CHAPTER 86

  THE AGILE SWORD STEPS

  “Ah man! Not again?” Flatlined to the ground, Hans complained. “Just how is he doing that?” He observed there was no aura used; Dietrich was just fast. He glanced at his exhilarating Ancestor. “Damn it, he is enjoying this, isn’t he?”

  “Stop badmouthing me and stand up, foolish descendant. This is just beginning to become fun. Entertain this Oldman, will ya?” Once again, Dietrich sent a manifested sword, and Hans caught it like previously.

  “Do you enjoy bullying your younger generation, ancestor?” Taking support from the watery sword, Hans stood on his two feet.

  “The more you lose, the more your brain works to find a solution, kiddo. If you can just start stimulating the latent power of inheritance, you’ll start to see the path to victory.”

  “I already know the path, dear ancestor.” Whined Hans. “It’s just that I know when to block, but your strikes are unblockable. I know how to counter, but it’s too heavy to deflect. And when I see the gap, you are too quick to counter. What am I supposed to do now? This is just like bashing my head to the wall. You are just a bad match.”

  “You remind me of Armin. He was just like you — impatient, but he soon began to see the answers. I’ll give you a hint— You are focussing too much on my sword. Try focusing on something else.” Dietrich stabbed the ground as if he was trying to lead Hans’ eyes.

  “Oh! I was an idiot,” Hans sighed, a smile slowly forming on his face. He lamented his decision to prepare himself again, realising he wasn’t even doing what he was good at.

  “Yes,” Dietrich confirmed, raising his sword on the agile stance he was using since the beginning. “He who forgets what he has for that he has not ultimately loses both. Defence will never be your strong suit. You are an elf now. Start thinking like one.” He demanded Hans to perform solid and lunged ahead.

  “He is right —Phew!” Hans calmed himself. “It was your steps— duck!”

  Dietrich’s sword touched the air as Hans quickly squatted down. “The answer was evasion—Swing!”

  Hans threw himself back, avoiding Dietrich’s sword by a long width. “Now I’m getting this.” Evading, he tried mixing a strike but got his rear handed to him the very moment.

  “Today’s lesson will be all about dodging.” Said Dietrich, pulling the sword back from Hans’s neck. “Try anything funny, and I’ll serve you flat to the ground.” He paused, explaining, “Watch my steps. Try imitating them. There’s a fundamental flaw, but it’s also their main strength.”

  “How? I can’t even see you move until you reach my neck.” Hans complained, standing up again.

  “Our clan…family has created this technique. Start finding them in your memory. Surrender your mind and only follow your instinct. The answer is just there for you to grab—”

  “But it feels like cheating. I want to try it on my own.”

  “Not using your gifts is a fool’s errand, descendant.” Dietrich paused again, “These things weren’t created by a single individual. They’ve evolved in generations to generations. There will be plenty for you to work on later.”

  “If you say so.” Hans convinced, finally letting go of any thoughts on how to receive an attack, evade, dodge, or block. Surprisingly, it was easy to surrender to his instincts. He lowered his sword a little and in the next moment—

  “Clang!” Dietrich was behind him, striking a diagonal slash at his back, which was now met with Hans’s sword.

  “See. That’s what I was talking about.” Dietrich picked on speed, but as if Hans was possessed by something, he was effortlessly evading and blocking him. His body knew, his instinct felt, the presence of Dietrich before he even moved. “Left, right…above…right again…now below.” He kept mumbling and blocking Dietrich’s sword.

  The attacks which felt heavy to block were getting blocked effortlessly. His body was using inertia and Dietrich’s movement against him.

  “I’ve changed my mind. You are a quick study. Try attacking me now.” Dietrich commanded, and as his words parted, Hans was already close to him, copying those dancing steps.

  Dietrich, an inheritor and far more capable than Hans, successfully deflected Hans’ sword. However, this time, Hans didn’t let go of his sword. By loosening his grip a little and using the massive force generated by Dietrich’s vertical swing, he caused his sword to turn a full circle. An upward swing so fast that almost reached Dietrich’s chin and broke his own shoulder. This was the closest he ever got, and even the pain on his shattered right couldn’t hide his joy.

  “Now you are fighting like an Inheritor.” Dietrich scanned Hans’ broken shoulder. “Heal first,” he said, and Hans followed.

  Drinking an expensive potion was only his choice now. He missed having his unlimited heal-ready photonic powers.

  Dietrich, on the other hand, started stating his weaknesses. “This is a brand-new body. It is like a blank canvas. Everyone has a unique style of wielding a sword. Some have immense power like Rudolf and your friend Chris. Some are more technical like krosh arts. What type of swordsman do you want to be, kid?”

  “I guess you already have something in your mind, ancestor. It’s not bad to follow an elder’s advice. As long as it has high damage output, I’m down with anything.”

  “So. You want to continue with the Agile sword?”

  “There must be a reason why you started with this, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Dietrich nodded. “But there is an obvious flaw in this sword technique. You already understood and exploited it. Don’t you?” He asked.

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  “Yes, ancestor. It’s the pattern in which you move. I couldn’t see anything but when I let go of my vain thoughts of understanding and trusted my body. I began to see your movements or more of predict where you’d be and what you’d do.”

  “The person who is experienced or a talented freak like Zephyr would be able to do so the same easily.” Reasoned the wise Dietrich.

  On those words, Hans doubted. Dietrich wouldn’t teach him something so extraordinary that practically made you a speed demon, yet something so flawed that once understood, his enemies could pinpoint him like a fish in a bowl. And the way he was going, there were no ordinary enemies he’d face in the future. He needed something more. “There has to be a solution, right?” he asked.

  “Inheritance is an exponential learning curve, but it comes to a saturation point quickly that it becomes constant,” Dietrich explained.

  “Ancestor, I’m bad at math-babble.”

  “Then let’s go with easy language—it’s easy to score 80 marks out of a hundred, but to make that 80 an 81. You have to put far more effort than previously.”

  “I’m bad at studying too. 80? I haven’t seen anything similar to it in my report card.”

  “You are a hard nut to teach, aren’t you?” Dietrich sighed, thinking he picked a really weird descendant to teach after hundreds of years.

  “Come on, ancestor, don’t give up now. I’m more of a doing things by hands kind of guy.”

  Dietrich sighed, accepting his fate. He was the one eager to teach now, so he knew he just had to suck up and do with it. “First, we need to train your body so it could handle the strain caused by Agile steps,” he explained. “We can’t have you with broken bones, and when you infuse aura in the sword, it becomes even more taxing with deadly—”

  “What about the weakness? You haven’t given me a solution of what to do when someone understands Agile steps pattern,” Hans was stuck on those words. He needed a solution and needed it fast.

  “You should work on it yourself, foolish descendant,” Dietrich pulled a fast one on him.

  “Oh come on!” Hans whined, “Aren’t you the guy who said not using the gift is a fool’s errand?” He shamelessly pointed to Dietrich. “And you are the greatest gift anyone can ask for, ancestor.”

  “Haaa!” Dietrich sighed again, and at this time it was at Hans’s shamelessness. “Do you understand what is two times two?” Dietrich asked.

  “Four, obviously.”

  “Then what is 2345434 times 578497653?”

  “Oh, I believe I told you I’m not good at Math-thing. It’s a lot more complicated than two times two—”

  “Exactly.” Dietrich emphasised. “If it’s so simple that people can understand easily, make it complicated.”

  “M’kay. I could increase my speed further, making it harder for people to follow my pattern, or I could go on a full offensive from the start, giving them no chance to grasp.

  Dietrich affirmed, “Your battle sense is your most redeeming quality, kid. Bernard would be an ideal opponent for you to train against. His mind-works are no joke. If you can beat him without him grasping your steps, then it’s safe to say it can probably work on anyone.”

  “Chris’s father, the sixteenth-ranked knight? Aren’t you shooting your shot pretty far, ancestor? At least not now—”

  “You are the one underestimating the sword in Parvian’s hand, foolish descendant.” Dietrich turned wise and notched up the training several folds. “Swing! Swing! Slash!” His sword turned serpent, attacking out of nowhere.

  A feeling of disappointment covered Hans’s eyes. “Ah, seriously. He was holding pretty much everything before.” Hans gritted as the volley of strikes barely went past him. Till the sun met the horizon, Hans continued to struggle against Dietrich but to no avail; the result was always the same.

  An insane striking speed with huge momentum always got Hans bad. He was beaten blue, his handsome elven appearance now disheveled, back now hugging the ground while his chest ballooned as he inhaled. He was tired beyond words.

  “Tomorrow, the day after that and that and that….We’ll continue to forge your body until it is ready.” Saying this, Dietrich vanished.

  “Load Human Codex.” Hans readied himself for the upcoming pain and it did not disappoint. Like a low blow, it entered and left him with agony. “This is hard.” Hans looked above; the sun had shied away by the mountains. “I can’t even heal this.”

  Hans looked at his bleeding palm. It was true that he was a prodigy, but his hands weren’t acquainted with a knight’s rigorous practice.

  Wrapping his hand tightly with a bandage, he hurried away from the Man-Eating Forest. He was out of potions, and since Sierra’s magic now didn’t work on him. He needed a huge supply of healing potions. “Vanir, where have you buried your head?” He barged in without knocking.

  “Swoosh!” A molten rock just flew past him. “The heck! Are you rebelling, minion?”

  “Darn it, Senior. Knock for god sake.” Vanir complained, coming out from behind a desk. “And stop startling me. I’ve a lot of enemies. You don’t want to burn in crossfire, do you?”

  “Cut the bullshit. Do you have any healing potions?”

  “Senior, that thing is harmful. Didn’t you just take the three with you?” Concerned, Vanir asked.

  “The one you make works like a charm. So do you have any or not?”

  “Ha…you aren’t even listening. Don’t blame me if you get addicted.” Vanir opened a creaky wardrobe cleverly hidden as ordinary. Vials full of simmering liquid, and the one Hans craved right now, were just in front of him.

  “The red one.” Hans pointed, and reluctantly, Vanir handed it over. “Now that’s a good subordinate.” Hans praised while asking, “Where are you in our next golem project?”

  “Crocotian is ready to be released, but since the dungeon went bust. We have a little to nothing supply of resources, Senior.”

  “Still no luck with the magic tower we nabbed from the Council? I thought you would be able to unlock runes, but you only reached level two. You are turning a disappointment, dear junior.”

  “Oh please! Researching golems, mana beasts. Raising my own circle, and now your personal apothecary. Senior! I’m just a single man. Teleporting back and forth from the tower. I need to study too, and now you want me to haste in unlocking more levels. I’m already swamped. We need more people.”

  “So you want a little competition? Okay, don’t cry a river when you have to defend your position as the future tower master—”

  “Fine, fine, you cruel employer. I’ll squeeze more time. Happy.” Vanir knew it was getting hectic, but the last thing he wanted right now was to watch his own back. Since the tower was Hans’s personal property, he had only allowed him to work on it.

  For Vanir or any other mage, acquiring a fascinating existence as the mage tower was nothing but a dream come true. Filled with lore and complex magic research, Vanir desired it too. The more he unlocked, the more surprised he got. He was stepping steadily towards his goal, and Hans was the catalyst to all of it.

  “I’ll do it, damn it.” Resolved burned in his eyes, which darted at Hans gulping the red potion. “So what’s next, senior?” He asked.

  “Hmm…Clearing the graduation as the top of the class. It’s all practical. I can’t have Delimira and Chris rubbing me with ‘third rank’ bullshit again.”

  “Isn’t it too mediocre? You are Hans Parv. What about some thrill like usual?” Vanir urged, hoping Hans would speak.

  “How about breaking into the Elven royal palace? Or sneaking a Spirit out of their forbidden lands? Is this thrilling enough, my cheeky subordinate?”

  “Yeah. You should have at least that level of goal to be the Parvian Prince I serve. When should we start planning?” A series of waves washed over Vanir as he stretched out his elven ears to listen.