A serene sight opened up to a front yard with a peach blossom tree. Its pale pink leaves dropped one at a time every few moments.
A leaf detached from the branch and it slowly fell into the pond below creating a ripple in its calm waters.
Muffled sounds came and that was when one look at the boy standing in the shade of the tree.
Lyren had already removed the blue robes and he was left with only the black pants. He had been doing the sideways swings and he had not made much improvement because he was already getting aching muscles after the 70th swing.
Lyren could not help nut wonder why. When he had started with the sword and was going to the woods, it was a short sword but now it appeared like a normal sword.
That was not of the major concern because with his strength from back then when he had no cultivation, he should have felt that the sword had become lighter with his increased cultivation.
This was something he had overlooked and now he was beginning to wonder what secrets the sword was carrying.
His swing started to tire him after the 70th swing and it had been that way case since he started practicing. This was impossible because he was visibly stronger.
This meant that this sword increased its weight with his increase in strength.
His greatest fear was outgrowing the sword but that did not seem to be the case. This went further to increase the mystery about his father.
He had left the sword for him and also, he had disappeared after saying he should go into the woods when he awakened which his mother obliged.
This alone built some rage in Lyren because his father was responsible for his mother's death. He did not want to think about it this way and he wanted to take the blame on himself.
It was his own weakness that had gotten him lost. He took a deep breath and he was also beginning to make sense of some things.
He contained dragon flames. Even the Sect Mistress had commented on his origins. He had heard of dragons only once from the old lady's stories and it was obvious they were strong and arrogant.
He was a commoner who had dragon flames. The chances of him having a sword that grew with him and dragon flames as a commoner were non-existent.
And this brought him to have thoughts he did not want. That would totally shatter the identity he had created for himself. He wore a serious face as he continued his swings not wanting to think about that anymore.
All those swings and he had not yet felt any will emanating from his swings. And he could not help but wonder what it is that he wanted deep down.
Rebuilding the sect was his goal but was that really what he wanted?
Of course, he wanted to do it but what exactly did he want. Why was it that he had refused to die of starvation even when his body had already given in?
At that time, he did not know that there was a sect calling him but he had still stood and rushed into that tree not caring if it was death that was calling him on the other side.
Then he had fought that dragon manifestation of his. He had given it his all and not wanting to bow was not a reason enough not to bow. Wy had he fought back?
Because he was arrogant?
Of course, everyone was arrogant in their own right and he did not really think of himself to be arrogant. It was just in his bones. A commoner who could not bow when all commoners bowed to strength.
That was it. He was a commoner who should have died of starvation but his body had still obeyed him. He had gone hungry for a whole week in the forest all alone but he survived.
He had had fought the dragon as a commoner despite the fact his blood was screaming at him that he should bow.
He wanted to escape his status as a commoner! He wanted to fight with his inferior bloodline in order to emerge victorious. He wanted control.
Yes, that was it! He wanted control over himself. He wanted to be free.
His body was resistant to suppression. The hunger that tried to kill him had ended up taking him to the ruins where he had found the arrays that had become his source of strength.
His commoner blood refusing to bow was his act of rebellion to the dragon that tried to take over his autonomy. It was freedom he craved for.
It was exactly for this reason he had been striving to complete the array so he could leave the ruins.
He had left but he was not given the choice to leave. The same way he had been forced in, he was forced out. This was exactly why he was bitter.
He was denied his freedom.
He wanted to choose to leave and that was why he had worked hard. He wanted his flames to pave a way for him through any obstacle and his sword to cleave a highway for him.
He wanted to slice away the status that had been branded on him as a commoner. Those that were going to stand in his way were going to fall victim of his sword or flames.
His swings were supposed to be free too and unrestrained. That was exactly what the first sword had been like. Fast and destructive properties that had no bound.
He could see the word forming but it was too blurry and at the same time, he swung downwards with aching hands.
His grip loosened just as he had seen it performed and a whistling sound came.
Woosh!
Well, he thought he had done it but it appeared that it was the sword flying from his hands and flying upwards and entangling with the peach tree before it dropped into the pond below it.
Pale pink leaves falling down from the disturbed branches and more ripples forming in the pond.
Lyren looked at this with a defeated smile. That was the first time he had attempted that grip but he had failed terribly.
His aching arms dangled freely. His back arching forwards with his knees slightly bent.
It really was going to be a hell of a ride trying to master the VANTAGELESS BLADE. Now he had to go diving after the sword.
It was sort of a drag but he was going to make sure that he succeeded. The beauty of success lay in the struggle as his mother had once told him.
He was about to start moving when he heard a laugh come from behind him. Again, it was the unwanted maid. He sighed as he had just shown his embarrassing side.
Standing there defeated and unmoving.
"Young Master really is hopeless with the sword. Here I thought that you were formidable. I didn't know..."
These words were like a hot iron rod being driven through his chest. His heart was already beating fast then someone was here to laugh at his hard work.
He knew that he was weak with the sword but was he really hopeless?
The technique had ejected him the first time telling him that he was not worthy. Her words had a sting that Lyren had not felt in long time. He glared at her but his tired look only made her laugh.
"That was a nice throw Young Master, if you are practicing how to disarm yourself, then you really are doing a good job I have to admit.
"I see you are trying to do a hollow grip but you know that it is different from letting go. Forget the whole hand for a second and just lock your pinky and ring finger.
"Once those two are set, the rest of your hand can be as loose as you want it to be and the sword won't slip away.
"Also, practicing with sweaty hands does not necessarily mean that your sword moves will be as smooth flowing…"