An old man stood in the center, gripping a long sword. He swung it once, slow and steady, but the air rippled around it, as if the very world bent to accommodate the blade.
Leo was wide-eyed, jaw dropped.
"Okay… that's cheating. You didn't even make contact with anything."
Anos, with a calm yet sharp voice, replied, "Not cheating. This is the Kaelion family art—the Eclipse Sword Style. It doesn't cut flesh; it cuts through the space that contains it."
Leo blinked in disbelief. "So… the sword doesn't actually kill the enemy? The universe does it for you? Great. That's totally terrifying."
"Pick it up," Anos instructed.
He tossed Leo a training sword. Leo fumbled, almost dropping it, but then clutched it tightly with both hands.
"Alright. Let's give it a shot."
"First stance. Keep your feet steady. Let the sword become an extension of your will."
Leo attempted to mimic Anos's stance. His arms shook, and his grip was far from perfect.
"Swing."
Leo swung clumsily. It was weak and harmless.
Anos didn't sigh, though Leo could feel the weight of his judgment. Instead, he lifted his own sword, swung it once, and a branch several feet away split cleanly, cut yet untouched.
Leo's eyes widened. "Okay, now you're just showing off again."
"Brat, do it again."
Leo swung. Nothing. He swung again and again. Sweat trickled down his forehead. His arms shook.
"Don't force it," Anos advised. "Space doesn't respond to anger. It bends to clarity."
Leo closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He reached for that faint spark he had sensed before, that strange current beneath the surface of the world. For a brief moment, he connected with it.
He swung.
The air shimmered slightly as the grass bent without the wind, then it disappeared.
Leo froze. "Wait… did I just—?"
"You touched it," Anos confirmed. "Barely. Again."
Anos thought."Hmph. This brat… incredible talent, yet every step comes with a complaint. If he put half that energy into focus, he'd already surpass most men."
The next hour was filled with nothing but swings. Strike after strike, failure after failure. At one point, the sword nearly cracked under the strain, and Leo stumbled back, gasping for breath.
"That was closer," Anos said, his tone flat.
"Closer to breaking my arms," Leo mumbled, rubbing his shoulder.
"Second stance," Anos continued, disregarding him. "Void Step."
Leo groaned. "You can't be serious."
Anos moved suddenly. One step forward—and then he vanished.
Leo spun around in panic. "What the—?!"
Anos's voice drifted from behind him. "Not teleportation. A fold in space. Movement within Eclipse."
Leo turned to see Anos standing a few feet away, sword resting casually on his shoulder.
"In battle, this is deadlier than anything else. You will learn it."
"Yeah, sure," Leo said, dropping his sword and collapsing onto the dirt. "Right after I figure out how to keep my arms from falling off."
Anos sheathed his sword. "A Kaelion doesn't quit because he's tired. He stops when he's dead."
Leo groaned into the dirt. "Always so inspirational."
Training wrapped up at dusk. By the time Leo dragged himself back to camp, his body felt heavy as lead. His muscles ached, his palms were raw, yet his mind was racing.
Eclipse Sword Style… it's genuinely terrifying to think about how powerful this old man is. I can't even imagine what the outside world might hold...
That thought lingered in his mind long into the night.
Later, feeling restless and sore, Leo climbed higher up the mountain slope. The air turned colder, and the moon rose above the treetops, casting a silver glow on the rocks.
That's when he stopped.
On a flat stretch of stone ahead, he spotted someone. A girl.
Her hair, dark as midnight, shimmered faintly under the silver glow. She wore simple robes, but in motion they looked like rippling water. Her face was calm, almost serene—until her eyes snapped open.
She moved with a sword in hand, her steps light and graceful. It wasn't a fight; it was a dance—her blade gleaming under the moon like liquid silver. Each swing left faint trails of light in the air, as if the very flowers followed her rhythm.
Leo was entranced. He had never seen swordsmanship like this. It was graceful, fluid, alive. Every strike was beautiful—and terrifying.
She spun around, her hair catching the moonlight, her eyes closed in perfect concentration. For a fleeting moment, it felt like the mountain itself was holding its breath, watching.
Leo shifted his foot, and a loose rock crumbled beneath him.
The sound was quiet, but it was enough.
The girl halted mid-motion, her eyes snapping open—bright, sharp, and as cold as steel.
Slowly, she turned her blade toward him.
Leo froze, heart racing.
The silver light of the moon glinted off the edge of her sword. Her posture was flawless, her gaze unyielding.
"Who are you...?"