Lucas closed his eyes, maximizing his concentration. Since the [Gravar Style] was a lost sword art, no one would notice while he was practicing.
There was only one person in this entire world, who could notice him practicing the [Gravar Style].
Lucas planted his feet wide and gripped the bastard sword. His eyes sparkled brightly as Lucas brought the sword above his head.
Shing! Shing!
The order was simple—swing, again, again and again. The [Gravar Style] required one to channel mana throughout their veins, activating every muscle they had to perform one simple strike.
Once one performed enough repetitions, their muscles would slowly wean and tear.
But, due to the specific way the mana flowed. While the muscle was repairing, the mana would be integrated into it, increasing one's strength inhumanly.
The only problem was that if one made the mana flow incorrectly, their muscles would rip apart in a gruesome way, destroying their body.
It was a dangerous sword art.
"That was embarrassing. I only used three muscles—my deltoid, my pec and my bicep." Lucas muttered under his breath.
Lucas shook his head and repeated the same movement, once again, but this time with more vigour.
The [Gravar Style] had five movements in total, similar to the [Keikei Style].
The first movement of the [Gravar Style]: Heavy Strike.
Just like the sword art, even the names of the moves were simple. It seemed Grandmaster Gravar had no originality.
Heavy Strike, was a form centred around delivering a single crushing blow that aimed at overwhelming all defences and armour. It demanded explosive power and full body coordination.
The [Gravar Style] was similar to the [Keikei Style] in one regard.
The [Gravar Style] built on each form, each movement added synergy to the other. Separately they looked meaningless. But when combined, they would turn into a devastating battle art.
Without taking a break Lucas continued repeating the same movement over and over again.
At first, the slash was simple and easy. But the more slashes Lucas performed, the more his body started to tire.
By the hundredth swing, each slash rattled his bones. By the thousandth, his arms grew numb, his body cried for rest but Lucas continued, gritting his teeth as he persevered.
Lucas lost track of time, the sun's light grew dim as the once bright incandescent light slowly faded, consumed by darkness.
Lucas lost count of how many times he swung his sword, his mind was muddled with pain, his palm blistered and rough. Each clasp caused a jolt of pain to travel through his arm.
His once pale white fingers were now stained with a dark red hue, as blood trickled down ever so slowly. His finger nails had smudges of red that stuck to it like grime.
Lucas stabbed his sword into the ground and leaned against it for support, his back trembled as his arms burned with intensity.
Every breath he took made his chest drown in pain. Lucas clutched his chest in pain before falling to his knees, the dirt scraping against his knees.
Lucas panted loudly, his breath rumbling like thunder.
He stretched his hand out and grabbed his sword for support. Suddenly, a sharp tingling sensation spread through his shoulder and made him arch in agony, his body collapsed against the dirt once again as Lucas writhed in agony.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Lucas yelled in pain, the continuous shocks due to the slashes had probably ripped apart his arm and caused his shoulder to dislocate.
"I told you that your shoulder was dislocated." The same sarcastic voice resounded in his mind as Lucas let out a small trembling breath.
"I didn't hear you." He mumbled softly while picking himself up from the ground. Bellie sighed in his mind, "Little rat, I shouted your name so much that my throat hurts. You weren't paying attention, what could I do? But still, I'm surprised you were able to last this long."
Lucas's eyebrow pricked up as his lips parted into a smile, "That's what she said." He muttered softly causing Bellie to break out in a fit of laughter.
Lucas sheathed his sword with his left hand, and hung it across his back. He grabbed his water bottle and took a quick sip.
The water tasted infinitely better than anything he could ever fathom.
The liquid dripped down to his throat, nourishing his body with renewed strength.
Lucas let out a long sigh and took an extra sip before gathering his things absentmindedly, and prepared to leave, it was getting late.
Lucas glanced at his classmates that continued practicing and scoffed, 'Those idiots don't realise that rest is equally important. Why are they training so hard? Who are they trying to impress? Donna?'
Lucas's attention shifted to his snickering classmates. Some pointed their fingers at him, others pointed it at Ren, they covered their mouth and chuckled softly at them. But it was mostly Ren that faced ridicule.
"Swinging a sword also now welcomes ridicule? It's funny that most of these people are going to end up being background characters who get sidelined by a D ranked monster.
"Ridicule is born from ignorance. Others laugh at a path they can't understand. They band together with people who share their same ideology and interest, creating small groups and shun those who differ from them.
"It is not proof of being better than someone else, but of their blindness and inferiority. To ridicule someone weaker than you isn't proof of strength but insecurity."
Lucas mumbled, to be true with himself. He had to admit that he despised his classmates.
They were green, thinking that they were better than everyone else just because of their talent, because they were the cream of the crop.
They didn't realise that a single moment decided everything. That even one who was vastly weaker than them could end them in a single opening.
Their ignorance of their own weakness caused Lucas to loathe them. They were truly immature, it hadn't even been a week and he had already started to abhor them.
Lucas wasn't trying to place himself on a pedestal, he realised that even he was deeply flawed. He was arrogant, conceited, an asshole and was also the king of hypocrisy.
But that didn't mean he was like them. No, he was vastly different. He knew his own shortcomings, and that was the quality that made him different from his loathsome classmates.
He wouldn't ridicule someone who tried their hardest to close the chasm between talent. No, he pitied them. They were still stuck in the lies of society, believing hard work could overcome talent.
If given a chance, Lucas truly wanted to help these individuals who were dealt a bad hand. Well, there was one person who drew his interest, but then again, it would take years to see if that person was worth investing in. For now, he would maintain his facade of love and kindness.
Lucas shook his head, "What am I going on about." He chided himself and started to leave the training area.
'Let's see, according to the manual. To reach the minor realm of mastery. I need to be able to swing with all the muscles in my body and be able to control each and every one of them.'
Lucas whispered in his mind as he made his way to the exit.
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A/N - I tried to make the chapter more descriptive and more articulated? Is that right? Eh idfc. Do you guys like this chapter more than the others or do you still feel it's the same.
Anyways, do tell whether I should start a dc server. I have decided to focus more on quality than quantity, I personally like this chapter more than the others. I'll try my best to still pump out one chapter every day, but it might be once every two days. So forgive me for that.
My exams are ending tomorrow, so wish me luck.