Chapter 20: Mr. Stark

With eager anticipation, Carrera met Mr. Stark the next day. Instead of being forced into meaningless duels, she was now able to train under someone willing to teach her. She didn't know the depths of Mr. Stark's skill, but for him to refer to her father by name, he must've been at a similar level. He held a status that was a far cry from her previous mentors.

Most were mundane humans with the rare exception of some Exalted indebted to Shadow Covenant. Their mentoring skills were subpar, mostly backed up by their own skill with a particular weapon. Which was common, no Exalted worth their own salt would stoop to being a mentor. Even if it was a heir of one of the four great powers.

She wasn't aware of the exact strength of her father, but his position demanded power. He was most likely Rank 5, a level classified as a demigod. The barrier that separated mortals from immortals, in which the number of individuals would rapidly plummet. Those that were able to cross the enormous gulf between Rank 4 and Rank 5 would shed their mortal coils and undergo a profound change. 

While individual power mattered a lot, he was undoubtedly backed by figures ranked much higher; courtesy as a blessed of the Queen. A mere demigod would be unable to maintain the strength of such a powerful organization. In a sense he was a figurehead, but one possessing divine power at that.

She had seldom made close contact with him. Forever toiling in mountains of work, they didn't possess a deep relationship. Therefore she was unable to truly gauge the disposition of a demigod, leaving much to be understood. Her education had only briefly mentioned the topic of such half-mortal and half-divine figures.

There were those that inherited a significant amount of divine blood from a deity. If they were capable of withstanding the radiant power of such a being without losing their mind or physically exploding, they would ascend to a demigod. Such individuals were far and few between- and rightly so. How could a mere mortal be capable of withstanding such power? The only way to produce one with high chances of success would be through the intercourse of a deity and mortal- which was even rarer- to produce a natural demigod. 

Then there were those that attained divinity from the Tower itself. The phenomena was largely unexplained, not linked to divine blood or authority at all. The Tower was capable of raising an individual's natural order in a foreign, but natural manner. The majority of demigods of today are a result of an individual ascending the divine steps of Halcyon.

'Does that mean Mr. Stark is a demigod?'

He certainly didn't seem that way, with his attitude and skill. They were portrayed as radiant figures, only third to angels and the deities themselves. They were more grounded versions of such holy figures- their interactions with humanity much more common.

'How much is he holding back? If a demigod exerted a mere fraction of their divine aura, most Rank 0s and some Rank 1s would disintegrate on the spot.'

Shaken out of her stupor, Mr. Stark entered the small arena that had housed Carrera's multiple beatdowns. He looked the same as yesterday, sporting a white coat over light metal armor. She couldn't tell the material his armaments were made of, but they looked like a form of black iron. It was also crafted to suit someone capitalizing on mobility, only protecting the wearer's vitals. If he really was a demigod, he sure didn't dress like one.

He tossed her two leather sheathes, which she caught with surprise. They were surprisingly heavy and almost causing Carrera to drop them. 

"If you want to learn my technique, you'll use those. An extra pair cost me a pretty penny, but you seem more suited to such blades," Mr. Stark informed her. She was surprised he was willingly to splurge a bit on training her. Why was he willing to go such lengths for something to pass the time? She could only attribute it to his potential limitless reserves of money, or enigmatic nature. 

Unsheathing the twin blades, she was left in silent awe. They were crafted of an ivory-colored alloy, with wide blades ending in single-curved edges. They were simple, but radiated an elegant uniqueness. They were beautiful but left Carrera feeling unnerved. While she had trained with a multitude of weapons- this was her first time fully attempting to master one.

Thanking him, she attempted to form a battle stance. She was most familiar with using a long sword, an adaptable and widely used weapon. It exceled in reach, adaptability, and lethality; making it a near perfect weapon for dealing with all sorts of situations. Dual-wielding with swords reminiscent of daggers were deeply alien to her. 

Dual-wielding demanded continuous, fluid movements. It required the wielder to be dexterous and adaptable. Swinging two blades were significantly more different then only using one.

Paired with fluid swiftness, they excelled in chain attacks infused with speed. Her foundation was mainly composed of rigid stances designed to gauge her opponent using a formidable defense, paired with swift counterattacks. All in all, she would be learning something at odds with her usual style. 

Watching her struggle, Mr. Stark unsheathed his own blades. They were carbon copies of the one's in her hands- one-edged, curved ebony blades. But she sensed a glaring different between them. It wasn't something observable with the naked eye. His felt enchanted with power, while her blades were empty husks. 

"First, we'll have a light spar with only one blade. Try to get used to its weight, balance, and reach. Once you gain familiarity with just the one, we'll throw in two." Mr. Stark instructed, twirling the blades in his hands as an example. "As a heir, I'm sure you're familiar with many weapons including these. But I still want to see how far you've gone with them."

Putting her second short sword away, she took a simple stance; legs slightly apart, back straightened, and blade held at an angle. It was a basic form designed to minimize openings while allowing the user to spring into action. 

He nodded his head, "Good, let's get started."

Despite his announcement, Mr. Stark didn't budge an inch. He remained rooted in place, unmoving like a tree in the forest. Carrera automatically knew he didn't fall asleep. With a slightly confused expression, Carrera cleared her thoughts before bolting forward in a burst of speed. 

With a straight forward thrust, the tip of her sword pierced the air. She poured all of her effort into the strike. Pivoting with her body allowed her to unleash a substantial amount of force. 

CLANG!

A dull, metallic sound rang out. It perfectly captured the unease that rippled her heart. The force from his parry caused Carrera to lose her balance, almost tripping over herself. Her blow had bounced off his solid defense.

"Remember, your using a new weapon. It doesn't possess the same reach, or weight. You can't rely on those things anymore," he chuckled dryly. "Any decent sword master would know you were trying to use the weight of your weapon there. But these blades aren't nearly as heavy as a longsword."

Her expression slightly soured. His words had hit true, cementing her thoughts about him. He was truly an experienced Exalted- a powerful one at that to boot. Twisting her body, she dealt a series of fluid strikes. They whistled through the air in a blur, aimed at vital spots in precise movements. This time she attempted to lean into the speediness that daggers were known for.

Mr. Stark deflected each one with ease, parrying or dodging them by a hair's breadth. She was getting slightly frustrated by his indifferent demeanor. While her strikes were less powerful then if she had used a sword, they were nonetheless devastatingly fast.

He was like an immovable wall, absorbing all of her attacks without so much as a change in expression. Those placid silver eyes wouldn't budge at all. From slightly adjusting his stance, to minimal parries, it was like he knew what she would do without her even being aware of it.

Shoving useless thoughts away, she attempted to focus on her form. Carrera realized the strengths of her current weapon become more apparent to her as the duel progressed. These strengths far exceeded her original thoughts of things like using it's weight for power.

Lighter then a long sword, it could easily pull itself back and create feints more fluidly. This made shrouded her attacks in multiple mirages. With its flexibility and length, she could use the flat of the blade to redirect attacks in a more focalized manner. It was the polar opposite of her previous style, that excelled in rigidity and defense.

Slowly she could feel the blade in her hands become lighter, the chain of attacks produced by her slashes rippling the air in increased fluidity. 

A small grin played across Mr. Stark's lips, "Good, your a quick learner."

For the next hour, he would remain focused on defense. Her strikes would be blocked, parried, or dodged relentlessly. Despite that, Carrera didn't feel unease or disappointment. She could feel herself become more attuned with the blade grasped within her hands.

After she had reached her limit, he called for a short break.

"You display good technique," Mr. Stark sincerely applauded. "Which will only grow when you gain access to a mana core. And I'm sure you've received an extensive education on how to utilize mana already."

Carrera reluctantly nodded. While it was difficult for mundane humans to utilize mana with the absence of a mana core, it wasn't strictly impossible. With external help they could learn the fundamentals such as reinforcement to a degree. Such practice would be fruitful when they gained access to a mana core, as they were already experienced in the basics.

"It's only been an hour, but let's try two blades when the break is over," Mr. Stark nonchalantly said. Carrera couldn't tell if she had progressed to such a degree already. If anything was he impatient and wanted to move on to the harder stuff?

Carrera raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure I'm ready for that?"

"The earlier drill was to familiarize yourself with the blade, what's next is the hard part," he explained. "You're already used to learning weapons quickly. The earlier spar was to get you warmed-up for the real stuff."

She could only relent, laying against the cold obsidian floor. Getting used to using a short sword wasn't as hard as she anticipated, after all her training encompassed a variety of sharp implements. From maces, shields, daggers, anything that could be used in battle was taught with rigorous intensity. Heirs were forged into a jack of all trades.

"Say, Carrera, why are you imprisoned down here in the first place? Did you stay past your bedtime?" Mr. Stark asked, ending with a stupid joke. It almost prompted her to release a string of curses, but she barely managed to restrain herself. It wouldn't be good if she offended her only mentor. Nonetheless, her blunt attitude still prevailed.

"Are you stupid, Mr. Stark?" She tried to phrase it respectfully. But she was simply unable to hide the undertone of contempt hidden within it.

"Hey, I didn't pay much attention to your people's customs and whatnot. I'm only here to repay a favor, not that I'm even doing my job."

Carrera sighed in exasperation, finding her mentor to be quite the character. For someone she deduced she be at the level of a demigod, a being ascended from a mortal shell, he was quite ignorant.

"Starting at the age of ten, we hold ceremonies to test if the trait from the Queen is inherited within us. Those that manifest it early are considered geniuses, and can secure power for their respective families. There are those that take a couple more years to manifest it, but some never do."

Trying to avoid the dark expression painting her face, she spit out one last sentence. "I'm one such person."

He nodded in understanding, "I see. As the second-daughter of the current clan leader, it would be a problem if you never manifested it."

Carrera flinched, for some reason annoyance painted her emotions. After believing she had tempered herself with cold rationality, this enigmatic man had managed to push her buttons.

"What an interesting system."

Despite his nonchalant words, Mr. Stark couldn't help but scowl. "To treat your own flesh and blood like this because of something so useless is beyond me."

Carrera had a slight frown, he had deemed a trait blessed by the Queen as useless? She couldn't help but feel a little disillusioned by his thoughts. From the moment she was born, inheriting the trait from their divine lineage was the most important thing in the world. Anything else didn't matter.

Noticing her expression, he laughed dryly, "Of course its important when you challenge Halcyon and desire to get stronger, but I believe there are more important things."

"More important things then power?"

Her whole life had been a journey to get stronger; at first it was to catch up to her sister and fulfill her parent's long cherished ambitions. Her aspirations had changed into burning everything that had brought her pain, but the root of her desires remained the same. To gain power. 

"Hah, you think all to life is power?"

In an instinctual manner, he ruffled her long obsidian hair. For an odd reason, Carrera didn't feel particularly against the feeling. She would usually be disgusted, and repulsed by any form of intimate contact.

Miss Faye was the only exception. Maybe she saw a hint of a fatherly figure in this man. She couldn't help but feel a small crack form in the walls of apathy she surrounded herself with.

Mr. Stark continued, oblivious to her emotions. "If there is one thing I can hope you'll remember from this. And it isn't the combat techniques I'll instill in you,."

A serious expression crossed his face, a stark difference to his usual laid-back demeanor. "Grow strong to protect those you wish to protect."

Carrera was about to rebut, "I have no one I wish to protect."

Before she could get the chance, Mr. Stark cut her off with a knowing smile. "You will find such people."

It was like he could read her mind.

"Gaining power is important, a necessary path one must follow to ensure their survival. But remember the manner strength is used is more important."

Eyeing her, "I'm sure you have all sorts of feelings about the Shadow Covenant. I have no right to tell you what's right and wrong. But, know that there is more then just vengeance."

Carrera's faced remained stoic with her eyes slightly averted. She had just met the man, but he was able to deduce some things about her. Who wouldn't become bitter and filled with vengeance if placed in her circumstances. His words wouldn't move her- she stubbornly believed. 

"Alright, that's enough talking. Let's get started," he finished. 

Unsheathing a second blade, Carrera attempted to mimic her mentor's stance from the previous day. 

"Mm, not quite. Loosen your hips a little, and slightly tilt your arms. Good."

After adjusting her stance, he smiled. "Come at me."

Carrera's figure blurred, nearly blending in with the deep shadows around her. Two white lights sundered the air, her body materializing behind her adversary. She lacked the fundamental physical increase brought about by ranking up and use of mana to reinforce her body.

Despite that, her speed seemed to have elicited a small smile from Mr. Stark. Her blades blurred, forming a series of slashes that collided into her mentor's indomitable stance. Sparks danced through the air as twin swords were blocked or parried in rapid succession.

"Your strikes are random, hasty. Chain them together to increase strength, or move them separately to become harder to read," he instructed sternly. "There are many benefits of dual-wielding that a single sword can't produce."

Carrera heeded his instructions, attempting to move slashes in a way befitting a river. She attempted to mimic the swift, flowing style of Mr. Stark from the previous day. It was proving to be an arduous task.

"Don't try to copy me, it will all come to you."

He had seen right through her.

Parrying another strike, she put some distance between them. "If its a technique, won't I make more progress trying to copy you?"

Mr. Stark shook his head, "It doesn't work like that. Only by watching, and experiencing it can you innately form a feel for it. Robotically copying it won't get you anywhere."

Carrera tried to mull over his instructions, finding it a little hard to believe. She had been able to utilize a plethora of weapon skills and techniques before by mimicking her teachers. While she wasn't confident in saying she had mastered them, she still had a basic understanding of them.

Was that the main issue? By copying their moves she was only able to gain a shallow understanding of their techniques? She didn't like how her previous efforts had been bottle-necking her progress, leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She was unsure if she could only mimic styles, and could never execute the full potential of a technique.

"Here, I'll demonstrate." Watching him with a strange expression, Mr. Stark's twin blades dissolved in a whirl of light. 

'Where did his swords go? What the hell?'

Before Carrera could question him, he pulled a long sword out of thin air. It was crafted of steel with a simple handguard, and slim blade. It looked very similar to the weapon she had fought him with the previous day.

His figure suddenly blurred, appearing before Carrera in a split second. He had toned down his physical abilities. His speed still managed to catch her off guard. Instantly, her blades flashed in retaliation, sending a shower of sparks into the air. Carrera's frown deepened as the duel progressed.

'This guy... he's using my technique.'

Mr. Stark was wielding the long sword with skilled dexterity, his defenses unwavering. When an opening appeared, a counterattack would send Carrera reeling. He was mimicking the battle style she displayed for a short moment in their previous dual.

'He's able to use it to such a degree?!'

Carrera favored the long sword since birth, believing it was the only weapon she had been able to consider "fully mastered." She was fighting a mirror image of herself. She was starting to notice her previous thoughts couldn't be further from the truth. After all, Mr. Stark was demonstrating her technique with uncanny likeness. The only difference was his physique, and experience.

Watching her expression crumble, Mr. Stark spoke up. "Being able to mimic styles to such a degree is noteworthy, but it limits you on fully mastering them. Even you're capable of still defending against it. That means it's only at that level."

Whether she liked it or not, his words struck a chord in her. Taking a breather, she leaped backwards with a disconcerted expression.

"I want you to disregard those notions of 'jack of all trades, master of none.' In battle against a trained and experienced warrior, half-mastered techniques won't mean anything."