A Thundering Essence 4

The Centurion raises his sword in a silent challenge, and I waste no time stepping forward, my own blade raised. No hesitation.

His first swing is a horizontal slash, fast and powerful, aiming for my midsection. I pivot sharply, the blade just missing my torso. The second strike follows immediately: a downward slash aimed to crush me.

I raise my sword in defense, meeting his stone blade with a resounding clang. The impact reverberates through my arms, but I hold firm.

Another strike. A sweeping slash. I parry, and though I barely keep my balance, I start to see it. His rhythm, his movements—there's a pattern. He favors brute strength, overwhelming force. If I can avoid direct clashes, I might stand a chance.

The Centurion presses forward, relentless. He thrusts, the tip of his sword cutting through the air, straight for my chest.

I sidestep, my instincts kicking in, my body already adjusting. I spin to the side, and for the first time, I strike back. My blade arcs toward his exposed side, but he shifts, blocking my strike easily.

Not fast enough. I need more precision.

He counters instantly, driving me back with a flurry of slashes. I parry and deflect, each blow feeling heavier, but my senses sharpen. His stance—too wide after a thrust. His grip is loose when he swings from overhead. Little details I wouldn't have noticed minutes ago start to come into focus.

The Centurion spins, his sword cutting a deadly arc toward my head. I duck just in time, rolling to the side and coming back up with a low slash aimed at his legs.

The blade scrapes across his stone form, but it barely leaves a mark. His sword descends again, and I raise my blade just in time, the force sending me stumbling back.

Breathe. Watch. React.

I see his next strike coming, a diagonal slash from high right. This time, I don't meet it head-on. I step in, bringing my sword up at an angle to deflect. Metal grates against stone, and I shift my weight, pushing his blade off course.

His stance falters, just slightly. I take advantage, stepping inside his guard and aiming a quick strike at his midsection. The blade connects, chipping away a small piece of stone.

The Centurion pauses for a fraction of a second, acknowledging the hit, then resumes the assault.

His sword moves faster now, a barrage of precise, lethal strikes. I barely have time to think, just react. My body moves on instinct, deflecting, dodging, countering. Every strike teaches me something new. His footwork shifts before each swing. His shoulders tense just before he commits to an attack.

I block a powerful overhead slash, and for a brief moment, I feel the balance of his weight shift forward. It's subtle, but I act on it. I sidestep, letting his momentum carry him forward, and I bring my blade down hard on his exposed back.

A crack forms along his stone armor.

He spins, faster than I expect, and his blade is already arcing toward my head. I throw myself backward, the tip of his sword grazing past my face, close enough to feel the wind from its swing. I roll back to my feet, my breathing hard, but my focus sharp.

Each second, I'm learning. Each clash brings me closer to matching him.

The Centurion raises his sword for a thrust, and I see it: he shifts his weight onto his back foot. I move first, stepping inside his reach and driving my sword into the exposed joint of his arm. The blade bites deep, and he grunts, his arm faltering for the first time.

I pull back, not giving him time to recover. I swing again, this time at his legs, aiming for the same spot. His sword comes up to block, but I twist at the last second, redirecting my strike toward his side. A second crack splits his armor.

For the first time, the Centurion takes a step back.

I press the advantage, swinging with more precision now. My strikes are faster, aimed at the weak points I've learned to see. He deflects most of them, but each time I chip away a little more. His movements, though still strong, begin to slow.

I feint left, his sword rises to block, but I pivot right, slashing at his leg. The crack deepens. Another strike, and his leg gives way, forcing him to kneel. Before he can recover, I bring my blade down in a final, heavy blow.

The Centurion's sword shatters. He kneels, still holding his hilt, his glowing blue eyes dimming slightly as he acknowledges my victory.

I lower my sword, panting. My body aches, but my mind races with new understanding. Each clash, each strike taught me more than hours of thought ever could.

The Centurions are good at fighting, but they are crude. They are new creations, like me. While he did instill some combat techniques in them, they are very basic.

"I'm surprised you didn't destroy him. Why did you not use your powers?" Gaia asks as she walks over.

Taking a breath, I stand up straight and stare into her eyes. "There's no need to. They were created to guard me, and I shall not repay their duty with death."

A small smirk appears on her face as her statue-like figure bends, scraping against itself.

"But they are not real. They hold no soul. Why do you care?"

"Sentimental value? They are the only ones I can communicate with, other than you. But between you and me, these guys aren't great conversationalists." The primordial places a hand in my hair, rubbing out some of the dust and dirt.

"I hope you understand that out there, outside this room, there will be no practice rounds. No second chances." There's grief in her tone.

"I know."

"What will you do to them? The Titans?" A seemingly innocent question, but it carries more weight than I care to bear.

"That depends on them. I am fully willing to keep them above ground as long as they don't stop what I need to do. I shall not lie: some will die. Others may be severely injured or punished. But I seek vengeance on your children—only on Kronos." My answer seems to somewhat satisfy her, though I can still feel the weight of ages on her form.

"That's the best outcome I can expect. I will not be too self-centered not to understand that war is inevitable. But, on a lighter note, you seem to be improving well—faster than even I anticipated. What's your secret, Zeus?" Placing my sword down, I form a thinking expression.

"Push-ups, sit-ups, and plenty of juice… or milk, in this case." At that moment, Gaia groans in frustration.

"You are one of the greatest fools I've ever met. The most vexing part is, I can tell you aren't lying. But I am surprised by one thing."

With a slightly intrigued expression, I ask the one question on my mind. "You're wondering why I never asked to go above ground, I assume?" Gaia stands, looking at me as if expecting a violent retort.

"I long to see the sun as much as any being, but I am not so impatient as to ignore the need for subtlety. While I would love to appear above ground and throw lightning bolts, I need time. I also have to find somewhere to hide my siblings, as I assume you won't allow me access to this realm once I leave." The primordial mother looks almost taken aback in surprise.

"When did you become insightful?" My brow twitches slightly in annoyance. I'm not an idiot—at least, not most of the time. Even with an inspired inventor's mind, I can still be a dumbass if I want to be.

"I was quite literally built different." At that exact moment, I feel my face hit the floor as Gaia slams me into the ground.

"Love you too, Grandmother." My muffled response isn't heard, as she's already gone by the time I look up.

Though I'm slightly miffed that I was struck, I don't really feel anything from it, so I can tell she didn't use any power in it.

Taking a seat on my rock bed, I refocus and feel the charges in my soul. Since I increased the daily charge gain, I now gain three charges for Power Manipulation and Inspired Inventor every day.

Honestly, I'm slightly happy I have these powers. They make it easier to track the passage of time. I walk over to the side of the cave, focusing my power on the rock and heating it up. The rock falls apart into sand, and the sand turns to glass.

Looking at my reflection, I'm glad that, at least in this life, I look decent. I wasn't much of a looker in my old life.

I wonder if I should grow a beard or a mustache—or maybe both. Something to consider for the future.

For now, I need focus. I need to be in tune with my body. Shaper is definitely helping, allowing me to make every bodily function as efficient as possible. But I need something to complement it.

As I continue staring at my reflection, I focus on Inspired Inventor, and since a day has passed, I use all three charges to unlock something that will help: Prana Bindu.

As I send all three charges, I am filled with visions of people fighting in an endless desert, women in black robes focusing their bodies and minds. They strike faster and faster, nearing instantaneous movement. Then the images stop, and before I know it, I'm mimicking the movements of the Centurions.

Punch after punch, kick after kick. I fight an invisible enemy. Dodging left and right, everything is in perfect sequence. No wasted movement. No fear—for fear is the mind-killer.

For hours, I train in the cave, destroying my practice dummy countless times. I step back and focus my mind, breathing in and out, concentrating on the energy within my body.

I feel each muscle tightening and loosening with every passing second. This is only the beginning. This martial art is just the precursor to the Weirding Way, but one must walk before they can run.

I look down at my fists. There's no blood, but I feel a small ache as my body adjusts to these new movements. Echoes of combat, yells, and screams still ring in my mind. The final image I see is pale, blue eyes staring directly at me.

I breathe and return to my bed. Focusing on Power Manipulation, I create a new ability—one that will benefit me in the long run.

Matter Creation: The user can create any type of artificial, organic, or inorganic matter, as well as any object, either from nothing or by using existing sources of matter and energy. They can shape the created matter into any form they wish and specify the material's type, layers, or subatomic structure. With practice, advanced users can even manipulate the matter they've created.

I feel all three charges flow into this power, and it's as if a switch flicks in my mind. I raise my hand, focusing on creating a small amount of water. A ball of water appears above my palm.

I chuckle to myself, enjoying the sensation of creation. Is this how scientists and inventors feel? I could get used to this. Sadly, with just three charges, I am limited in what I can create, both in terms of quantity and complexity.

So, no adamantium or uru just yet. But as I hold the water in my hand, I feel satisfied. I also feel the eyes of the primordial mother on me, and I smirk, sensing her surprise.

It's nice to know that even someone as old as her can still be surprised.

Inspired Inventor:

(1/10) Metal Gear Cybernetics, (2/10) War Tactics, (3/10) Prana Bindu,

Power Manipulation:

(2/10) Increased Daily Charges: Increase Charge Gains With One Additional Charge For Every Level.(Three Charges Per Day)

(1/10) Intuitive Aptitude: This kind of intuition can make the users well informed and knowledgeable by instinct, as they spontaneously learn anything that they may encounter, intuitively grasping the knowledge of how things work and how to use it to their advantages. 

(3/10) Matter Creation: The user can create any type of artificial, organic, or inorganic matter, as well as any object, either from nothing or by using existing sources of matter and energy. They can shape the created matter into any form they wish and specify the material's type, layers, or subatomic structure. With practice, advanced users can even manipulate the matter they've created.