Days passed in a blur. Sword swings echoed under starry skies. Kelton occasionally offered comments or adjustments—but mostly, he watched. The boy had become a force unto himself.
Three months later, Ash stood at the river's edge once more.
Kelton's arms were crossed, a rare look of disbelief on his face.
Ash sheathed his blade. "Alright. Sword stuff? Handled."
"…Handled?" Kelton repeated, incredulous.
Ash smirked. "Unless you've got another trick. C'mon old man, gimme the next test."
Kelton cleared his throat. "The next step is… sword aura. But that's something you have to find on your own. I can't help you comprehend it. Everyone walks a different sword path."
Ash tilted his head. "What's yours, then? Show me."
Kelton hesitated—then nodded.
He floated above the river, raising his hand. His aura unfurled like a curtain.
HUMMMM!!
The world shifted.
A blood-red sea stretched to infinity, swords piercing its endless surface like gravestones. It radiated silence, power, and the weight of countless battles.
Ash's Eyes of Infinity sparked. His irises shimmered with rotating infinity symbols as insight poured into him like water into an open cup.
He spoke without thinking.
"The Endless Swordsman… a blade without destination. No final stroke. Just… a journey. The sea… is the goal."
Kelton flinched. "What… did you just say?"
But Ash's mind was elsewhere.
He looked back at Kelton, a spark of mischief returning to his voice. "Hey, Old Kelton. Do me a favor," Ash said with a grin as he spread his arms as if asking for a hug.
"Hit me with your Aura."
"Absolutely not—are you insane?!"
But before Kelton could fully refuse, a melodious, feminine voice echoed into his mind from the void.
'Just do it. He can handle it. But don't kill him.'
Kelton paled. "…Yes, ma'am."
He raised a finger—his power restrained to less than a flicker—and released a single sword arc laced with his aura.
It struck Ash between the eyes.
He dropped like a rock.
"Shit—!"
Kelton's panic barely had time to rise before the skies split apart, torn by radiant beams of divine light. Ash's body, lifeless a moment ago, began to pulse with energy. From deep within his core, arcs of light erupted outward, casting long shadows across the river.
Above, infinity symbols spiraled into the air like celestial script, shimmering with iridescent colors. The ground trembled beneath Kelton's feet. Even the water in the river recoiled as if in reverence.
He stumbled back, eyes wide. "W-what the hell is this...?"
The beams of light slowly began to condense, their shape warping—twisting—until they mimicked the form of Kelton's own Sword Aura, albeit in its nascent stage. It wasn't just imitation.
It was absorption.
Ash had absorbed the essence of Kelton's sword aura.
Not copied. Not mimicked.
Absorbed.
Kelton's mind raced. 'That's impossible. Sword aura is born of the soul—it's an imprint of a cultivator's entire path. No two sword auras can be the same....'
And yet… this boy—this brat from some obscure, backwater galaxy—had done it.
He understood. He resonated. He became.
Thanks to his Recursion, Ash's body adapted fast enough to handle the torrent of foreign power trying to overload him. His Eyes of Infinity saw through the very core of Kelton's aura, stripping away the fluff and grasping its essence. And finally—perhaps most importantly—he walked the Path of Becoming. An ever-evolving existence, unbound by rules.
Kelton exhaled slowly, still stunned.
For three weeks, Ash remained unconscious. Suspended between rebirth and annihilation.
And then, the light faded.
Ash stirred.
His body jolted slightly, and his eyes fluttered open—calm, clear, and deep. There was no visible injury. No fatigue. His Recursion had once again carried him through what should have destroyed any other being.
Kelton stood over him, arms crossed.
Ash sat up and yawned.
"Phew! That was nuts…" He stretched like he had just finished a nap. Then looked at Kelton and smirked. "Sooo, has anyone else ever awakened sword aura in just—wait."
He paused.
"…How long was I out?"
Kelton couldn't help the dry chuckle that escaped him.
"Just a few weeks. Nothing major."
Ash blinked. "Damn, thought it was longer. Alright then—trial complete?"
Kelton nodded. "Yes. And with it, you've earned something unique. The key to this realm."
He gestured, and a glowing crystal formed in the air between them.
"You'll be able to return here when you're ready… but not until you've stepped into the Domain Forging Realm. The next trials require far more strength."
Then he waved his hand, summoning a set of elegant bottles, each etched with glowing runes.
"These are cultivation pills, gifted from someone who's taken a strong interest in you. They'll help you push into the Spiritual Foundation Realm when the time comes. But don't show them to anyone—not even your closest allies. These pills are rare even in my world."
Ash took them, eyes gleaming with mischief and awe. "Noted."
He looked at Kelton curiously. "What about you? What'll you do now that I'm done dazzling your old bones?"
Kelton grinned. "Haha! Brat. I've been stuck in this realm for who knows how long, waiting for you. Now that my task is over, I might travel the universe. Maybe crash some tournaments. Slice up a few arrogant bastards. You know, stretch my legs."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "You're like a wandering swordsman… but galactic edition."
"Exactly."
There was a pause.
"Will I be able to find you again?" Ash asked, more seriously this time.
Kelton reached into his robes and pulled out a glowing black token, shaped like a jagged sword and pulsing with ancient power.
"This is the sect token for the Sect of Endless Swords. If you ever leave this galaxy—and you will—use this to find us. Either I'll be there… or someone who knows where I am."
Ash took it, holding it gently.
Kelton looked at him for a long moment, then gave a small nod. "We'll meet again, Ash. And next time… maybe you'll be the one teaching me something."
With that, his figure shimmered—and vanished into golden motes of light, scattered by the wind.
Ash stood alone atop the mountain, the Token of the Endless Swords in hand, and the weight of new power resting on his shoulders.