Three years had passed. Each day, I dedicated myself to mastering the first stage of magical swordsmanship—Blade Awakening. Those years were marked by exhaustion mingled with determination, where pain became the harbinger of future strength.
My life fell into a rhythm. With the first rays of dawn, I woke to my father's voice. Morning runs, endurance training, and mana control became integral parts of my routine. My body, initially too frail for such grueling exercises, gradually adapted. By the end of the first year, I could channel mana seamlessly through my arms and legs, performing dozens of sequences with a training sword against animated targets that my mother brought to life with magic.
Mana control began with meditation. Every morning, my father forced me to sit in complete silence, focusing on the mana core in my chest. I learned to visualize its flow and guide it where I needed it most.
For physical strength, he devised grueling tasks: moving heavy stones with mana-enhanced arms, leaping across ravines while channeling mana through my legs to maintain balance.
—«Your body is the vessel for mana,»—he'd say. «If the vessel is weak, it will crack when you try to fill it with power. So train it until it's stronger than steel.»
At first, these were mere words. By the end of the second year, I fully understood their meaning. I developed speed, strength, and flexibility that seemed impossible for someone my age. Without mana, I could run for miles without breaking a sweat; with it, I could leap across ravines and scale cliffs as though guided by an invisible force.
…
Sword exercises became a personal odyssey. Every morning, I worked on precision and speed. My father set up wooden targets, some moving unpredictably with the aid of magic. I had to destroy them before they could reach me, honing both my physical and magical senses.
One of the hardest tasks was maintaining concentration. I had to sustain mana in my limbs and keep an active enhancement for over two hours without pause. It felt impossible—mana surged like painful waves, threatening to cramp my muscles. Yet day by day, I pushed further.
—«Lose focus,»—my father would say, striking my ribs with a wooden sword,—«and you die. A magical swordsman has no room for mistakes. You either control mana, or its instability destroys you.»
I absorbed his lessons, but even this was only half of my journey. He didn't stop at physical training; he taught me strategy.
—«A sword mage doesn't rely solely on strength. The ability to see an enemy's weaknesses and use mana as both weapon and shield makes you invincible,»—he'd explain, pointing to a seemingly impenetrable target. «Find its flaw.»
…
By the third year, I mastered Blade Awakening to the point where I could activate enhancement the moment I gripped my sword. My strikes were lightning-fast, each motion amplified by perfect mana control.
I learned to recognize my limits, instantly halting enhancement if I felt mana slipping out of control. My body and mind had finally become one, allowing me to take the first true step as a magical swordsman.
During my final training session, my father approached, watching as I executed a flawless series of rapid strikes. Each target shattered with millimeter precision.
—«You're ready for the next stage, Ruwen,»—he said with respect in his voice. «But remember, this is only the beginning. The real journey begins when you ascend the first step.»
For the first time, I saw pride in his gaze—subtle yet undeniable.
—«I'm not ready to stop yet, Father.»
I knew many challenges lay ahead. Blade Awakening was only the start. The next stages demanded not just strength but an iron will, mastery of mana, and unyielding focus. I was ready to face it all.
…
But there was one secret I kept from everyone. I wasn't just training to master the sword—I was also restoring the Sword Aura.
This wasn't just a fighting style; it was a skill that connected me to my blade on an almost spiritual level. In my past life, I had been a swordmaster, and this aura was my greatest ally. It not only enhanced my physical abilities but allowed me to harmonize with my weapon. My sword became an extension of myself, every swing resonating with the will of my heart.
Rekindling this power required immense focus. Late at night, alone in my room, I worked tirelessly to rebuild it. At first, it was faint—fleeting glimpses of what it once was. But I knew that if I could fully awaken this bond, my strength would multiply tenfold.
Tomorrow was my father's final test: a one-on-one duel. He had tested me periodically over the years, but this would be different—a fight where I'd have to use everything he taught me.
…
The next day. The courtyard of their modest estate.
The setting sun painted the land in crimson hues. Ruwen and his father stood facing each other like duelists preparing for battle. Their figures cast long shadows, and the gleam of their blades caught the last light of the day. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint whisper of the wind.
Ruwen felt mana coursing through his veins, pooling in his right arm as it flowed down to his fingers and merged with his sword. The energy enveloped the blade, emitting a soft glow—a delicate, auric thread that gave the weapon a unique magical density.
On the other side, his father also activated his mana. Heavy streams of energy seemed to form around his arms, linking his body to his sword.
His mana was different: harsher, more aggressive—like molten lava, yet flowing with precise and measured rhythm. His gaze was calm but sharp, as though he were calculating Ruwen's every move in advance.
—«Ready?»—his father's voice rang out like a challenge, though a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
—«Ready,»—Ruwen replied shortly, stepping into his stance.
A second later, his father lunged forward. His first strike was swift and powerful, with an angle calculated down to the smallest detail. The father's sword moved with lethal precision, aimed at Ruwen's shoulder. But Ruwen could already feel the mana's flow, as if he instinctively knew the trajectory of the attack.
Ruwen raised his sword, intercepting the blow. The metallic clash of their swords echoed through the courtyard. The collision of their mana streams caused vibrations in the air, sending shimmering sparks flying around them.
Ruwen stepped to the left, redirecting mana to his legs, dodging the next strike in an instant. He countered with an upward slash, leaping into the attack. His father, however, used mana to strengthen his arms, and their blades met again. The air around them seemed to hum with the intensity of their collision.
Magical swordsmen were unlike ordinary fighters. Every movement they made was imbued with mana, and now, that distinction was clear.
—«You use mana in offense, but what about defense?»—his father taunted, shifting into a tight guard. His body glimmered with brief flashes of magic.
Ruwen surged forward, focusing mana into his legs for a burst of speed. In a single bound, he closed the gap between them. His sword descended in a powerful overhead slash, but at the last moment, his father intercepted the attack. Without pause, the elder swordsman used mana-enhanced shoulders to deliver a quick counterstrike, slamming into Ruwen's side.
Ruwen managed to mitigate the blow by quickly redirecting mana to the part of his body that took the hit. He didn't stop there. Strength flowed into his arms as mana coursed through his legs, allowing him to spin and unleash a diagonal slash.
His father parried the strike, though the slight hesitation in his movements was noticeable. Now, Ruwen began utilizing "linked strikes"—maneuvers where his mana-enhanced arms and legs worked in perfect synchronization. Every step, every attack resonated with a flawless symphony of mana and body.
Minutes passed, and their movements grew faster and sharper. The air around them thickened, as though their blades weren't just cutting through matter but through space itself.
At one point, his father shifted tactics. Channeling a massive amount of mana into his legs, he leapt high into the air. His figure vanished into a shining silhouette before descending upon Ruwen with incredible force. The father's blade moved like a lightning bolt, aiming straight for his son's neck.
Rwen immediately activated his full-body mana enhancement. His legs became as solid as steel, and his sword rose into a flawless guard. When his father's strike landed, Ruwen met it with so much energy that blue sparks of mana erupted around their blades.
—«Good! You've finally learned to control mana in defense, not just attack!»—his father exclaimed, leaping back to avoid a sharp counterstrike.
The time had come for a decisive move. His father, aware that his energy was waning, jumped back, concentrating his mana to regain focus. He prepared for a final strike, but Ruwen didn't give him the chance.
Pouring all his mana into his sword, Ruwen doubled the speed of his attacks. His movements became nearly imperceptible, his blade darting toward every possible opening. Finally, with a perfectly timed strike, he disarmed his father, sending the sword flying from his grip.
His father stopped, a faint smile spreading across his face.
—«You haven't just reached Blade Awakening—you've mastered it,»—he said, brushing sweat-soaked hair from his face. «It's been years since I've fought this seriously. You've worked hard.»
—«Well done,»—he added, placing a hand on Ruwen's head.
Ruwen nodded, breathing heavily but keeping the joy swelling inside him under control.
This wasn't just a fight; it was a moment of acknowledgment. For the first time, his father realized they were now equals.
…
But their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a piercing sound. A loud bell shattered the quiet.
«Dong…»
One ring meant monsters were attacking.
«Dong…»
The second ring echoed—signaling an invasion of the town.
Who would dare attack? Bandits? But would they risk targeting even a moderately fortified city? Strange. Who could it be?
Without wasting a second, his father grabbed his sword and rushed toward the town. Ruwen followed, his heart pounding with foreboding. A strange feeling gnawed at him.
...
...
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End of Chapter 9.