Over the next few days in the forest, Ryu worked tirelessly to clear a section of glowing flowers and algae. He needed a space untouched by natural illusions to properly test the effectiveness of his new skill.
Once the area was ready, he invited the knights to help him assess the boundaries of his illusions. After several rounds of trial and error, Ryu discovered a pattern: the more complex the illusion, the shorter its duration. For example, when he first tried altering the entire landscape, the illusion shattered in under five seconds, followed by a blinding headache. But when he made smaller changes—like adding extra trees or masking paths—the illusion held for at least five minutes.
More interestingly, he noticed that by subtly blocking the senses of the knights—muting sounds or adjusting visibility—the illusion felt more convincing. Soon, some knights began to question whether what they saw was even real.
Initially, Ryu had been disheartened by what seemed like a useless skill. But now? This might just be the most powerful tool someone like him could possess. The realization filled him with hope.
Not everyone shared his enthusiasm. A few knights whispered behind his back, calling him a freak. "He can change your surroundings," one muttered. "Mess with your head," said another. "Who wouldn't be scared?"
Still, others welcomed him. They shared war stories by the campfire, offered food, and teased him like a younger brother. At first, Ryu was awkward, unsure how to respond to their easy camaraderie. But gradually, he relaxed. It was comforting to sit beside these grizzled men and listen to their absurd tales. He never revealed anything about himself, but he didn't mind being part of the group.
Preparations continued around the clock. Some knights sparred under the captain's watchful eye, while others helped Ryu with his clearing. There were constant drills—what to do if a Kolasis appeared, how to retreat, who to alert. Everyone stayed alert, knowing danger could strike at any moment.
A week after arriving at the checkpoint, while Ryu was deep in conversation with the knights, the commander called out to him.
"Boy. Follow me—and bring a sword."
Ryu blinked, confused, then turned to the knights.
They snickered. "Looks like you're his sparring partner today."
"Sparring partner?" Ryu paled. "I've barely held a sword in my life!"
"Don't worry, kid," one of them chuckled. "We'll be waiting here… when you come back crying."
Grumbling, Ryu grabbed a rapier and followed the commander. The man's large frame moved with a quiet confidence that made Ryu's skin prickle.
"So… what's up?" he asked hesitantly.
The commander didn't look back. "You need to learn how to use a sword."
Ryu thought grimly, More like learn how to die, remembering the bruised, groaning knights who had sparred with the captain before.
"I'm sure you've got better things to do. Why not let someone else train me?" he offered.
The commander stopped abruptly, making Ryu bump into his back.
"I see potential," he said simply. "I'd like to oversee your training myself. Got a problem?"
Ryu swallowed hard. "No sir. No problem at all."
They walked in silence until they reached a wide clearing filled with bioluminescent flowers. Small animals hopped through the undergrowth, casting flickers of glowing green and blue light. The whole place looked like a painting brought to life.
"Beautiful, huh?" the commander said, a rare smile on his lips.
"Yeah," Ryu breathed, mesmerized.
He had almost forgotten why they were there—until the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn sliced through the still air.
Ryu turned to see the commander standing five meters away, blade in hand.
"Today's lesson," the commander said, "is how to live."
Without warning, he charged.
Ryu barely managed to raise his rapier in time to block the blow, the force rattling his arms. He stumbled back, panting.
"Wrong," the commander said flatly—and lunged again.
Ryu gritted his teeth, blocking another strike. This time, the impact sent him sprawling.
"Wrong again," the commander sighed. He helped Ryu to his feet, then adjusted his stance.
"The art of fighting is difficult, grueling—but beautiful. You're blocking every strike straight-on. That's why it's hurting you."
He lifted Ryu's arms. "You need to deflect, not absorb. Turn the blade's energy away from you. That's called a parry. Even the weakest fighter can survive a stronger opponent with the right parry."
He demonstrated the technique with slow, precise movements, then stepped back. "Now try."
Ryu nodded, determination flooding his veins.
The commander attacked again. Time seemed to slow. Ryu angled his blade, deflecting the commander's sword to the side. Then, moving quickly, he brought his weapon to the older man's throat—and stopped.
The commander smirked. "Not bad, kid."
Ryu exhaled. "Thank the stars it's over." though there were no stars.
"Now," the commander said, stretching his arms, "do that five more times."
Ryu's smile fell. "Seriously?"
Five turned into twenty. Ryu stumbled, gasped, sweated. He couldn't get the angle perfect every time, and the commander didn't go easy on him. But with each round, Ryu improved. He began to sense the rhythm of battle, the weight behind each strike, the brief openings left in every attack.
Eventually, he collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving.
The commander sat beside him, nodding in approval. "You really are a prodigy."
Ryu gave a tired smile. "If you say so."
"At this rate, you might even learn aura."
Ryu groaned. "Aura? What's that?"
The commander chuckled. "Ah, right. You're not from here, are you?"
Ryu shifted uncomfortably. He didn't answer.
The commander looked out over the glowing plains. "They say when you master a weapon, it gains a glow—a color that matches your soul. That's aura. It enhances your attacks. Some say it makes your blade sharp enough to cut through anything."
Ryu's eyes widened. "That was never mentioned back home… at least, I don't think so."
"Have you achieved it?" he asked.
The commander gave a low laugh. "Not yet."
"Then there's no way in hell I'm getting there anytime soon."
The commander chuckled again, about to speak—when a shrill, monstrous shriek pierced the forest.
Both men froze.
Kolasis had found them.