strong chains to strengthen the link for all the shattered soul to finally become complete.

'This is what I'm talking about!' 

His joy radiated outward, manifesting even in his outward expression. The figure, observing him with vacant eyes, shook its head in response.

The sight of Gin, appearing as though he had shed weight, with parched lips, dark bags under his eyes, and blood trickling from his mouth, was unsettling in itself.

'The shattered souls are repairing on their own…'

As the figure withdrew its hood, a striking visage was unveiled, featuring a flawless jawline and eyes with a subtle slant.

Two horns protruded from his head, adding an air of otherworldly allure, while scattered tattoos adorned his face, imparting an even more masculine and perilous aura.

Though this dangerous Horror didn't harbor ill intention toward Gin as he let out a soft smile.

"Good job."

He left his own hut to leave Gin alone for a few hours, only to realize something.

'Wait, why am I leaving on my own home?'

…

For the next few days, Gin strengthened his knowledge regarding the soul as soul enlightenment came surging inside him.

Gin gleaned a few undisclosed details that the figure had refrained from discussing beforehand. The figure, uncertain whether Gin would comprehend it on the initial attempt, held back certain information, wary of potential repercussions that might lead to some soul deficiency.

It's the same as soul exhaustion yet much worse too.

Having stumbled upon fascinating revelations concerning the nature of the soul, the cloaked figure deemed it necessary to depart, allowing Gin to maintain his focus undisturbed. Recognizing that the deeper Gin delved into enlightenment, the more beneficial it would be for his journey.

'Soul Enlightenment is involved around soul efficiency, diversity, uses, and competence. There are also conjurations. The more someone is enlightened and discovers more things, the better the rewards. Learning subconsciousness brought some hefty rewards. I was like him at my time… sigh,'

And the figure was there to watch his pupil's achievements as if he was watching himself even though he didn't have an undeveloped soul.

He was like when he achieved two create a soul core.

'Hmm, that task is too hard for him at the moment. It's better to hone what he had currently and be patient.'

That's right, the figure already prepared the next regime once Gin was done with his enlightenment.

'Now then, let's wait until he's satisfied. He can still continue discovering more of it later on since I'll give him time too… Yes, let's wait.'

The figure waited patiently, knowing that Gin was nearing completion of his introspection. For Horrors, achieving fundamental enlightenment of the soul signaled the end of their time within their subconsciousness, allowing them to return to their normal lives.

Gin should be no different but…

An hour already passed and Gin remained in the usual meditation stance.

"He'll be out any second now."

The figure nodded once, though veins began to bulge on his forehead, signaling a growing sense of irritation despite his attempts to maintain composure.

When a one-minute mark hit up, the figure stood up and smacked the back of Gin's head.

"Wake up, you hungry bastard!"

"Ackk—!"

Surprised by the sudden intrusion and disturbance, Gin touched the back of his head and looked up.

"You… you know you can do it later! You didn't exercise for a whole month right because you are busy with this!? Now's the time to keep your engines running! But first…!"

With an abrupt motion, the figure handed over a small table bearing Gin's meal, then erupted in anger, shouting loudly.

"Eat first! And don't you dare try to enter your subconsciousness again! Don't make me break your soul!"

"Ehhh…"

Gin shrugged nonchalantly, his lips moistening in anticipation as he voraciously devoured the food before him, resembling a famished man who had gone days without a meal— an experience he was all too familiar with.

Infuriatingly watching it, the figure hissed, urging himself to do another smack before removing the ideas as he turned around and opened the door of his hut.

"Once you're done, come out."

He left those words once Gin nodded.

…

Completing the meal that had been prepared for the cloaked figure, who had already undertaken considerable effort, I felt a twinge of embarrassment at the generosity he had shown me.

-In return, you'll kill me.

And he only asked one thing in return which would've been entirely different if not for the fact that he was the one who saved me.

I despised every Horror, all except this figure.

'Maybe that didn't mean to kill him but a roundabout way of saying a different thing?'

Ugh, I don't really know.

"Come out there. What are you waiting for?"

Startled by the sudden chill in the figure's voice, I hesitantly approached the door and cautiously swung it open, my eyes widening at the unexpected sight of a vast, empty field stretching before me.

'This wasn't here a few days ago…'

Now transformed into a suitable arena for land exercises and ground training, the field boasted an array of weaponry, some familiar from my training and others entirely new, surpassing anything I had encountered even during my time at the academy.

"I'm sure you could understand what this means."

Nodding once, I let the figure continue.

"First, say to me what weapons you are most adept with?"

It didn't even need much contemplation as I answered without hesitation.

"Daggers. I have a technique where I can conceal it under my sleeves and it didn't affect my movements at all."

The figure tilted his before saying, "Saying it like daggers or dagger wouldn't make any difference. That's still one weapon. As I said, are you confident with weapons other than that?"

What is this now?

"Erm, actually, I considered using daggers since people who have a higher understanding of their weapon of choice are getting harder to beat back in the academy. Before anything else, I used my fists to fight."

"I see," As if understanding, the figure continued, "So aside from daggers and hand-to-hand combat, you are pretty much useless at anything else."

"Simple yes."

"Then forget the usual training of your daggers since from now on, you'll start practicing every weapon right in this very field in this instant!" His voice sounded infuriated, "If it's the other people, I would've given up but since it's you who have the crazy adaptive ability, I guess we can make this right."

Frowning, showing my subtle disagreeing expression, I continued, "Can I raise a question? Why is it important to know a lot of weapons when it's better to focus on one when I'm proficient in it?"

The figure stood upright, holding the blade of his sword with his two hands as he stated, "It will be important in your future."

Well, that doesn't sound so convincing. He might as well say that it would disrupt my initial knowledge about daggers when I started incorporating other forms of weaponry.

I don't actually want that.

I kept listening to whatever this guy ordered or gave but if I saw that it put me at a disadvantage, I might as well disagree.

"I think it's better if—"

"It's important to your future because you will be learning a 'special art' that has been handed down in our generations."

Once something unknown had been said from this figure's mouth, clearly enticing me with his deal, my expression appeared to be wry.

'This bastard…! He knew I would get hooked once he mentioned this 'special arts'. Tsk, unbelievable,'

Coughing with a light tone, I replied, "Will you please tell me how these special arts differentiate from the other instructors with whom I learned so much."

The figure shrugged, "Instead of telling you what it is, it's better to give a demonstration."

'Show me?'

The cloaked figure adjusted the bearing of his sword before swiftly moving through the field as if he were dancing with much fluidity in his movement.

His steps are light as he uses the sword to slash the air with intent to kill, making this dance appear hiding its bare teeth only on the surface.

His sword cut through the wind, making a whistling sound that one can easily determine the deadly attacks through his simple movement alone.

Then he started to get rough as his dances became more ferocious and fearless before he used the tip of the sword to bring another weapon by throwing it gently at the air.

As his sword descended, the figure gently picked up the spear he had chosen next that landed beautifully on his hand before demonstrating another form that was much different when he used the sword.

"This special art is called Formless."

The tip of the spear pierced through the wind, and the air formed an afterimage of the attack before producing a lot of unidentifiable movement.

Not only it was swift, but it was also deadly.

"A special art that didn't rely on its foundation. A special art where the form isn't guaranteed as it is constantly changing and flowing. Because of it, one individual can understand more about their weapons as if they were talking to their weapons."

With nimble movements, he swiftly moved to the other side of the field, picking up an axe and discarding the spear. Clutching the heavy wooden axe in his hand, he executed a series of stances specifically designed for this weapon.

"Since this is called Formless, its growth is based on its user. Only the one who holds Formless can understand their weapons as if this was their own limbs."

As he talked through a hushed voice, his body continued to move.

"Formless is boundless hence it didn't judge the user but the user judged himself. This special art was also used by the ancestor."

The figure continued to dance through the field, showing different kinds of styles on each weapon until all of them were plunged to the ground.

Chak—!

Plunging two daggers down on the ground, which clearly shows superior combat prowess than what I knew, the figure looked at me as his hood revealed the bottom of his lips.

The tip was smirking.

"So?"

He asked.

And my reply?

"Hah!"

Fuck my previous knowledge about everything. Daggers? My skills are a joke. Even his hand-to-hand combat which I'm proud of, was undermining me when he was only performing the bare minimum of the art.

There's no need for more arguments.

I immediately answered.

"I'll learn it."