Banda stood on edge, ready for a fight. The top half of the monster was that of an old man. A haggard body with wiry muscles and wrinkled skin.

  He was bald, with a long wispy white beard that flowed from his elderly face down past his waist. Bushy eyebrows drooped over such that it practically covered his eyes, with the ends grown out long down to hang down the sides of his face.

  The horse half that took the place of his legs was as gaunt as the rest of him, his leathery hide as wrinkled as his skin. And in his right hand, he held a simple spear.

  “How many years has it been…?” Paron asked. But a thought seemed to cross his mind, and a trace of steady confusion followed. “When were you get caught?”

  Banda whipped stone without waiting for another word, but the centaur shattered it with an effortless flourish of his spear. Banda lunged and clawed at the opening, but Paron blocked it firm. The armor technique that coated his spear did not shake even slightly.

  “You wield your aura so poorly…” Paron commented, more observation than insult.

  Banda feinted left but spun right to attack his unguarded horse hide, but a thrust of the spear forced him to dodge away.

  “Your grasp on combat is lacking…”

  Banda’s eyes sharpened further. The creature was far too skilled and he knew far too little about it. He lowered himself and slowly stalked around the centaur.

  “What to do…” Paron mumbled to himself. “As with all things… I suppose it is best to begin with the fundamentals…”

  Banda sensed mana swell within the centaur, but its form did not change.

  “You have the violence of the currents…” Paron spoke. “But not its obedience. That is why your body swells wastefully. Turn the torrent into a myriad of channels and weave it through at all times.”

  Paron raised his spear out straight. “Armor… should be firm. As unyielding as a mountain.” A thin layer of aura spread over the spear and held perfectly stable.

  The centaur suddenly flickered before him in an instant and thrust his spear. Banda deflected its blade on reflex but the spear still sliced deep past his iron hand. Banda burst back into a crouch as red blood dripped on the wet soil.

  “True mastery of mana lies beyond paltry spells…” Paron casually walked towards him, as Banda felt a trace of intensity seep into his tone.

  Paron blurred to his side again and unleashed a flurry of strikes that took Banda everything he had just to dodge. “Mastery does not come with delay… Don your armor. Hold your spear true. The enemy will not indulge your weakness.”

  Paron spun his spear and struck the blunt end into Banda’s gut. Banda felt the wind hack out of his lungs and refuse to draw in more. His desperation flared as he burst back beyond the trees, and the forest fell silent.

  “Oh…?” Paron took notice of the Suppression executed so perfectly that even his senses could not find a trace of his aura. “Splendid. But… Hiding alone has never won any battles…”

  The silence held for a while, broken by a rock that shot out from the fog. Paron shattered it with a flourish and the forest fell silent again.

  Second rock shot out from another side, then a third from elsewhere and a fourth again with no rhyme nor reason to its source. More and more rocks flung out at lethal speeds, but Paron deflected them all without taking a single step.

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  Paron turned his head to see a broken tree sailed towards him. He raised his spear but a runestone shattered the tree into splinters before he could act.

  Banda blurred from the other side under the cover of the distraction, surging with aura and feral might.

  “A fair strategy…” Paron blocked his iron claws again upon the wooden shaft of his spear with ease. “But the fundamentals are not so easily overcome…”

  Paron whipped his spear to send the debris away with a blast of wind. Danger assaulted Banda’s mind but before he could react, Paron’s spear pierced deep into his heart.

  Banda’s expression frayed as he burst away, but the blood and pain he expected never came. Instead, his body was filled to the brim with stamina and aura. He glanced at his chest that held no wound to be seen, and then to Paron as the green glow of the centaur’s spear faded.

  “Come…” Paron spoke. “Don your armor and spear.”

  Banda’s eyes narrowed. The sight of something stronger before him grated on his mind, but there was opportunity in it. If he could not defeat this monster, then he would learn from it until he could.

  ---

  Eres opened her eyes to a wondrous sky. Swirls of glowing clouds and stars both solitary and clustered into constellations, all amidst a canvas of dark blue that seemed to stretch on without end.

  Beneath her feet laid the boundary of nothing itself. A firm ground, despite its appearance. The space within this Training Shrine held miraculous grandeur beyond mortal comprehension, but her expression was absent of awe and her focus intensely inward.

  “Magic… is an endless path.”

  Eres turned her attention to voice from her side. Its source a woman in azure spiritual form, who floated gracefully above.

  “There are as many possibilities as the stars in the sky and more. You have passed the test of resolve, child. Now your imagination will be put to trial. How deep can you delve into the infinite art?”

  Knowledge struck Eres like lightning, as the theory and expertise of magic circles filled her mind. A full and complete array of mastery up to the sacred grade.

  Eres’ thoughts swam through the sea of insight with keen desire. The theory of circles and all that encompassed were more than meets the eye. Simultaneously structured but contradictingly flexible. A blend of freedom and control that resonated deeply within her.

  “Be warned. The granted knowledge is temporary.” The Training Spirit spoke again. “The needs of the body are irrelevant here. You will remain within the Hall until a new art as high as the sacred grade is created. But beware. Time flows here just as it does outside.”

  Eres’ eyes narrowed with cunning at the wording. “What counts as a ‘new’ art?”

  “One that you do not yet have, and one that has not yet been created.”

  Eres smiled. In but a few moments, she used the knowledge of circles she had been granted to reconstruct her Giant Palm Blast art.

  It was neither new to her, nor was she changing it into something else. It was always this art, and she was merely fixing its flaws.

  The martial circle snapped firm and Eres released a blast into the void of the sky. It was about three times more powerful than the low-grade Palm Blast with a blast range 5 times greater.

  Not as powerful as the largest blast she had managed against the daod, but it was stable and consistent now, and its aura cost less wasteful.

  Eres glanced at the Training Spirit who showed no reaction, as she expected. With that small detour finished, she began to contemplate the art she intended to create.

  She had told Banda that she had something in mind, but that was only half true. She had only traces of concepts. A blurry path she wished to walk, but a hazy vision was not sufficient here. She need to make it clear.

  Eres was weak. Far too weak. She knew that better than anyone. But might was only part of her ambitions. This art would not just be a tool of power, but a catalyst to change her fate.

  With that in mind, she contemplated the forms in which such a power might take. Chains, perhaps. Domination and tyranny. Unbreakable restraints. Chains to suppress mana or to weaken.

  Eres’ enthusiasm drifted. It felt too limited. Rigid. She thought instead of threads. Threads to guide and lure. Threads to entice and manipulate. Threads to weave into cloth to cloak and veil. A canvas upon which to embroid all she needed and all she wanted.

  Eres felt that inadequate as well. Too delicate. Fragile. She felt she should aim higher. Something that would allow her to transcend all obstacles.

  Hands, she thought.

  Hands to forge metal into chains and weave silk into threads. Hands that break and build as she desired. Hands to pull down the gods above and crush all those below.

  Mana surged with her intense will as the myriad of profound lines began to swirl into a circle. And in the air above, the Training Spirit silently watched on with focused eyes.