Salhiras

Getting into the beginning stance was more difficult than it looked; every muscle in my body screamed in pain as I forced them into their position.

I slightly angled my body to its side and bent my knees for an even weight distribution. At the same time, I raised my sword high and diagonal; its tip pointed toward the reflection's neck like a poised fang.

This was hard, this sword style; I already knew I had never seen something like this, but to wield it firsthand was a different experience altogether. The alignment of my sword, moderating my breath into a rhythmic pattern while controlling as many of the exact individual muscles as I could.

I hadn't realized this back in the vision but this sword style was extremely physically demanding, even getting into the basic stance felt like a nightmare, and that was with me barely replicating it. I doubted that I could completely follow it even in my peak physical condition.

The reflection of mine had already sense something was wrong and gotten into a defensive position. Honestly, I could only hope he would be forced to use it.

Steadying my mind for the final time while continuously recalling the first movement, I lunged forward for the first strike… only to stumble and almost fall face-first into the sand.

"Damn it." I cursed while retreating back and dodging the reflection's attack. The first step, and I had already failed it. I was wrong about my previous estimation; this seemed to be even more difficult than I had expected.

I rolled to my side and managed to get some distance from the reflection and his several-foot-long spear.

"Ha Ha Ha Ha." The reflection laughed while pointing at me. "That was quite a nice attack you did just now; I can't believe you had me scared there for a second."

I ground my teeth and once again got into the stance, bending my knees and raising my sword. Preparing myself, I lunged once again.

My sword missed his spear by several feet, allowing him to maneuver past it and stab me in the shoulder.

"Argh." I groaned and once again retreated at a distance, only this time, he didn't give me time to settle my thoughts. The reflection charged in, wielding his spear with uncanny accuracy, forcing me to revert back to my previous style.

"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it." I cursed once again. Was trying to use that a mistake after all? Should I revert back to my old style?

That answer was quickly chosen for me as both of us began falling into the previous stalemate.

No, I didn't have any choice. A stalemate was a sure death sentence for me; if I wanted to survive, I had to use that style.

Parrying another blow from his spear, I tried the attack once again. Unfortunately, the result was the same once again; this time, I barely managed to dodge the incoming spear, only getting slightly grazed on my neck.

I tried once again, and again, and again. Battle continued as before, yet the results remain the same.

One fail after another, only this time, my body was riddled with holes. I didn't know how to say this, but it was as if my sword felt heavy for some reason.

Until finally, it happened; after who knows how many tries, I finally managed to correctly land the movement . Sneaking past his guard, aiming to incapacitate his dominant hand.

Once again, it miserably failed; the reflection raised his other arm and punched me in the face, sending me reeling in the distance.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm saying this, but even I'm starting to feel bad for you." He spoke while shaking the hand he had just used to punch me.

I, on the other hand, didn't answer. My mind was too startled to think anything. Why did that strike fail? It had been almost perfect, from the movement to the execution. I had replicated everything perfectly, every detail… it had been perfect. Every muscle in my body was already screaming in pain; even standing up was feeling like a battle in itself.

Technically, I hadn't incorporated everything. My mind immediately snapped back to something Father had told me on my first day of sword training. There were certain myths about these highly powerful weapon arts in the world that were specifically formed to achieve one specific goal; as such, they could only achieve that one goal and nothing else.

What were they called… Salhiras... something in ancient Khravaen? Something about mastering a single focus.

Could this also be one of the Salhiras? Maybe what was Khaldrin thinking about while wielding his sword? My mind immediately went back to the memory, carefully recalling every single one of his thoughts, no matter how small.

"Just stop and fight like someone who actually knows how to use a sword, will you?" The reflection spoke and began walking towards me when he suddenly paused.

I once again got into a fighting stance, only this time it felt different, both to him and me. My sword no longer felt heavy as I raised it and pointed it towards his neck.

"No way, I am getting scared of that again." The reflection spoke and charged; his spear pointed towards my head. He was going for the kill, and so was I.

What happened next was hard to describe. My body, as if one with my sword, flew through the air, instantly closing the distance between us.

The reflection's eyes widened as I effortlessly bypassed his defenses while my sword moved inside in a slash.

"Wha-" He tried to speak but couldn't finish as his head separated from his torso, flying through the air before landing on the sandy shore, his eyes still wide in shock.

Looking at his collapsing figure, I let out a snort before too falling down on my knees.

There hadn't been any small insignificant thoughts in Khaldrin's head, just one.

To finish off, the blonde guy before the next sunrise.