The Black Swan settled into the docking station of Shimmersteel, an elegant and large circular port capable of housing at least a dozen vessels of its size. Tunde stepped off the ship, with Sera in tow, not needing to carry any bags as all his possessions were safely stowed in his voidspace. All around them, merchants bustled, engaging in discussions and haggling over goods in large wooden crates and other seemingly exotic items being ferried to and from the vessels surrounding them.

  It was a sunny yet cool day, the cobbled stones of the dock shimmering slightly under the sun’s rays. The winds blew softly, carrying a medley of scents. The first thing Tunde noticed was the remarkable number of adepts and lords moving around them. Where such a sight was still something of a rarity in Black Rock, here they seemed to be ordinary people simply going about their daily business. He turned to observe Isolde, who appeared to be deep in conversation with a fat, portly man dressed in obviously expensive yellow robes. Tunde observed their discussion quietly while keeping a vigilant eye on his surroundings.

  The large gate to Shimmersteel itself stood in the distance, the docking port on the outskirts of the city but still protected by the high walls and the formation barrier that the Black Swan had shivered as it passed through. It spoke of how seriously they took security. Behind the man were two large guards dressed in brown robes with blades at their waists, staring down at Isolde, who completely ignored them with an air of indifference.

  There was no need for Tunde to step in; Isolde had been handling these kinds of negotiations for a long time, and frankly, he was eager to get going. Chewing lightly on a stalk of grass he had plucked from between the cobblestones, Tunde waited until they were finished, Isolde sighing as she turned to him.

  “Bargaining for the prices of our common and uncommon crystals took a while, but we’ll be getting spices and some other items in return,” she said.

  “Sounds like a good deal,” Tunde observed.

  “It is,” Isolde agreed. “Seeing as I’m heading in the direction of the capital, it wouldn’t be bad to gain a few more exotic items along the way.”

  They both glanced at Sera, who was still staring intently at the gates of the city proper. Isolde turned back to Tunde. “Think she’ll be alright out there in the world?” she asked.

  “I was fine,” Tunde responded.

  Isolde nodded. “Except you were cautious. She’s not.”

  Tunde shrugged. “We’ll see,” he simply replied.

  Isolde sighed. “I guess this is goodbye?” she asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

  Tunde glanced at her, a soft smile on his face. “Indeed, but only for now,” he replied as they embraced.

  “Be safe out there, Dark Fist,” Isolde whispered. “The world is big and filled with powerful cultivators.”

  “And another one will soon join them,” Tunde said confidently as Isolde chuckled.

  Tunde watched her leave, the Black Swan powering up. Sera was suddenly at his side, arms folded. “Time to see what Shimmersteel is made of,” she said as Tunde turned and began marching towards the city gates.

  *****************************************

  Gaining entrance into the city was easy, thanks to the pass Isolde had given them and the payment of fifty lumens each. The first district they came across was the trading district, bustling with dozens of shops and loud, animated people moving about. Tunde’s priority was to find some form of headgear to conceal his features and avoid standing out. In a place like this, being noticed could quickly become a liability.

  They found a stall selling various miscellaneous items and picked up a reed straw hat, which effectively shaded Tunde’s features before they continued their stroll. Tunde was impressed by the abundance of elixir and manual shops in the area. There were also numerous food stalls with sweet-smelling aromas wafting through the air, alongside weapon sellers displaying their wares. His naginata was still safely stored in his void space, so there was no need for another weapon. Still, Tunde couldn’t resist the urge to browse through the shops and appreciate the merchandise.

  As he ran his hand over some of the blades and spears, he frowned. “You have good eyes,” Ifa observed. “They are a mixture of Ethereon and normal steel,” Tunde noted. “Yes, and they probably sell for an arm or a leg, I would reckon,” Ifa replied as Tunde stepped back, turning his gaze to Sera, who seemed impatient.

  “You don’t want one?” he asked curiously.

  “I only have a thousand lumens to my name,” she replied. “Besides, Slaughter is all I need,” she finished, patting her side where the blade was sheathed.

  Tunde chuckled as they left, heading deeper into the trading district. The tall signboards of various establishments caught his attention—from alchemists and Rejuvants to individual schools of weapon arts that Tunde found fascinating.

  He found himself drawn to a building labeled “Flowing Sword Style”; the wooden door opened without a sound as he stepped inside, eyes scanning the interior. The space was crafted from smooth, polished brown wood that gleamed in the sunlight, and a distinct, sweet-smelling aroma permeated the air. His eyes settled on the figures training within the round stage. Barefooted, they wielded wooden longswords and moved with precision, following practiced steps.

  “This is... new,” Sera said softly at his side as they drew the attention of an elderly man who regarded them with a thoughtful gaze.

  “Fighting styles were just beginning to develop during my time,” Ifa said in his mind. “Different cultivators, drawn to particular weapons, chose to study their chosen weapon in-depth rather than rely solely on the arts born from their concepts.”

  The explanation made perfect sense to Tunde, yet he wondered why someone would forsake the raw power of concepts in favor of a weapon.

  “I’m guessing they have affinities related to these weapons?” he asked Ifa.

  “Sometimes, yes. But more often than not, they choose to separate their weapon choice from their affinities or concepts,” Ifa replied as Tunde nodded to himself.

  “Good day, young ones,” the elderly man said as Tunde bowed at the waist, nudging Sera to do the same.

  “We greet the elder,” Tunde said softly, and the man chuckled.

  “Respectful! I haven’t seen you two around here before. Are you visitors?” he asked, and Tunde nodded.

  “We’re from Black Rock, just close to the borders,” he replied, and the old man’s eyebrows raised. “We were sent by our sect to see this beautiful city and understand its customs.”

  “Ah, I see,” the man in the light blue robe replied, rubbing his white beard. “Then you have come to the right place. Does the sword interest you?”

  “A bit. Although I must confess, I use a similar weapon. My companion here uses a blade, and seeing a school of blades for the first time has indeed caught our attention,” Tunde responded.

  “You don’t have schools of different weapon styles where you come from?” the old man asked.

  “I’m afraid not, sir. We’re a new sect, forged from what remained of Jade Peak,” Tunde responded as the man nodded.

  “A shame what happened to the Verdan clan. Then again, betraying the empire only leads to one result, you see,” he said as Tunde nodded. He noticed the practicing swordsmen had paused in their training and were sizing them up—adepts, all of them.

  “Then I assume you only cultivate your battle and cultivation arts?” the man asked, and Tunde nodded.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “In that case, a demonstration is in order,” the old man said with a hearty laugh as he clapped his hands together.

  “Acolytes of the Flowing Sword School, we have honored guests from more... primitive areas, if you’ll forgive my words, young one,” he said, and Tunde bowed, suppressing the flash of anger that passed across his face.

  “It is of no need, honored elder. You speak the truth,” he replied, and the elder laughed heartily.

  “Good, good! Now, which of you will kindly show our guests the way of the flowing sword?” the old man asked as hands shot up eagerly.

  Tunde couldn’t help but feel a mix of eagerness and anticipation as Sera folded her arms and stared down the acolytes. He wondered what about them screamed weakness, but it would be interesting to see how far he could test their skills—and his own—in turn.

  *****************************

  Given a Bo staff, Tunde stepped into the sparring ring with a tall and hefty lord realm acolyte who grinned excessively, revealing his eagerness to inflict damage on Tunde. Tunde, in turn, said nothing, merely twirling the staff in his hand as he familiarized himself with its weight.

  "Schools generally forsake affinities in favor of aura," the old man said as Tunde glanced at him. "Like the pitiful nulls whom Ethra seems to have forsaken, but are blessed with an abundance of aura, we seek to hone our weapons and aura first before Ethra affinities," he continued. "But seeing as you’re new to this, I permit you to use your affinities," the old man finished.

  Tunde shook his head and bowed to him. "I thank the elder," he replied, "but I am here to learn, and I will do so to the best of my abilities by following the rules of your school, using aura and weapon alone."

  The old man laughed, "What a respectful young man! Go easy on him; he is here to see the superiority of the flowing sword style," the old man told the hefty figure, who nodded distractedly. The elder’s disdainful look when Tunde mentioned his origins was not lost on Tunde, and he knew this match would be a test of more than just skill.

  "Begin!" the elder said as the lord flashed towards Tunde, wooden sword flowing seamlessly through the air. Tunde parried in a series of quick movements, observing the flow of the blade with surprise etched across his face. The acolyte’s attacks were quick, swift, and slippery, like trying to grab hold of a fish. The blue hazy aura around the wooden weapon gave off the essence of the ‘flowing’ styles it employed, even as Tunde struggled to fend off the acolyte, who chuckled before doubling down on his attacks.

  Compared to what he was used to, Tunde found it surprisingly manageable to match the speed of the attacks. The acolyte was equally surprised, realizing he couldn’t easily overpower Tunde. Despite the acolyte’s quick maneuvers, Tunde was determined to find a pattern to the sword style being used.

  "You refrain from using Ethra sight," Ifa observed silently, as though he, too, was enraptured by the acolyte’s movements.

  "Study the style, please," Tunde said with a strained voice, taking a hit to the shoulder. He blanked out the pain and retaliated by slamming the staff into the acolyte’s jaw, pushing him backward.

  An audible murmur spread through the ranks of the other acolytes around them, who began to regard Tunde with a newfound respect, realizing there was more to the lord before them than they had initially thought. Tunde slammed the butt of the Bo staff into the wooden floor with an audible thud, pondering the duel.

  "Your flowing sword style doesn’t just attack its opponent head-on. It finds ways around the opponent's techniques, slipping away at the right moment to use the force of the opponent's techniques against them," he said, as the old man looked on with intrigue.

  "Go on," the elder encouraged.

  "Therefore, the greater the strength of the opponent's technique, the more devastating the effect would be if a strike from the flowing sword meets them. Of course, training your aura is essential to ensure it becomes as sharp and lethal as possible to take advantage of these moments," Tunde explained.

  The elder clapped in approval, much to the large acolyte’s irritation. "We follow the tenets of water, much akin to the Acacia clan’s affinity," he said. "We do not strike with force but with the ease of a swordmaster who accepts the flow of the battle," the elder explained.

  "Does this mean this school is related to the clan itself?" Tunde asked.

  "In a way, all water and sword techniques within Shimmersteel derive from the numerous techniques of the patriarch of the Acacia clan. This style is merely a pale imitation of one of his numerous battle art techniques," the elder explained.

  Tunde nodded, preparing to leave the ring and bowing to the elder. "I thank you for the lesson, venerable elder, on behalf of myself and my sect as a whole," he said.

  The elder laughed, "No, no, think nothing of it, young one," he replied.

  "We haven’t finished," the large acolyte growled, as Tunde hid the smile on his face, watching as the elder froze.

  "I have to admit, that elder knows how to play to the scripts," Ifa observed. There was no way the elder would let him leave after Tunde so rudely showed that he could stand up to the flowing sword style. A mere lord from the borders fighting to a stalemate with a powerful school of the clan would be difficult to dismiss.

  Tunde stood straight, glancing at the acolyte. "I apologize if I have offended you; I meant no such thing," he said.

  "We haven’t finished our duel. Apology or not, a duel is a duel," the acolyte said, as the rest turned to Tunde with hard faces. Tunde couldn’t blame them; accepting defeat would incur the elder’s wrath, and Tunde suspected the elder was a Highlord or higher. He glanced at the elder, who spoke, "Will you disrespect our guest so?" he asked the acolyte, who bowed.

  "I apologize, great elder, but he cannot grasp the full scope of our sword style unless he sees the complete flowing sword style, can he?" the acolyte said, as the elder seemed to ponder dramatically.

  Tunde’s eyes turned to Sera, shaking his head slightly as he saw her hand begin to stray toward her blade, halting her movements. He had this covered.

  "My acolyte speaks true, young one," the elder said. "Perhaps we shall see this duel to the end and with a wager as well?" he asked as Tunde blinked innocently.

  "Of what sort, venerable elder?" he asked.

  "If you defeat my acolyte, I will grant you a thousand lumens. Should my acolyte win, you will study the flowing sword style for as long as you remain in Shimmersteel," the elder said.

  Now it was Tunde’s turn to ponder silently, even as he already knew his response.

  "Ifa?" Tunde asked.

  "From what little of the sword style I’ve seen, it’s trash, or rather, an imitation of an imitation," Ifa responded.

  "You’re saying even the patriarch’s technique is copied?" Tunde asked, surprised.

  "No, if I believe what I’m seeing, whoever opened this school isn’t teaching them the actual imitation of the flowing sword style they know, or rather, the crude form they learned," Ifa explained.

  "Meaning we can break it down?" Tunde asked.

  "And form one suitable for your naginata style as well. But I would recommend not disgracing the elder in his own school; you don’t want to offend someone with ties to the Acacia clan if your aim is to stay under their radar and avoid drawing attention to yourself," Ifa advised, as Tunde nodded.

  He turned to the elder, nodding as he spoke. "Then I accept the wager and place myself under your care, venerable elder," he replied.

  The elder laughed, clapping his hands together. "Good, good! Now, let us begin!" he said as the acolyte sprang into action, his sword now glowing with the blue aura that enveloped its form.

  This time, Tunde coated his Bo staff with his own aura, a dark grey power that flowed around the staff. As their weapons met, the impact halted the blue wooden sword in place. The jarring strike caught the acolyte off guard, as Tunde’s aura began to eat away at his opponent's aura, disrupting the slippery form of the staff and putting more pressure on the acolyte, who poured even more aura into his weapon. The two clashed dozens of times in a mere minute, their weapons releasing audible cracks with each meeting.

  Tunde let his body feel the flow of the battle, immersing himself in it as Ifa pointed out the mistakes of the style to him, even without the use of Ethra sight. He spotted an opening and decided to take it, fully aware that it might be a trap. The sword slammed into his shoulder, but he anticipated the acolyte’s aim for his ribs. This misdirection gave Tunde the advantage and chance he needed to strike.

  His first hit landed on the acolyte’s knees, causing him to stumble back in obvious pain. Tunde followed up with another strike to the ribs, bending the acolyte to the side with a grunt. He then poured more power into the staff, lifting the hefty acolyte into the air, surprising everyone around them before letting the acolyte slam back into the ground with a heavy thud.

  Tunde pretended to heave, stumbling back with his hands on his knees, rolling his shoulders with an obvious wince, even though he felt no pain. He enjoyed the silence in the room before walking towards the acolyte, who was trying to raise himself with a look of shame.

  Tunde stretched out a hand to help him up when the acolyte suddenly attempted to strike at him with an aura blade formed in his palm. The elder was there before Tunde could react, grabbing the acolyte’s aura blade hand and halting its movement. He then gave Tunde a cold smile. It was clear now—the elder was a Highlord, and Tunde could feel the immense strength of his presence filling the room.

  "Told you," Ifa said in his mind as the elder spoke. "Oh my, it seems this acolyte of mine has disgraced my school and caused me to lose face," the elder said, even as Tunde watched the dawning look of dread on the acolyte’s face at what he had just done.

  Tunde bowed, "No such thing, venerable Highlord. Perhaps he took my movements as a sign of aggression; such misunderstandings can happen," Tunde replied calmly.

  The Highlord rubbed his beard thoughtfully before releasing the arm of his acolyte, who scrambled backward. "I believe a wager is a wager," he said.

  "Forgive me, Highlord, but this duel has been more than enough. The knowledge you have imparted upon me is sufficient to last a lifetime," Tunde responded with another bow.

  "Oh? Do you reject my gift, then?" the elder asked.

  Tunde stifled a sigh of frustration. "If it is a gift, then I have no cause to reject it," Tunde replied as the Highlord laughed.

  From the elder’s void ring, a small pouch materialized. The Highlord handed the pouch to Tunde, who felt the weight of the item before sending it into his void ring. Tunde bowed again. "If it pleases the elder, we will be taking our leave. So many places and sights to see," he said.

  The elder nodded, waving them away. "Go, and may your journey in Shimmersteel be enlightening," he said.

  Tunde and Sera left the school, walking briskly until they were well out of earshot.

  "He moved faster than I could follow," Sera said softly. "I barely even realized he had done so."

  Tunde nodded. "Highlords for you," he replied calmly.