The next morning, Eleanor promptly returned to training.
There was no time for breaks, and no use in trying to seek one out.
Masaru Kurogane's opinion could not be changed, and neither could Aaron's.
He, like the black-haired man, had insisted that their training was of the utmost importance and that time was limited.
That isn't true though… We have another month basically…
Certain that they would have until around the end of December, she had been preparing and spreading her training as such.
Nonetheless, her friend had continued to push himself to his limit every day as if it might be his last.
That idiot. Why can't he just take a break?
Behind her, the sound of Rudiger's heavy body against the snow met her ears.
After the incident involving the undead man and the activation of the Emblem of Circe, all the serious injuries covering her body had been miraculously healed, including the damage to her hearing.
Therefore, other than a few scratches around her neck where the man had gripped her, she was perfectly fine.
Unlike before, though, Rudiger followed closely behind to make sure no other 'guests' decided it was wise to intervene with a defenseless child.
Even without the creature's presence, she would be fine, as this time, she had brought that golden sludge known as Aether along with her.
Lacking mana to stabilize its shape, it had contorted itself around her chest as an almost secondary layer of protection.
Regardless of how resilient it might be, the extra warmth was nothing to scoff at.
Otherwise, the routine remained the same, with even the location where she had banished that man remaining identical.
Sitting down slowly, she closed her eyes and felt the world around her grow silent and calm.
Her mind opened itself to the storm's jeers and tormented screams, allowing her focus to once again be tested.
Gritting her teeth hard, she forced herself upon the darkest memory that stayed at the heart of her consciousness.
One that had plagued her since she had met the blond-haired boy all those months ago on his own Ghostship.
Out of all possible scenarios of despair that she had witnessed at the mercy of the Vortex of Despair, the one that sought to unravel her the most was the thread about the manipulation of that child at the hands of a monster.
The God Slayer, a being so dangerous that it could slay immortals, played an endless game with the boy's life and his actions.
The deity inside his head, the same one who had originally slain Eleanor, taunted him with fragments of his past and then withheld the rest.
The Hunters' Guild that wished to force him into their plans and indoctrinate him into a global war that wouldn't spare the innocent.
These three forces were the largest she could identify, and if she was going to bring Aaron's life out of that perpetual darkness that he faced, then she would have to conquer these obstacles in his name.
Today, the priestess from Sea Fallen would fight the despair of weakness against sheer, unrelenting, and overwhelming strength.
…
Breathing.
Heavy.
Hard.
Cold.
There was a feeling of dread that overcame their very essence, suffocating the person that they were.
The emblem engraved into their neck burned harshly as they attempted to dissect their own memories and thoughts.
They fought back against the will of the Vortex of Despair and sought to unravel the plan of the beings that stood behind it all.
There was no telling what their motives were; however, this person could make assumptions based on everything that they had seen.
First, Aaron Grimstall's preliminary mention of the man he called 'Lord', but later changed to 'Old Man,' began only after the Ghostship's evolution.
After a core was absorbed into his flesh for the first time, he spoke of a world of nothingness where that elder sat.
He depicted him as a figure of immense strength, but also wisdom far surpassing even one's wildest dreams.
It was something too good to be true to that person, and they would only continue to feel an unusual sense of dread when it came to that figure.
They would end up meeting again in the mausoleum underneath Sea Fallen in an unusual situation in which he granted one of their wishes.
It was the first time they had spoken face to face, and it was a date that none should forget.
That would bring in the second piece of the puzzle.
A being that could only be considered a god, one who inhabited his mind and did as it pleased to reach a goal without an end.
That thing would stop at nothing to hold the boy's memories under lock and key, even resulting in executing them for trying to gaze upon them.
After that, the world brought them to the Great Beyond, where tales of that Old Man were propagated in secret, and any who spoke of him were left in a pitiful state.
When he spoke to them in a dream, he spoke of divinity and the way to his escape from his hellish prison.
He spoke of Aaron Grimstall and their connection to him.
And a world where the gods fell into the hands of a monster.
The Wanderer, otherwise known as Nautilus, despised the God Slayer with his entire heart, even offering them help to destroy the elder's plans.
Death said the same: that the God Slayer was a monster who needed to be controlled.
It was the opinion of many, and one that they shared readily.
But these were merely the divine factors.
There were others that they could rationalize more simply.
Whether it be the Hunters' Guild and their obsession with the boy to have a new rookie in their midst at the time of war, or the Oceanic Association, which would snatch up a new Ghostship Wielder into their hands at a moment's notice.
For them, it was all about greed.
And the greed of humans, regardless of how foul and unpleasant it was, was as predictable as anything else.
She could sense that heavy wall within her mind breaking even just a bit, and as such, she opened her eyes.
For now, she had decided to look no further into her own mind, at least, on the topic of the game of Grimstall's life.
No matter how intelligent or forward-thinking she could try to be, there was nothing she could do to anticipate what the divine beings behind the scenes were planning.
Some tasks simply couldn't be solved, and this was merely one of them.
Nevertheless, as she checked the clock in her pocket, she allowed a small smile to appear on her lips.
Six hours, once again, completed.
…
"For the second aspect of your training, you will distance yourself from what you have already been taught."
Masaru paused, taking a piece of paper from his pocket and reading it aloud.
"Form One: Ocean's Delta. Form Two: Dawn's Wave. Form Three: Aquatic Rift. Form Four: Wall of Waves. Form Five: Tidal Surge. Form Six: Piercing Droplet. Form Seven: Aquatic Ladder. Form Eight: Swell. Form Nine: Edge of Tomorrow. And finally, Form Ten: Spear of Wave."
Aaron nodded quietly as he counted each of the techniques that he had written before the first part of his training.
They were the altered forms that he had created alongside Camilla Buckley throughout their time together.
Each was built upon an original technique, whether that be Ocean's Delta corresponding with Ancient Sword's Rising, or Spear of Wave and Ancient Spear of Iron.
While they would clearly be different if performed separately, anyone who had studied the Ancient Swordsmanship style would instantly recognize it as an offshoot of an original.
"Do you know the problem with these ten combinations?"
The swordsman spoke again, snapping Aaron out of his daze.
"I do not…?"
He hadn't expected to be shunned for his quick learning of the blade and adaptation of a hard-to-learn close combat style into one that was fitting for longer distances.
Rather, he had almost anticipated the opposite reaction: praise for adapting the techniques.
"The problem is that you do not understand these techniques at all."
Aaron's brow furrowed, and he immediately interjected.
"How can I not understand if I can use them all perfectly well?"
The black-haired man's lip twitched.
"There is a difference between understanding and usage. I can turn on a light within Thorn's city, but I do not know how to make my own. I can steer a vessel through the sea, yet be unaware of the direction that currents take me. I can teach you the way of the sword without knowing anything about your Ghostship or your uniqueness."
He paused, looking the boy straight in the eye.
"What you must do is create something of your own. Enough with relying on Camilla's handiwork. Fashion your own path to the soul you so desperately wish to reap if it means protecting that girl and all your other friends."
The turquoise-eyed boy froze, his mouth falling open slightly.
"Forge… A new path?"
The man nodded and pointed towards a door he had not yet opened.
"Head down into the cellar and train there. You will have everything you need to develop what I request."
As if following the cabin owner's command, the door creaked open loudly and allowed the light from a staircase to grace the boy's eyes.
He stood there for a moment, examining its existence, then turned towards his mentor.
"How will I know when it is up to your standards?"
His eyes met the man's, and a strange tingle flashed between them.
Masaru's lips curled up slowly as he shrugged his shoulders, which simultaneously caused his armor to rattle.
"Where would the fun be if I told you now?"
And with those words, he vanished from the room and back into the kitchen.
There was nothing more he said to Aaron as the boy began his march towards the eerie set of stairs that descended many levels down.
Nevertheless, it was clear to the teenager at the time what the man meant by his words.
He wants me to push myself to my limit, not hit some standard.
Grinning, he took the first step into the darkness, disappearing into the depths.