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Thirty Years Have Passed

*here with a new chapter. Ok, I think this is the second longest chapter, I'm not sure? I think I have one that's 4k words, while this one is 3k, so yeah. Enjoy reading it, and let me know what you think. We keep going on with more training and a bit more understanding of Mark's power. Once again, enjoy. Peace out and Deus vult.*

Mark's sword fell once again, the number of swings lost somewhere on the path. He had no clue how much time had passed outside, but the thoughts were soon vanishing once his sword reached the lower level. His strike had a precise trajectory, moving the right way in a vertical down. He had switched to different angles of cutting as Herta's count was the only thing to keep his mind fueled with new information. 

"Mark, ten years have passed. How are you feeling?" 

Time moved normally, and his mind finally didn't delete the last strike. It was a horizontal strike, done with his left hand as the lead on the sword. Once Herta told him about him having performed a huge number of strikes that were the same, he'd simply switch to doing that same thing, but with the other palm leading the way. It was all to be ambidextrous with his weapon, to use it no matter what hand it fell on. 

"Phew, I feel... alright. Somewhat mental strain, or at least it feels like my mind is a bit stuffy, but we're good. I can keep going. How long has it been outside?" 

Herta's avatar began moving around, analyzing him from different angles. 

"It's been a couple hours. You should complete your one hundred years before midnight if we keep this pace going." 

Mark nodded, thinking that he'd need a lot of sleep afterwards. 

"What can I say? Let's hope the knowledge is engrained in my body." 

He held his sword and gave it a few swings from different angles. To his surprise, it all went according to plan. The trajectory the blade followed was a straight line, but connecting the strikes was something he'd need more practice with. 

"Is Himeko still with you?" 

"She isn't. She had to go help the other crew members on Jarilo-VI." 

Mark nodded, knowing the reason as well. Topaz was there—that much he knew. Himeko had to offer the entire truth on the situation, coming in with statistics and the like. He smirked, imagining the look on Topaz' face when the planet is actually all sunny and nice, without traces of snow. He'd have to pay a visit as well sometime. 

"Well, that's good. So, Herta, on to the next phase. This one requires some conscious interference, I'd say. I want to measure the power levels of the Stellarons when I use them." 

A moment of silence followed, which only grew a little bit heavy on his shoulders. 

"The power levels? I see. You wish to get data on the energy levels from them? We can do that, but it all depends on how much power you can draw out from them." 

He sat on the ground, looking around at the empty city center. No one was there but him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar yet somewhat foreign act. 

"Herta, make sure the ones in reality don't go haywire. That's the last thing I want to see happen." 

With that, he focused on the energy. It was within himself, and he could simply access the spot by thinking and focusing. It took too much time to get the flow going towards the outside. Just like honey, the energy was slow to move, but there was plenty of it. He'd just have to get a better understanding of it by keeping a continuous flow going. 

"The readings are normal; you're not utilizing them in reality. We're reading the energy levels... hm, what a surprise." 

Mark was nearly taken out of it by the sudden shift in tone. 

"What's wrong?" 

Herta's voice hummed at low volume as she kept checking the data. 

"You're barely utilizing anything. The energy resource within you could easily rival that of a few stars, yet you're barely capable of using it." 

He felt his mind snap at the idea. The sheer scale of power within him was close to breaking his mind as he kept thinking about what crazy stunts he could pull—only if he became capable of drawing it out. 

"THAT MUCH?!" 

Her avatar remained silent, unimpressed by his outburst. 

"Yes, that much. Are you that much of an idiot that you're unaware of the things you're holding within? If you were to self-destruct, you would cause destruction on a level unbeknownst to you." 

Mark felt his face drop. It was purely and utterly incomprehensible. Just what the fuck are Stellarons? 

"Well damn, remind me to never do that shit unless I want to fuck around with someone and get out of some sticky situation." 

Closing his eyes again, he tried to increase the output, but it all felt stuck within himself. It was like his mind couldn't pull the load. 

"Herta, start the time contraction once more. Snap me out of it after another ten years. I have to focus constantly on this." 

No answer, meaning that Herta was already working on it. Thus, Mark kept his eyes closed and kept mulling over the energy within himself, forcing it to move. 

Time passed. 

He could finally move it at a faster rate, as if it were water instead of honey. The flow of energy was stable, allowing for continuous usage at low outputs. 

More time passed. 

The more his mind grew used to it, the more he could draw out. He felt no pain for it, but the idea of what kind of strain it would all put on him was visible in his mind. It felt vivid, despite it being simulated. He'd have to increase his body's capabilities by a lot, and he had no clue how other than through normal training outside. 

His ten years soon came to an end, and they were more than fruitful. Moving the energy around became second nature to him, happening at a mere thought, just like flipping a switch. 

"Ten years have passed. Are you feeling anything uncharacteristic?" 

He shook his head as he stood up, moving around with increased agility thanks to the energy. 

"No, it's fine. Again, just that stuffy feeling in my mind, but otherwise I'm fine. So, ready to read some power levels?" 

Herta's avatar came closer, following him with a curious gaze. 

"Go on, show me what you have." 

"Make sure to count the power increase. I need some sort of comparison. I'll keep taking out more and more, then we'll see how it all goes." 

Herta had her eyes on the data, waiting for Mark to begin. Instantly, the numbers shot up like crazy, reaching dangerous levels in the blink of an eye. He smirked as he swung his arms slowly, doing some exaggerated anime move to show off. 

"Since I can't use yellow light, I have to improvise." 

Smiling to himself, he shouted at the top of his lungs. 

"Turquoise Jade OVERDRIVE!" 

The power reached its upper limit with that movement. Herta was stunned. 

"100% already?" 

She tried to keep her cool, but he still smirked at the subtle hint of curiosity in her voice. She was amazed, no matter how much she tried to hide it. 

"Yeah, I hope you got the rest of the increase noted. Now, let me know what the numbers are before I start moving." 

She checked, marveling at the information. 

"You seem to draw out energy exponentially. Basically, when you use 10% of the Stellarons' power, you use a specific level of energy. 20% usage doesn't double it, but instead increases it by a large margin. From 20% to 30%, the increase is still reasonable, but when you go past 50%, each 1% seems to go up with more energy than what it takes to reach that stage." 

She was in awe at the crazy readings, and Mark felt like he could move planets. 

"Herta, are you sure I won't break the Simulated Universe if I try a stunt now?" 

"Of course not," she said, but there was a small waver in her voice, something almost human. She wasn't sure of it. 

"I did say I'd push it to the limit; here I go. Let's release some of it." 

He took his sword out, unleashing the Sword of Will with ease now that his energy could be easily controlled. The blade glowed like no star could match, with a light as intense as the burning desire within himself to achieve a perfect ending. 

"Let's see a simple strike with this beauty." 

As the sword pointed up, waiting high above his head, Herta's voice rang out. 

"Don't... it might cause you to be expulsed forcibly out of the Simulated Universe, and then we'd have to restart part of the process." 

He smirked, lowering the sword, dismissing the extra layer that represented his own being. 

"So, I guess I can put quite the toll on this world. Very well, but I still have to move around a bit." 

He chuckled, running around like a madman, his speed so great that he slammed into a wall before he could even notice he moved. 

"What the fuck was that?" 

Herta's avatar floated around, following him like a child chasing their parent. 

"You're not used to instant acceleration of that level. You're lucky you're not in the real world; otherwise, your neck would have snapped instantly." 

He shook at the thought, grumbling to himself as he stood up, touching his back out of reflex, despite no pain being felt. 

"I see. Well, at least I know I can do this." 

He smirked, looking again towards some open space. 

"I'll have to use the secret technique from a prestigious family, with the name of 'Jojo' being a tradition. It's a technique so damaging that even the strongest fear it. Its sheer power can scare the Aeons themselves." 

His tone was so serious and deep, filled with conviction like none she's seen before. She found herself glued to the screen, watching through the eyes of her avatar with a childlike curiosity that she masked beneath the facade of a doll. 

"What technique do you speak of?" 

He cracked his knuckles, preparing himself. 

"NIGERUNDAYOOOOOOO!" 

Mark dashed ahead at incredible speeds, coming to a halt only after passing through a few walls. He was laughing his eyes out, while Herta was so annoyed with him that she nearly thought of ending him while his body was inside the room. 

"Is that the technique you speak of? Running away?" 

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear while he was upside down, his legs nearly touching the ground as his back was bent at a funny angle. 

"Yeah. The dude who used it defeated an immortal god of sorts. Heh, funny business. Anyway, let's just..." 

He stood up, fixing his back once more before preparing for the next step of his training. 

"Well, let's see. I trained my basic sword moves, and I worked on using my power. Now, I have to work on my actual combat skills. Herta, please ask Screwllum to code in somebody I could fight with in hand-to-hand combat." 

Said and done, in a few seconds there was a puppet standing before him, taller with longer arms. 

"This should teach you how to fight at a disadvantage. It's fast, has great combat senses, insane answer time, and arms that are longer than yours. It's also taller, meaning that hitting the head is an arduous task." 

He nodded, taking one more look at the puppet. 

"Alright, make sure to delete my memories after every battle. Make all of them feel like my first. I'll just have to get it into my muscle memory at some point. Now, shall we get started? I'll refrain from using my powers since they're not aiding me right now. I need the basis, so I gotta figure them out." 

Herta's contact got cut off, meaning that his training could start. At first, the combat dummy moved slowly, teaching him silently how to stand, how to keep his guard up, and what makes a good pose. Mark mimicked it, doing his best to get it right. 

At first, his pose was wrong, so the dummy simply walked up to him and corrected his stance. 

"Oh, thanks, buddy. Heh, I guess that you're not that bad, right? Well, thanks for the guidance." 

The dummy walked over to his side of the 'ring', watching Mark with careful eyes. Soon, it leapt at him, the footwork moving smoothly. In the few times that he had watched fighting content of actual quality with people who knew what they were doing, he had learned a thing or two, but he never got around to using them. Thus, Mark tried his best to block and go for a body shot, only to get punched in the face and thrown around. 

"Ok, now you've done it." 

Countless failures piled up, all of them engraving something in him. He could block by pure reflex and dodge by already knowing what was happening. His body reacted to the subtle things that he failed to notice sometimes but had seen in the deleted memories. It was all piling up within himself, the knowledge of piled failures leading to the rounds close to the end. 

He was about equal in capabilities, learning to use everything at once. By that time, the dummy itself had shifter form, sometimes using a larger body, other times using one that's smaller than his, all to prepare him for all sorts of scenarios. No general combat style existed, only different moves used together in all forms and varieties. It was like fighting the best of the best in their category at once. 

"This time I'll get you; you hear me?" grinned Mark, throwing a few jabs, only to fake out and slide to the side, grabbing it by the arm. 

"We're not boxing, amigo, and you know it as well as I do. It's a motherfucking dog fight." 

With that, he threw the dummy over his shoulder, slamming it into the ground before punching it in the presumed face. 

"Checkmate, buddy." 

He helped it up and shook its hand. 

"Thanks for the training buddy, but I think my ten years are over in here." 

Herta's voice was a reminder of how right that was. 

"Yes, your ten years are done for this time around. You've used up only thirty years out of your one hundred, so I'm curious about what else you have in mind." 

He smirked, thinking that a lot of things had slipped his mind. Instead of worrying, he focused on one thing only. 

"Seventy years of sword fighting. Use my memories and try to recreate someone I've recently met on the Luofu, a fearsome warrior that you might have heard of: Jingliu. She was the Sword Master of that place, a warrior feared far and wide." 

His tone went somber for a moment as more thoughts came into his mind, rushing in like a flood. He thought about ways to solve the mara, but in the end, nothing came to him other than what he had already thought of. 

"I've seen some of her combat abilities, but I'm sure they're a mere flicker of what she truly can. Still, even that flicker is worth chasing after. If I can perfect my swordsmanship to at least that level, I should be able to make up for my lack of speed and power through technique. Also, let's not forget I have the Stellarons, meaning I should be able to reach her speed and power. Heh, it's fun... I actually see a way forward." 

He smiled sublty, nodding to himself. Herta watched, blankly, unimpressed. 

"Whatever you say. Focus on your memories of the battle, and Screwllum will try to code her in based on both what you saw and the information we have on her. For the sake of training, we'll make sure she spends some time taking it slow before actually going at full power." 

Satisfied was the hum that left his lips at the idea. Thinking about fighting her was something that kept his blood going faster than normal, giving his heart a purpose. 

"I got it, then. Also, could you preserve that battle dummy's data? I feel like he's got a semi-level of sentience or something. It feels... alive, and I can't quite wrap my head around it." 

Herta sighed, thinking of his way of seeing things as idiocy. 

"He's unlike the copies of the Aeons inside this world that have actually connected to their Paths. It's just code, nothing more, nothing less... but fine, I'll ask Screwllum to preserve it." 

Mark smiled a bit, nodding. 

"You know, you're nicer than you want to seem. Truth be told, I think you and I are alike. I love a lot of virtual things as well, things that will never become real. Still, I'm sure you have some sort of Curio that might be able to make it real, but I'm not gonna speak more on the topic. After all, I don't want my game accounts deleted... as if I had any." 

He kept thinking for a moment before looking straight at the avatar. 

"You know, I got a phone that's not on the same standard as what you people use in general. Mind checking it out to see if you could perhaps modify it to fit the standard?" 

Mark was slowly becoming more and more of a thorn in her side, treating her as some sort of assistant, or at least that's what she thought about him. 

"You sure love making others work for you. Fine, I'll give it a shot. It shouldn't be anything difficult, after all. I'll save your data and update your system to fit everything." 

"Thank you. Oh, and don't look through my data. I got some goofy photos of me in there." 

"As if I care about what meaningless trash you have in there. I'll simply do what you requested of me since you're an interesting test subject. In the future, I might require you for some other experiments." 

He gave it some thought and smirked. 

"Fine, but you pay me. I need a monthly salary—something decent for me to buy stuff that I might need. You know how it is; you got money and a damn Space Station, I'm the only idiot around with currently three Stellarons inside of him, maybe even more depending on what bullshit I'll go through." 

"You're impossible," she said in her monotonous voice, fed up with his bullshit. 

"No, I'm Mark," he said in the sweetest possible voice, taunting her blatantly. 

"One day you'll get yourself killed in some ugly manner, all thanks to that stupid tongue of yours." 

He shrugged, completely unbothered. 

"We'll have to wait and see. For now, let's keep this going. I'm ready for the next seventy years." 

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