Chapter 10: Swordsmanship

  “You know, Elian… How about giving up the sword?”

  Will’s voice was steady, almost bored, as he tio observe me. He didn’t even bother hiding his disappoi.

  “You simply have no talent. Just give me what you promised, a’s be doh it.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “You don’t o fight. You’ve already proven how valuable you are as a bcksmith and by fortifying our defeo be ho, I don’t uand you.”

  He sighed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he tinued. “Ask almost anyone in the camp—they would kill to have your position. More food rations, safety, o risk their neck outside.” He scoffed. “Especially now. Everyone’s going crazy. Two students literally ran away from the base, and some hunters refuse to step outside anymore.”

  His words hung heavy in the air, but I kept my focus.

  The only sound in the room was the steady whistle of my sword slig through the air, again and again, as I tinued my training.

  Will watched in silence for a moment before speaking again, this time his voice carrying a rare hint of frustration.

  “You’ve trained so much… yet you still barely uand how to use a sword.”

  And then, suddenly—

  “Finally, I got it!”

  Will blinked. “What?”

  I turo him, grinning like an idiot. “Thanks, Will! I finally uand the foundation of swordsmanship. Let’s stop for today.” Without waiting for a response, I spun around and rushed out the door.

  “Wait! Were you even listening to me?!” Will’s voice echoed behind me, but I was already gone.

  I practically burst into my room, grinning from ear to ear.

  My genius pn? Creating my own swordsmanship.

  Sounds insane, right? Well, yeah, it absolutely was. But in the past few days, I had e to a realization—

  Creation isn’t just about f solids objects. It be anything.

  A actic, a new recipe, a rategy, a new form of art. And if that was true… why not a new sword style?

  For the past five days, I had done everything I could to turn this idea into reality. And I had failed. Over and ain.

  But this time… this time, I could feel it. This time, it would work.

  Or at least, it o. Because if I failed now… I would not only have to abandon my dream, but I’d also owe Will three days’ worth of food.

  That was not an option.

  I took a deep breath and opened my status s.

  [Status]

  Name: Elian

  Level: 13

  Titles: [Divine Mortal]

  Domain: Creation

  Achievements: [First Step iion] [The Phoenix’s First Step] [Giant Syer]

  Attributes:

  Energy: 140/140

  Agility: 26

  Strength: 18

  Endurance: 20

  Intelligence: 28

  Creativity: 40

  Luck: 10

  [Free Points: 0]

  Ability: [Creation I]: 88%

  Sub Ability: [Phoenix I]: 99%

  Divinity:

  Divine Essence: 5

  Faith Points: 0

  [Mission]

  More Details Accessible at Higher Levels

  [End status]

  The style I had envisioned relied heavily on speed.

  That’s why I had ied most of my points into Agility—I could pensate for raw strength with my sub-ability. Creativity was crucial, as this eeique was something I was designing from scratch. Endurance was necessary to keep up the pace, and for Intelligence? I had my title boosting it already, so I left it minimal.

  Two weeks of practice had sharpened my trol over on materialization. The time it took to create a sword had drastically decreased. But it wasn’t enough.

  There was oeique in particur that I o perfect, I :

  Phantom Edge.

  I took my stan front of an open door and summoned a sword in my right hand. The bde appeared almost instantly, a skill I had refihrough sheer repetition and failure. It had takeil just two days ago to reach this level of speed.

  But this teique required more than speed. It required absolute precision.

  The problem? Timing.

  I positioned myself carefully, taking a deep breath. My goal was simple—ssh through the door without the sword actually toug it.

  I exhaled. Then, I moved.

  My sword sshed forward, the motion feeling more natural than ever before. But then—

  g!

  Damn it!

  The sword disappeared half a sed too te, clipping the door before vanishing. Too slow.

  I gritted my teeth and summoned another bde.

  Again.

  I steadied my breathing. Inhale. Exhale.

  I o feel it. My arm. The weight of the sword. The exaent of impact. Everything o align perfectly.

  I reset my stance.

  This time, it had to work.

  I sshed again—

  And at the exact right moment, I deactivated my ability.

  The bde vanished mid-swing, and before my hand had even fully passed through, I reactivated it again.

  “Ha… haha… hahaha… I did it!”

  The sword reappeared seamlessly in my grip.

  It worked. IT WORKED!

  I let out a triumphant ugh, my chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline.

  This is it. This is Phantom Edge.

  By materializing aerializing my on at precise moments, I could make my attacks seem intangible—as if my sword assing straight through obstacles.

  It was fast. Uable. Deadly.

  But… it wasn’t perfeot yet.

  I ched my fists.

  It’s too slow.

  To make this teique truly effective, it o be instantaneous—so fast that my oppo wouldn’t even realize what happened.

  And if I could master that?

  Then my swordsmanship wouldn’t just be u would be unstoppable

  Though, I o refi. I had another idea—ohat I should be able to apply right now.

  I call it:

  Bzing Surge.

  This one would be signifitly harder than Phantom Edge. Unlike my previous teique, this relied almost entirely on my sub-ability. I could already el fire along my bde, but this was different. Instead of simply coating the on in fmes, I o trate all of that power into a single, precise point—a razor-thin point on the edge capable of sheer devastation.

  This teique was inspired by Lay’s ability. In theory, her power was far more refihan mine, but I had been adapting to it over time. The more profit she became, the more I could feel my own trol improving. Of course, I wasn’t anywhere near her level, but at least I had reached a point where I could attempt something like this.

  To be ho? This idea was insane.

  But so hantom Edge, and I had made it work.

  I took a deep breath, my mind fshing back to the moment when I nearly died fighting the wolf. Back then, I had survived by trating my sub-ability into a single point aonating it. This teique was built on that exact principle.

  The goal? A trolled explosion.

  I envisiohe fire energy surging towards the edge of my bde. Slowly. Steadily. The heat coiled through the on like a liviy, responding to my will. My breathing slowed as I guided it towards the precise point of release.

  And then—

  BOOM!

  “AGH—!”

  A searing bst erupted in my face, sendiumbling backward. My vision blurred for a moment, my ears ringing. Goddamn, that hurt!

  As the pain coursed through my body, I instinctively reached for my ability, healing myself just enough to fun.

  But despite the stinging burns on my hands, despite the fact that my own damn teique had just blown up in my face…

  I was grinning.

  Because this time, it had exploded exactly where I wa to.

  It’s possible.

  Now, all I had to do was trol it. Reduce the size. Refihe timing. If I could master this teique, I would have a move capable of dealiating damage against monsters—something Phantom Edge wouldn’t be as effective for.

  Oeique more useful to fuse and disorient human oppos.

  Oeique to obliterate monsters.

  I exhaled slowly, wing as the st of the burns faded from my skin.

  This is going to work.

  …But first, more training.

  I let out a long, exhausted sigh and rubbed my temples.

  I really don’t want to eat another explosion in the face… It's one of the most painful experience I went trough.

  But I had no choice.

  My swordsmanship—my creation—was going to be swift, deceptive, and filled with calcuted traps. Every movement would be a feint, every attack a misdire. The true strike would only e when it was too te to react.

  This was my path.

  No one else’s.

  And if I had to suffer a few more burns to master it?

  Well.

  I could live with that.

  I just hoped I wouldn’t die in the process.