Chapter 10 - The Three Styles (Patreon)

It was my first day of training my internal mana. Barcus gave me a time and place to meet him, and I’d done as asked. When I arrived, though, everyone else, minus Tart and Jessie, were already in the midst of training. To me, it felt like I’d misunderstood something.

“Am I late?” I asked.

“Not at all,” said Barcus. He was getting in some practice swings with Garreth. The dull sword clanged and echoed throughout the field.

Bydon was shirtless off in the distance, effortlessly chopping down trees with the giant sword he carried.

Nigel completed a few push-ups and then sprung to his feet. Smiling, he walked in my direction. “Totally are.”

“It’s a change from dealing with Jessie,” I joked.

“She’s still asleep, by the way,” mentioned Barcus with a smile.

Nigel leaned over to my ear. “That’s where he stayed last night. With her.”

“What is their deal?” I whispered back.

Nigel shrugged. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

I couldn’t agree more.

“Let’s get started. Today will be boring and talky, so I asked you to come later. We’ll get in full swing starting tomorrow,” explained Barcus. He wiped his forehead with the edge of his shirt and waved me over. “Just bear with me.”

“Then Garreth and I can go practice over there,” said Nigel, gesturing far away from Barcus and me.

“Not a chance,” said Barcus with a knowing smile. “My words might reinspire your swordplay. Besides, what’s the most important thing to practice?”

“The basics,” droned Nigel.

“Absolutely. Sit.”

Frowning, Nigel plopped down onto the ground in front of Barcus. Assuming I needed to do the same, I copied him and sat in the grass to Nigel’s left. Barcus nodded at our actions and began to speak.

“You’ve got all your rings in record time. That formally makes you a Weaver, and that’s great. It saves time,” said Barcus. “External mana is powerful because of its creativity and unpredictability. Jessie probably already mentioned that, but if she didn’t, there you go. In contrast, internal mana is powerful because of the techniques associated with the fighting style you focus on. We’ll start with swords, but you can use any weapon as you age. Whatever’s comfortable. The logic behind the styles stays the same regardless of the weapon you use.”

I was small, so I favored a short sword that was light and edged on both sides. It usually stayed in my codex until I needed it, much like everyone else. Some people kept daggers on them in case they were ambushed, but most people didn’t bother. It only took a few seconds to pull a weapon out of a codex. Plus, it created a certain element of surprise in combat not knowing what your opponent was proficient with.

“Okay!” Barcus clapped his hands together and smiled at me. “Do you know the three styles?”

“Yes. The Warring style, Chaos style, and Heavenly style. The Warring style is derived from air and is focused on speed and quick battles, making it highly offensive. The Chaos style is derived from earth and enhances the defense the user. Finally, the Heavenly style is derived from water and is defensive and offensive, used for creating openings or using people’s blows against them.”

“V-Very good,” stuttered Barcus. “Well—”

“The Chaos style does better against the Heavenly style, the Heavenly style does better against the Warring style, and the Warring style does better against the Chaos style. However, the actual abilities of the user are most important,” I spat out quickly, regurgitating what I read in the book on mana Jessie gave me. “Fire is not associated with a fighting style. Channeling fire mana internally like the other three elements simply discharges raw mana outward, creating a knockout or paralyzing effect on opponents depending on their mana levels.”

“Yes, fire doesn’t have an associated fighting style.” Barcus clapped his hands together, stopping me. “But I’ll show you how it works, and we’ll move on. Best you know now, given the color of your eyes.”

Nigel flinched. Garreth braced himself. Bydon barely looked over his shoulder.

Barcus focused. His eyes, marks, and bands glowed a brilliant violet color, signifying his use of mana.

Then, the color leeched onto his skin, spanning his entire body in a light, violet hue that took a few seconds to build.

Suddenly, I felt an annoying tingle behind my eyes. Garreth visibly winced and swayed as his hand covered his mouth. Nigel, on the other hand, fell to his knees. Drool slipped past his lips as he threatened to teeter forward and hit the ground.

The annoying feeling suddenly stopped.

“And I only have violet eyes,” explained Barcus. He seemed very tired all of a sudden. “Did you even feel anything?” he asked me.

“I felt a tingle for a second, but it didn’t really bother me,” I admitted. “More annoying than anything, honestly.”

“This is the only power where skill or creativity doesn’t matter. Channel fire mana internally, and your aura naturally pushes out. I have a lower mana threshold than you, so my power didn’t have an effect. If I did it to Bydon, he’d notice, but it wouldn’t hinder him since our mana capacities are the same. Garreth has green eyes, so he’s a step below me. You saw him. He looked like he was going to be sick. Everyone lower than him would pass out if I held it for long enough. Right, Nigel?”

“It felt like a butter knife was fishing for sand in my brain,” grumbled Nigel as he massaged his temples.

“There you go.” Barcus turned back to me and smiled. “People much weaker would pass out instantly. You could put all of us, including Bydon, to sleep in a second if you pushed out your mana for a bit. If you did it for a long time, you’d probably kill people. Be careful. I know you’ll try it, but don’t do it around others, okay?”

“I understand,” I said.

I basically had a counter for every life-or-death fight. If things looked desperate, all I needed to do was channel fire mana internally, and everyone around me would pass out or die. Jessie admitted she only knew of three other people with white eyes in the world. Those were the only people that tactic wouldn’t work on. Besides against them, I’d always have a safety net to rely on when needed.

”You probably won’t want to use it unless you’re certain you’re going to die, though,” said Barcus.

I cocked my head to the side, curious. “Why?”

Blood dripped out of his nose as he pointed at himself. “See me? Huffing after a few seconds? Doing that literally burns your mana, and at an enormous, unsustainable rate. If you do it long enough, you’ll run out of mana and destroy your body. Plus, it’s obvious when someone’s doing it, so you could counter if you had to.”

“O-Oh.” I nodded. “Situational last resort. Got it.”

“Great!” Barcus smiled. “Moving on, each style has a threshold you need to surpass in order to earn a title. You’ll start as an Initiate in whatever style you’re taught. From there, you can become an Expert, Master, Sovereign, Ascendant, and Eidolon. It’s the same titles across all three.”

I nodded, indicating I understood Barcus’s words. He nodded back and moved on.

“Bydon is a Master in the Chaos style. Garreth and I are Experts in the Warring styling, and I am also an Expert in the Heavenly style,” said Barcus. “Since there are two people here to teach the Warring style, and Nigel is also learning it, that is what we’ll teach you first.”

“Very well,” I acknowledged with bravado. “I am looking forward to it!” I thumped my chest with vigor.

“That’s what I like to hear!” shouted Barcus. He looked genuinely happy. “Then, first things first, we’ll need to get you used to using internal mana. The main difference is, instead of pushing your mana out, you circulate it inside yourself of within an object.”

“While mixing it with an element?”

“Exactly. It’ll be a little tricky now that you’ve earned your rings for external purposes, but don’t worry! There is a tried-and-true method passed down through the generations that’ll help you out. I’ll teach it to you now.” He dramatically cast his hand out. “Close your eyes. Think about pooling air mana in your stomach and keeping it there. That’s the first step, so just relax. This is only practice.”

I offered a short nod. “Okay.” My eyes closed, and I renewed the feeling of air within me.

The sensation naturally traveled through my body, looking for an escape. Clenching my jaw, I tried to contain it, but it kept bashing within my veins. It felt like they were growing wider, waiting to burst.

Suddenly, I felt a massive kick to my stomach.

My eyes opened. All the energy within me focused on where I got kicked. I was sent flying. My back hit the grass. I skid for a second before coming to a complete stop.

“Did it hurt?” asked Barcus. His foot was partially in the air. He placed it down.

“Of course it…no?” I realized as I spoke.

The air mana now circulated within my stomach. It felt different from before. Rather than the air moving through my body, my body felt like air. A basin of mana tainted with air sat in my core, and that basin felt like it was tacitly connected to every single muscle group inside me.

“Just so you know, it’s not normal to get it on your first try,” said Barcus. “I knew you would, given how you handled your lessons with Jessie, but still.”

“I got kicked twenty-three times,” grumbled Nigel.

“There, there.” Garreth sarcastically patted Nigel’s head. “She’ll take care of you once she surpasses yah.”

“You’ve got the feeling?” asked Barcus of me, ignoring his brother and teammate.

I nodded.

“You can recreate it at will?”

I tried, succeeded, then nodded again.

“Good!” Barcus pointed at my legs. “Now comes the fun part. You must keep the mana in your stomach and blend it smoothly and consistently into your legs.”

Barcus blurred.

I looked around, surprised.

A tap on my shoulder sent me spinning. I flew around, turning behind me to see Barcus leaning down playfully.

I barely saw him move. It’s like what Nigel did when we fought, but so much faster.

The benefits of being able to do such a thing flooded into my mind. I couldn’t help but grin.

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“Go again,” uttered Barcus. “Feel the shift within you. Let the energy rock inside like gentle waves.”

“Right,” I replied, my voice just as defeated. “Cause that totally made sense.”

I laid on the ground in a skid mark of dirt. For what felt like the thousandth time, I’d failed to shift the energy to my hands, hit the dirt, tripped, and collapsed before I could attack my target.

It had been a few days since I started training as a warrior. Unlike my time with Jessie, things advanced at an average pace, which bothered me. I was so used to being special that constant failure was starting to bother me.

In particular, I couldn’t use a move called Rapture. It was considered one of the strongest moves in the Warring style. A person wasn’t even considered an Initiate unless they could do it once. Learning something new took time, and I was on the right pace. That’s what Barcus said. Still, it pissed me off.

Rapture was basically a speed blitz, but the way I needed to move the mana to my legs then arms wasn’t clicking. I could maintain wind mana in my core all day without getting tired. That was easy. Moving it into my legs or arms alone was also simple. It was quickly shifting between the limbs that gave me trouble.

Watching me fail started giving Nigel some unearned confidence. In sparring, he would thrash me pretty handily. His weight and size were big factors, and the fact that my body couldn’t keep up with the wealth of sword-fighting knowledge trapped inside my head pissed me off to no end. On top of that, Nigel could perform Rapture, and I couldn’t. Granted, he had a head start on me in training, but I couldn’t help comparing myself to him and seething. He, on the other hand, continued to act kind and nice. He even offered to help me, the nerve.

Pouting, I stood and walked back to my dirt mark as I prepared to perform Rapture for the twentieth time that day.

You suck. You suck. You really suck. Shift it from your feet to your hands. All it requires is timing. Run, plant, shift, swing. That’s it, you absolute idiot! Just do it! Holy shit!

Clenching my jaw, I circulated mana in my core and altered its affinity to wind. Instantly, my entire body felt lighter.

Slowly, I pushed that feeling down to my legs. I took a step and sprinted, unnerved by the drastic change of pace the Warring style now granted me. My target, a homemade scarecrow on a stick, mocked me as I effortlessly closed the difference between us.

Set your foot.

I planted my front foot into the ground.

Now, move the feeling into your arms.

I cut off the air mana in my legs and…slammed headfirst into the scarecrow. Both of us flopped to the ground.

“You okay?” asked Barcus in a muted tone.

I stopped tears from leaving me as I stood up, my legs shaky and my body caked with dirt. Wordlessly, I set up the scarecrow again and paced back to my starting position.

I took a stance, readied my sword, lifted it, and—

“What the fuck?!” I slammed the weapon into the dirt, picked it up, and repeatedly smacked it against the ground. “Why…can’t…I fucking…do it!” Frustration flowed out of me like blood from a cut. “I run, stop, cut off the mana, and—”

“What do you mean you cut off the mana?” asked Barcus. He wasn’t looking to intervene in the slightest until I said those words. “It’s like a wave. You rock it into—”

“I don’t work with that flowery bullshit!” I yelled, frustrated. “Tell me what to do step-by-step, and I’ll do it. I don’t need hand-holding or poetic language. Just tell me what to do. Shit!”

I soon attracted a crowd. Nigel and Garreth had stopped sparring to stare at me. Bydon was glancing at me from his daily tree-chopping practice. Even other adventurer groups nearby were starting to look our way.

Realizing what I’d done, my face glowed red, and I ducked my head. “I-I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m annoyed at myself because I suck.”

Barcus laughed. “You don’t suck, you’re frustrated. It’s okay.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s change tactics, alright? What works for Nigel won’t work for you. He needs examples, but you’re logical. I should have noticed that. I’ll try to be more like Jessie. Give me a sec.” Barcus paused for the longest time. He stared at me with a hand under his chin. I watched him squint, cock his head, then eventually nod. “Your core is the base. For Rapture, all you’re doing is lending mana to your legs, getting into position, returning the energy to your core, then snapping it immediately into your arms. Mages have to cut the element and shift to raw mana to control it. Warriors don’t do that. We flow the element we’re using throughout our bodies, circulating it constantly in our cores and sending it where needed. It never cuts off unless a fight is over or we’ve run out of mana.”

I instantly knew exactly what I’d done wrong as soon as Barcus finished speaking.

Wordlessly, I took my position in front of the scarecrow like I’d done many times before and got into a stance. Air mana flowed in my core and reached my feet. Once again, the scarecrow seemingly sneered at me as I barreled toward it.

When I was in striking distance, I stopped. I made the air mana glide back into my core and blend into my arms as I swung. My power and momentum from my legs immediately shifted from my feet to my hands like it was attached to my mana.

My sword effortlessly lopped off the scarecrow’s head.

I’d completed a Rapture.

“I was overthinking it,” I realized as I stared at the dummy’s fallen head with a blank expression. “I was treating it like a spell rather than an enhancement. Stupid.”

“No, it’s my fault. I was teaching you like Nigel, and he couldn’t learn under Jessie. You’re the opposite. Should have realized that,” said Barcus. “Everyone’s different. Gotta focus more on the individual,” he said to himself as he limply laid back in the grass. “Congrats. You’re a Warring Initiate.”

I tried Rapture once again, and it was perfect. Still, I felt numb after practice.

That feeling carried me into my afternoon lessons with Jessie.

“What’s with that expression on your face?” asked Jessie. “You look like you died.”

“A little,” I admitted. “On the inside.”

“I heard you finally learned how to perform Rapture. Good for you.”

“Can you do it?”

“Not at all. But I can counter it easily.”

“How?”

Jessie cast her hand to the dirt. There was a delay, and then the ground before her turned muddy.

Copying Jessie, I coursed earth mana through my veins. Rather than push it out, my internal mana, flavored with the power of earth, latched onto the existing earth outside. It began manipulating the natural, similar energy at my whim. It felt like dunking my hand in a glass of water and feeling for the chunks of ice floating within. All I needed to do was grab the “ice” and create a connection.

With the connection established, I manipulated the ground with my raw mana and altered it into a bog the size of four people on the ground.

Why am I trying to learn how to use a weapon when I can do something like that? No, no, I shouldn’t put myself down. I got it on the first try when Barcus explained it right. My fault was not realizing the difference.

“Fighting someone with speed? Get rid of the ground,” explained Jessie. “That’ll work on most practitioners of the Warring style. Unless they’re a Master.” She stared at the bog I made. “In my opinion, you’re probably one of the most gifted external mana users I’ve seen in a long time. You can always quit your sword work. Join the winning side! Be like me!”

“It was your idea to learn both,” I replied. “Besides, I’m invested now.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes and no,” I admitted without much pushback. “Honestly, this is the first time I’ve struggled to learn something in my entire life. Pisses me off. Then again, once it clicked, I felt fantastic. It’s weird.”

“Failure is a part of life. It’s good for you to taste it so young,” said Jessie. “And because of it, you narrowed down the problem, corrected it, and moved on. Next time something bad happens, you won’t scream and throw a hissy fit.”

“Sorry…”

“Well, it’s nice to know you have a bit of personality to you,” teased Jessie.

“Ouch.”

“Kidding!” Jessie paused. “Kind of. You’re young. You’re supposed to suck at stuff and make mistakes. You’ll fail more times than not. It’s the little things that give life its luster. Good food. Good people. Beautiful art. Amazing scenery.” She pointed at me. “Live a little. Try to have fun.”

“You sound like my mother,” I grumbled.

“Guess she’s a smart, beautiful lady.” Jessie flipped her hair dramatically. “Good for her.”

So humble…

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Two weeks passed. I could effortlessly use Rapture whenever I wanted, and my body was getting stronger.

Even so, I couldn’t close my gap with Nigel. It seemed like he was growing taller and getting stronger every day. His blows were harder to handle, and his kindness pissed me off more and more every time he beat me. I’d have preferred gloating, honestly. Each time he beat me, Nigel would pick me up, apologize, and point out things I could have done better.

I wanted to cut his arms off every time he spoke. Fortunately, the Trailblazers started taking Nigel with them on low-level missions. He was technically a member of their group through the Guild, and I wasn’t, so I wasn’t allowed to participate. It gave me plenty of time to practice independently without interruption or criticism.

Thunk!

My arrow hit the center of a makeshift dummy Quintin made for me when I was younger. It hit the head, pairing with the two other arrows I’d already fired near that spot.

“Maybe I’m meant to fight at a distance forever,” I thought as I admired my skills.

I sent a fourth arrow into the dummy’s head, prickling its artificial face with wooden shafts. After that, a fifth arrow left my bow. It landed right between the other four arrows I’d arranged in a near-perfect box in the dummy’s head.

“I’m still pissed, though. If I could just use mana with the bow, then—”

Oh. Wait!

I fueled air mana into my arms. The speed at which I could notch and release an arrow doubled.

“That’s helpful,” I muttered. “Faster, but not as accurate,” I assessed as I stared at all the slightly-off-the-mark hits I’d made. “Still doesn’t change the fact I’m useless at close range. Doesn’t make me any stronger.”

Annoyed, I headed toward my house and peeked through the kitchen window to see how dinner was coming. Amalia was slowly cooking food while Quintin sat calmly in the kitchen. Neither noticed my presence.

“Go get her,” ordered Amalia.

“She’s only been out there a few minutes, and the food’s not ready yet. Give her a bit more time,” replied Quintin. “She needs to blow off some steam. Barcus says Yen’s getting frustrated. Nigel’s beating her pretty consistently at this point, and he says he can sense it’s starting to eat at her.”

“Is there any way you can help?”

“Not from me, no. He’s teaching her the Warring style, and I never liked it enough during my military training to keep up with it. Hell, they wouldn’t let me once they saw my skills with the Heavenly techniques,” gloated Quintin. “I mean, it’s just better. If you stop a Warring user’s first attack, they’re easy to handle. Then it’s just down to skill. Heavenly style’s harder to learn but precise and powerful. An equalizer, honestly.”

“Teach it to me!” I shouted, pointing at Quintin.

Quintin jolted with a start while Amalia stumbled forward and nearly knocked what she was cooking to the floor.

“Sorry!” I apologized, excited. My gaze focused intently on Quintin. “Speed isn’t enough to beat Nigel. I need an edge. If the Heavenly style is what you say it is, I want to learn it. Please.”

“I don’t know…”

“You said it yourself. We have time.” Amalia nudged her head at the door. “Go. Your daughter’s asking for your help.”

“O-Okay.”

Quintin soon found himself in the setting sun holding a practice sword. He uncomfortably scratched the back of his head while I stared at him with sparkling eyes, waiting for his wisdom.

“I feel bad teaching you something without talking to Barcus first,” admitted Quintin. “Might disrupt his training process. We are paying him.”

“Nigel beats me four out of every five times we spar, and soon, he’ll beat me five out of five. I don’t care about Barcus. I just want to get stronger,” I replied quickly. “I get the importance of training in the Warring style. It has value. I’ll keep practicing it, but I still want to learn something different. Just increasing my speed isn’t helpful, and Bydon won’t teach us the Chaos style cause of our ages. Barcus hasn’t even offered to teach me the Heavenly style, but it’s all I have left. This is important. Now…Heavenly style. What do I need to know?”

Quintin sighed. “Right. Well, I can’t blame you for your frustration. I wouldn’t say I liked the Warring style either. It didn’t mesh with my personality.”

“Your personality? Why would that matter?”

Quintin crinkled his brow. “Using internal mana of a certain element affects your senses.”

“It does?”

“Haven’t you noticed?”

“Nope.”

“Air clears your mind and narrows your focus,” said Quintin. “Try it.”

Curious, I circulated air mana in my core inside my body. Sure enough, I felt the myriad thoughts bouncing around in my brain dim until only the world around me mattered.

Oh. That explains a lot. I can see why this works for some people, but I hate it. It’s better for people who move on impulse. I’m too much of an over-thinker.

“Water mana heightens your senses, and that ability gets better as you train,” said Quintin. “Circulating air makes you feel faster, and earth makes you feel sturdier. Water increases your reaction time and flexibility, so the Heavenly style is based around parrying, blocking, and creating openings for powerful deathblows.”

That might be exactly what I need.

“Give it a shot, yeah? If you can use the Warring style, you can already internalize elemental mana. Instead of air, use water now.”

Nodding, I changed the feeling of air in my core to water.

“How does it feel?” asked Quintin. His words came out much slower than expected.

My inner thoughts expanded. Planning became easier. My thoughts were more fluid. Everything around me looked clearer. Sounds were more precise.

Why haven’t I tried this with any of the other elements? I guess I’ve been so focused on the Warring style and my current failures that the thought hasn’t really come to mind.

I stopped the flow. “I like that. How do you fight with it?”

“You pool your mana into your weapons,” explained Quintin. “The Warring style is a total body enhancement. The Heavenly style is a weapon enhancement. In that respect, the Chaos style sits in between the two.”

Quintin walked over to a woodpile by a stump we used to make firewood. He put a log on top, grabbed his axe, and split it in half. “That’s a normal weapon. When you use the Heavenly style, your weapon gets enhanced.” Quintin tossed aside the axe and held out his hand. “Even your hands.”

I watched my father place another block of wood on the stump, one much larger than the last. He primed his hand. Green particles bloomed and floated out of his palms like dusty fireflies. He swung down his hand and split the firewood as easily as he did using the axe.

I clapped.

Smiling, Quintin bowed. “Always appreciated.” He grabbed his practice sword. “And if you use a weapon, the effects will be even greater.” He placed a third piece of wood on the stump and swung.

His attack split the wood and the stump underneath and slashed the dirt under the stump.

I want it.

“Just think of it like water’s filling a hand-shaped cup,” I told myself. I circulated mana in my core and altered it with water.

“It’s the same as the Warring style. Circulate and move it into the area you want to enhance,” explained Quintin.

I immediately visualized my sword as an outgrowth of my palm.  

“Don’t worry. It’ll take a few tries for you to get the—”

“Got it,” I said. White particles rose from my hands. “That makes so much more sense.”

“A-Ah! Good job,” said Quintin. His face marred with surprise. “That’s…That’s great. You did that on your first try. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Like I said, it makes sense.” I paused. “How does this work for weapons? They’re not a part of the body. How do you conceptually pool mana into them?”

“Well, you need to—”

“Visualize them as extensions of myself?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“How is that any different from external mana?” I wondered. “Oh, you’ve got to maintain the connection to your core, right? Or at least your hand. Circulate the mana from the weapon to the core like you’re bonding it to yourself, right? Hold on. I’ll try it out.”

I snatched the practice sword I usually used off the ground and funneled mana into it. I could feel my mana pool into the weapon, but it also felt like some energy chain was still connecting the sword to my body. Little particles beaded from the practice blade.

“Oh my Gods,” uttered Quintin. “How?”

“Can I put this in a projectile?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “Like my bow?”

Quintin nodded his head. “O-Oh, yeah, it’s the same way.”

“But when the arrow leaves my hand, it’ll lose the connection to my body.”

“B-But it’ll have a mana charge and strengthen your arrow. You can try it if you—and she’s already picking up a bow.”

I notched an arrow, filled that arrow with mana, and fired. The connection to my hand snapped, but I didn’t feel the energy return to me. Instead, it left with the arrow.

The head of the dummy, the one I’d used for years, burst apart when my arrow hit it.

“Interesting. And I lose the mana when it separates from me. Then again, I’m losing mana every time I fight with the style, so there isn’t much of a difference,” I reasoned. A smile overtook my face. “Nigel’s in for it now.”

“Yen, sweety?

“Yes, father?”

Quintin peered at me wearily. After a while, he crouched down and held my shoulders. “The Gods gave you your gifts for a reason. I don’t know if there’s anyone like you in this world, and I’d say that even if you weren’t my daughter.” He stared at me. “What do you want to do with the power you’ve obtained, Yen?

“I wish to go on a brutal massacre of all the humans who ever wronged me,” I said in a dark, quick voice.

Quintin’s eyes widened, and he flinched.

I laughed. “Just kidding. I couldn’t care less.” I paused. “I don’t know. I just want to feel safe.”

Quintin’s voice filled with religious undertones. “Don’t you feel called to be something more?”

“Nope!”

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Nigel and I stood across from each other. He’d killed his first monster with the group and had gloated about it all morning. I congratulated him, obviously, but it was starting to get old.

Throughout the morning, we continued with our usual training. Barcus and Garreth corrected our strokes, and we funneled air mana into our cores. After that, we took a break and worked on additional uses and scenarios for Rapture. Finally, before lunch, we ended things with a sparring session.

“I’ll go easy on you, okay?” said Nigel as he got into a stance. The worst part was that he didn’t even mean his words to be sarcastic. They just felt that way.

“And I’m going to kick the shit out of you!” I said in a cute, sing-songy voice. “So shut the fuck up and come at me.”

“Someone’s become very cocky all of a sudden,” noticed Barcus. “Very well.” He snapped his fingers and pointed between me and Nigel. “We’re looking to disarm or check your opponents. No deaths or brutal injuries, please.”

I stared at Nigel like he was a prime cut of meat. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Nigel grimaced. “You’re acting weird.”

“No, I’m just a sore fucking loser, and I’m over it.”

“Uh…”

“Begin!” shouted Barcus.

Nigel readied his practice sword, braced into a stance, and soared at me.

Rapture? He wants to finish this in one shot, then? Predictable. A pity.

Water mana channeled in my core. A portion of it fueled and circulated through my weapon. Particles of white mana floated off it, but I cut them off soon after. Going that far was overkill. All I needed was the sensory enhancement.

Nigel’s speed was nothing to my eyes. He might as well have been jogging. I watched the flat of his blade aim for my hand.

Finally.

Using my superior perception, I followed his blade. When he was in range, I placed the tip of my sword on top of his and used its superior reach and build to push him down. The sound of wood rang as his blade forced away from my body and his, creating an opening.

I quickly released some of the weight, slid the blade up to Nigel’s neck, and held it there.

Everything was quiet. Nigel stared at my sword as his hands holding his grew limp.

I relaxed my grip, released Nigel, generated a ball of water in my right hand, and threw it in Nigel’s face. “All done.” I stared at Barcus. “I’m better now.”

Bydon, Barcus, and Garreth all stared at me.

Barcus walked over to us. He ushered a surprised Nigel away then glanced at me. “Were you using the Heavenly style?”

“Yes,” I quipped.

“When did you learn it?”

“Last night.”

“Of course you did. Shit,” muttered Barcus. “Whatever you say, kid.” Barcus rubbed his fingers through his hair, obviously stunned yet very excited. “You’re the best kid I’ve ever taught. I mean, do you know how incredible this all is? Who the hell are you?! Hahaha!”

“I just think the Heavenly style fits me better, is all.”

“I can see that! Hahaha! Alright. Screw the Warring style. I’d feel confident calling you a Heavenly Initiate. We’re gonna focus on that. You didn’t use it on Nigel, but I saw mana particles in your weapon for a second. If you can do that without issue and harness your senses, you’re definitely on the right track.”

“And I can. Easily.”

“I saw. I’m only a level higher than Initiate, but it takes a lot of effort to reach Expert in any fighting style,” said Barcus. “It is the difference between an average person and a true warrior on the path of greatness.”

“Just tell me what I need to do. I’m sure I’ll figure it out in a day or two,” I said with a dark smile.

“Ha! Doubtful, but I’d love to see it.” Barcus grinned evilly. “You want to become an Expert in the Heavenly style? Easy. There’s only one thing you need to do: cut mana.”

“What?”

Barcus motioned at himself. “Hit me with some elemental mana. Come on.”

“But—”

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

I manifested a rock into my hand. It hovered centimeters in front of my palm. My mana carved into it, shaping one end into a sharp point. Aiming at Barcus, I fired the pointed rock in his direction.

It should only hit his shoulder.

Barcus pulled out his sword quickly. His eyes followed my attack, and his sword did as well. Violet particles condensed around his blade thicker than I’d seen myself or Quintin perform. They looked like snowflakes on his blade.

The blade met my spell.

Where the sword connected, my spell began to shatter into particles. The entire creation then disintegrated, splattering like mini fireworks where the blade made contact.

I stared in awe as I examined the endless possibilities of such a skill.

“Before we leave Sandy Branch, I’m gonna make you learn that,” said Barcus.

I nodded blankly.

“Ha, cute.” Barcus stabbed his blade into the dirt and leaned on the hilt. “Here’s why this whole thing is remarkable.” He had a savage grin on his face. “What do you think it means when a highly proficient Externalist can also cancel out other Externalist’s spells?”

The implication dawned on me. Soon, Barcus and I held the same scary expressions on our faces.