The Sword (3)

"With the way you are now, you won't be able to defeat him."

The moment I heard about his words, they hit me like a blow. In my eyes, a scene materialized.

The black armor has green wind covering it. The battlefield that was stormed through.

Garret.

Felix.

Elias.

Mateo.

Clara.

Their bodies were lying on the ground.

CLENCH!

At this scene, how could I help but not raise my hands?

"What do you mean, Master?"

Seeing my state, my master shook his head. "This is why."

He sighed, stepping closer. "You are consumed by your memories, by your anger and pain. You cannot see beyond them. Your mind is clouded; your heart is heavy. In this state, you will never reach your true potential."

THUD!

And then he threw something right in front of me.

"Take it."

It was a wooden sword.

I picked it up, feeling the weight and texture of the wood in my hands. Master grabbed a wooden sword of his own, his grip firm and his stance ready.

"We are going to spar now," he said, his voice commanding.

"Spar."

"Yes, spar, you brat. Do you want to kill this old man?"

"That is not what I meant."

"Then, shut up and grab it."

I nodded, taking my stance and focusing on him. The wooden sword felt strange in my hands, different from the estoc I had wielded earlier, but I was ready to learn.

"Begin," Master commanded.

I struck swiftly, remembering my basics. I was confident that my sword would hit, but then suddenly, Master moved in a way that defied my expectations. In a split second, I found myself on the ground, my wrist throbbing with pain.

My eyes widened as I tried to process what had happened. "What... how?"

Master stood over me, his wooden sword still poised. "No matter what happens, you must never think of yourself as strong. In this world, there can always be someone stronger, someone better."

"..."

–THUD!

As if he was not satisfied, I saw the wooden sword in his hand flashing. And then, in an instant, I winced, the pain in my wrist. "I understand, Master."

He extended a hand, helping me to my feet. "Good. Now, again."

We resumed our stances, and I attacked again, only to be swiftly disarmed and knocked to the ground. The process repeated, each attempt ending with me on the ground, my body aching from the relentless strikes. Master showed no mercy, each of his attacks precise and powerful, leaving me bruised and humbled.

I struck again and again, but Master countered every move effortlessly. With each failure, the pain in my body grew, but so did my determination. I pushed myself to keep going, to learn from each mistake and improve my technique.

After what felt like an eternity of sparring and falling, Master finally called a halt. I lay on the ground, panting heavily, my body screaming in pain.

Master looked down at me, his expression unreadable. "Do you know why you were never able to land a hit on me?"

I struggled to my feet, my mind racing to find an answer. "Because... you're stronger and more skilled?"

Master shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "That is part of it, but not the main reason."

I frowned, trying to think of a better answer. "Because... I was too predictable?"

Master's smile widened. "Closer, but still not quite right. The reason you could not land a hit on me is because your sword is empty."

"My sword is empty?"

"That is right. Your sword is empty."

I looked at the wooden sword in my hand, turning it over as if to find some hidden flaw. "What do you mean, Master?"

"Your sword holds no weight," he explained. "Even while you are born to wield the sword, for what reason do you wield it?"

I stared at him, trying to grasp the deeper meaning of his words. "I wield it to become stronger, to avenge my comrades."

Master shook his head. "Those are motivations, but they are not reasons that give your sword weight. A True swordsman wields their weapon with purpose and conviction. They understand the essence of their blade, and they let it become an extension of their will."

I thought about his words, trying to understand the difference between my motivations and the deeper purpose he was referring to. "So, my sword is empty because I lack a true purpose?"

"Exactly," Master said, nodding. "You fight with anger and pain, but you have not yet found the true reason for wielding your sword. You must discover what gives your sword weight, what gives it meaning beyond the immediate goals of strength and vengeance."

I looked down at the wooden sword, feeling its weight in my hand. It felt solid, but I understood that Master was talking about something beyond the physical.

"How do I find that purpose?" I asked, looking up at him.

Master smiled gently. "That is a journey you must undertake yourself. Reflect on your life, your experiences, and your desires. What drives you? What do you truly seek? When you find those answers, your sword will no longer be empty."

I nodded, taking his words to heart. "I will reflect on it, Master. I will find the true purpose for wielding my sword."

"Good," Master said, his voice filled with encouragement. "Take the rest of the day to meditate. Even while learning how to wield your sword is important, you must also not forget your internal cultivation. You need to accumulate mana in your core, and you need to be able to fix your meridians."

'Right.'

The moment master said that to me, I knew what he was saying. While I needed to understand my sword, I also needed to make sure that I would not fall behind in terms of my internal cultivation.

After all, no matter what I do, as long as I can't control any mana and use it on the battlefield, it will be meaningless.

Master smiled at my determined expression. "That's the mindset. Now, let's begin your internal cultivation again."

We moved to a quiet spot under a large tree, the shade providing a cool respite from the sun. I sat down in the lotus position, focusing on my breathing as Master had taught me. The wooden sword lay by my side, a silent reminder of the path I was on.

"Close your eyes," Master instructed. "Focus on your breathing and visualize the river of energy flowing through you. Feel the mana in the air, draw it into your core, and circulate it through your meridians."

I did as he said, closing my eyes and taking deep, steady breaths. I visualized the river of energy within me, trying to draw mana from the surroundings into my body. The sensation of the warm, tingling mana entering my core returned, but this time, I was more aware of it.

"Remember, your meridians are reversed and blocked. You need to force the mana through, even if it causes pain," Master reminded me.

I nodded, focusing on the task at hand. As the man began to circulate through my body, I felt the familiar resistance and pain. My meridians, not yet fully adapted to the flow of mana, fought against the energy trying to pass through them.

The pain was intense, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. I could feel the mana moving sluggishly through my meridians, each inch a struggle. Sweat dripped down my face as I concentrated, refusing to give up.

"Good," Master said softly. "You're doing well. Keep pushing the mana through. Your meridians need to adapt, and that will only happen through perseverance."

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as I continued to force the mana through my meridians. The pain ebbed and flowed, sometimes nearly unbearable, but I persisted. I knew that this was a crucial part of my training, that mastering my internal cultivation was essential for my growth as a warrior.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Master called a halt. "That's enough for today. You did well, Lucavion."

I opened my eyes, breathing heavily, my body drenched in sweat. The pain was still there, a dull ache that reminded me of the effort I had exerted, but there was also a sense of accomplishment.

"Thank you, Master," I said, my voice hoarse.

He smiled, a proud glint in his eyes. "Rest now. Your body needs time to recover. We will continue this every day until your meridians are fully adapted. Remember, the journey is long, but every step forward is progress."

I nodded, grateful for his guidance. As I lay down to rest, I reflected on the day's training and the lessons I had learned. The path to understanding my sword and mastering my internal cultivation was challenging, but I was determined to persevere.

With my Master's guidance, I felt ready to face whatever obstacles lay ahead.

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