Lord Alaric stood in the center of the training yard, a simple, steel practice sword held casually in his hand. Opposite him, Sir Eddie Gable's stance was relaxed yet poised, his knightly broadsword a polished beacon in the morning sun. Aina and Elias stood a respectful distance away, their attention rapt.
"I know you're tired, Eddie, but I think the kids could use a little demonstration," Alaric said, his voice easy and familiar, a glint of mischief in his eye. He took a few steps closer.
"It's a bit unfair, though. My son here is still learning, and I'm just a Master. It wouldn't do for a Grandmaster like yourself to go all-out on a simple Master."
Elias's mind reeled.
'A Grandmaster?'
A swordsman of that rank was a living legend. Elias glanced at Aina, whose expression remained inscrutable, her gaze fixed on the two men.
Eddie simply bowed his head, his face a mask of respect, but a quiet tension emanated from him.
"My Lord is too kind," he said, his voice a low, gravelly counterpoint to Alaric's light tone.
"But if I may be so bold, I believe it is I who should ask my Lord to be merciful with his blade."
Alaric's grin widened, a flash of pure, unadulterated cheeriness.
"Fair enough," he said, his casual stance shifting almost imperceptibly.
"Let us begin."
Eddie was the first to move, his form blurring as he dashed forward, his blade a silver line. But it was not a direct attack. Instead, he initiated a series of rapid, intricate feints, his blade dancing and weaving, each movement a misdirection designed to disorient his opponent. He was a whirlwind of false attacks and blindspot strikes, a perfect exhibition of the Phantom Blade Style. Elias realized in a flash of insight that this was a discipline built on trickery and illusion. It was a style for a master of the Cognitive Class, one that attacked the mind before the body. Eddie's movements were meant to break his opponent's perception of the fight, forcing them to see threats where there were none and to overlook the one true, fatal strike.
Alaric, however, did not take a single step backward or forward. He remained in the center of the yard, a solid, unmoving pillar of calm. He was the embodiment of his own Stellar Aegis Style. His sword moved in a series of slow, precise parries and blocks, each one perfectly timed to meet Eddie's feints. He wasn't trying to end the fight; he was finding its rhythm, a still point in a storm of motion. His blade was a subtle conductor, redirecting the devastating momentum of Eddie's attacks with minimal effort. But the rule of balance of the classes also applied to the sword styles as well. Tye various styles and techniques were designed with the class system in mind. His father, practicing the Stellar Aegis Style was of the Cosmic Class while Sir Eddie's Phantom Blade Style was Cognitive. By rule of balance,the Cognitive class was effective against the cosmic class. It could even be deduced from the disciplines of their blades and his father was at a huge disadvantage. While the essence of his combat was to counter attack Eddie was misdirecting and I'm a way dictating the Flow of the fight. Logically speaking,you couldn't block an attack you don't see coming but right now Alaric was doing alright against their head Knight. If anything,Sir Eddie seemed to be the one struggling a bit. For the time being.
'Let's wait and see.'
Elias could sense the subtle sheen of Flow Reinforcement on both men's bodies—a second skin of energy that hardened their muscles and bones, making them impossibly fast and resilient. Their swords, too, were crackling with Flow Infusion, the blades humming with a low-frequency energy that made them capable of cutting through steel as if it were paper. The air thrummed with the clash of their blades, a series of light, musical chimes as Alaric's parries found their mark.
Then, with a lightning-fast movement, Eddie changed his approach. His blade, which had been moving in a complex upward feint, suddenly dropped. He used it then to tap Alaric's sword and pull him forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. With Alaric momentarily off-balance and his guard open, Eddie's free hand shot out, not with a strike of the blade, but a swift, percussive palm to Alaric's nose. The sound was a sharp crack that echoed in the silent yard.
Elias gasped, a flicker of fear and surprise in his heart. His father, the formidable Duke of House Dukker, had just been struck.
Alaric stumbled back a step, a soft, almost theatrical puff of air escaping his lips. He raised a hand to his nose, rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger. He then looked at Eddie and the children, a wry smile spreading across his face.
"Right then," he said, his voice now lower, all traces of the playful tone gone. He ran his tongue over his teeth, the sound a low clicking that Elias had never heard before. "That was a good wake-up call. I believe we should get serious, in front of the kids."
Eddie simply nodded, his body tensing, his sword now held perfectly still in front of him. There was no more casual grace, only focused intent. Both men took a single, deliberate step forward, and in that instant, they vanished.
The training yard was still. The air was silent. Elias blinked, then blinked again, Turning his head to look around but there was nothing there. It was as if they had been erased from existence.
But he could feel it.
He felt the sheer force of their blows, the explosive release of power, as a whirlwind of shockwaves tore through the yard. The ground around them began to show marks—not just slashes, but deep, gouging cuts that appeared faster than he could track. The air itself shrieked, a high-pitched whine as it was displaced by their impossible speed.
Elias's eyes darted around, but they were useless. His mind couldn't comprehend the speed, the raw, unbridled power. It was like trying to track a lightning strike with his bare eyes. He turned to Aina, whose eyes were darting rapidly, following something he couldn't see. Her expression was one of intense concentration, her mind clearly working overtime.
He watched her for a moment, puzzled,then he understood. He closed his eyes, and a wave of calm washed over him. He opened his mind, reaching out with his own nascent Flow. This was Flow Perception, the ability to feel and track the movement of Flow in the world around him. He felt the two swirling vortexes of energy, two impossibly fast currents colliding and separating in the center of the yard. He could not see them physically, but he could see their Flow.
He re-opened his eyes, and now he could see them, but only barely. They were twin blurs of motion, two shimmering distortions in the air, moving in a dance of death. Their blows were no longer a clang of steel, but the thundering sound of pure force, the clash of their swords creating small, localized shockwaves that shook the very ground. They moved as if the laws of physics were mere suggestions, not rules; a single movement of their blades creating a vacuum of air that screamed in protest.
The fight continued for what felt like an eternity, a maelstrom of destructive force contained within a small area of the training yard. Then, with a sudden, decisive burst of motion, the fight came to an end.
Eddie's blur of motion became a solid form. He feinted an upward slash, but in a movement too fast for a normal human to process, he dropped his sword, spun anticlockwise, and swept his leg out. Alaric's feet were kicked out from under him, and the Duke's body began to fall. Simultaneously, Eddie reached down with his hand and caught his falling blade before it hit the ground. With a single, fluid motion, he swung the blade in a wide, lethal arc, aiming it directly for Alaric's exposed neck.
Elias's breath caught in his throat. It was over. There was no way his father could escape. His body was already falling, and the blade was a mere centimeter from his neck.
Then, Alaric vanished.
Not a blur of motion, not a flash of speed, but a complete and total disappearance. One moment, he was falling, the next, he was gone. Eddie completed his motion, his blade slicing through empty air, and in the moment he was caught in the moment of stillness from his inertia, Alaric appeared behind him, his training sword now held in both hands. With a motion so slow it was almost a threat, he brought the blade down. There was a low hum, and the blade stopped, a hair's breadth away from Eddie's shoulder. The training sword, which had seemed to be humming with Flow just moments before, now hung silently in the air. A small shockwave rippled out from the point, causing a few loose stones to rattle on the ground.
They paused for a moment.
"I yield, my Lord," Eddie said, his voice calm and clear. Alaric retracted the sword and sir Eddie straightened, his body once again becoming relaxed, and he bowed his head in concession.
Elias was left reeling, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. He had been watching two masters of their craft, each holding back an incredible amount of power, yet he knew the last moment had been anything but a feint. Eddie's maneuver was lethal. It was a move that no one, no matter how powerful or fast, should have been able to escape. Yet his father had simply… vanished.
That wasn't a sword technique. It wasn't a level of speed or strength. It was an ability. Elias had witnessed the power of Flow Reinforcement and Infusion, but what he had just seen was something else entirely. It had to be his father's true Trait, his primary Flow ability.
His father wasn't a simple master of the Stellar Aegis. His father was a man who could bend the very rules of combat, and Elias was left to wonder, for the first time, what his true abilities were.