Chapter 644: The Moonlit Whisper [First Technique]
Northern's breath caught in his throat. The name alone carried a weight of mystery that made the air in the Void Palace feel heavier.
"The Moonlit Whisper," Bairan continued, his white hair seeming to absorb the eerie blue light around them, "is not just a technique. It is the foundation of everything else you will learn."
He moved his sword from his shoulder, holding it at his side with a grip so natural it seemed like an extension of his arm.
"Watch carefully."
Northern's eyes widened slightly. During the course of this training, he had seen Bairan demonstrate sword techniques, but something felt different this time. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Bairan didn't move. Or rather, he moved so subtly that Northern's eyes struggled to process what they were seeing. It was as if the sword was disturbing reality itself, creating ripples in the space around it.
'What... what am I looking at?'
The movement was smaller than a whisper, yet Northern felt something brush past his cheek. When he touched the spot, he found a single strand of his hair had been cut clean through.
"That was just a greeting," Bairan said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth. "The true technique is far more... intimate."
Northern's excitement from earlier transformed into something deeper. A small frown creased his face.
'Did that technique bypass void force?'
It did not feel right. In the past-or to be fairer, since he became a Sage-Northern had been developing a more practical use for void force.
Before now, Void Force had been a stagnant form of defense, a wall of air that diversified the space between him and an attack.
But Northern did not want to be protected by a wall of air like a helpless child all the time. Hence, he looked for a way to make the defense mechanism more practical.
It didn't take long to develop a method for what he wanted. Northern took firm control of the force and compressed it so tightly that it became a flexible concept.
That flexibility allowed Northern to wrap it around his entire form. Instead of being a wall around him, the void force became a thin layer of defense framing him from head to toe.
There were advantages and disadvantages to this new form of the void force. One of the advantages was that Northern achieved what he wanted; the disadvantages, however...
The void force lost that quality power to endlessly stretch the distance between an attack and him. Now, it just stopped the attack from entering the Limitless Void instead of trapping it there like it would before.
It was regrettable, but he could always change it whenever he wanted.
The most prideful change that happened to the void force was that now, under Northern's direct supervision, it was impossible for any kind of attack to bypass it.
Before, the void force only reacted to something, but now, it was constantly being maintained by Chaos Eyes and his Limitless Void essence. Chaos Eyes served as its eyes of danger, his void essence served as its running fuel.
However, just now, it had been bypassed. The implication of this was that... as much as Northern hated to admit it, his Chaos Eyes... did not catch the move!
'I have to learn it at all costs!'
For Northern, this became something that was not just about learning a powerful technique. It was about understanding something fundamental about the nature of swordsmanship itself.
"The Moonlit Whisper operates on a simple principle," Bairan explained, sheathing his sword. "Just as moonlight can illuminate an entire lake with just a touch of its reflection, a true sword strike need only disturb the air by the width of a hair to cut through anything."
He gestured for Northern to draw his sword.
"The drills I taught you weren't just about speed or precision. They were about understanding the threshold between movement and stillness. The Moonlit Whisper exists in that threshold."
Northern gripped his sword, feeling the weight of Bairan's words settle into his understanding. Everything he had learned over the past three weeks began to take on new
meaning.
"Now," Bairan's voice carried an edge of anticipation, "show me your current draw. Let's see how close you are to finding that threshold."
Northern took a deep breath, centering himself. The excitement from earlier had transformed into sharp focus.
A moment like this was bound to mark the beginning of something profound, so he had to approach it with a level of seriousness he had never employed before.
His hand rested on the hilt of Stainless, and in that moment, everything he had learned about timing, about the single moment, about the perfect draw, converged into a single point of
understanding.
The Void Palace held its breath, waiting to witness Northern's first step toward mastering the legendary Moonlit Whisper technique.
Northern's hand tightened ever so slightly on the hilt of his sword. All his senses converged into that single point of contact between his palm and the wrapped handle.
Three weeks of endless drills crystallized in his mind. The way his thumb should rest, the precise tension needed in each finger, the microscopic shift in his body weight-everything aligned perfectly in his mind.
'Just like breathing.'
His draw was swift, precise, and by all normal standards, perfect. The odachi sang as it left its sheath, cutting through the air with deadly grace.
But it wasn't enough.
"Again," Bairan commanded, though his eyes held a glint of interest.
Northern didn't hesitate. Again and again, he drew his sword, each time refining the
movement further.
His tenth attempt was noticeably smoother than his first. His twentieth showed even more
improvement.
By the thirtieth draw, something began to change.
It wasn't in the speed or the precision-those had been nearly perfect from the start. It was something else, something more fundamental.
On his forty-third draw, Northern felt it. A moment of... something. Like his blade had touched something that wasn't quite air, wasn't quite space, but existed between the two.
Bairan's eyes widened slightly.
"Again."
Northern drew once more, chasing that sensation. This time, the feeling was stronger. The air around his blade seemed to shiver, not from the speed of his draw, but from something else
entirely.
'There's something here. Something just beyond my grasp.'
His next draw caused the eerie blue light of the Void Palace to ripple, as if the sword had cut
through the light itself.
Bairan took a half-step forward, his usual composed demeanor showing cracks of genuine
surprise.
"Master... you're..."
Northern barely heard him. He was lost in the sensation now, each draw bringing him closer
to understanding something his mind couldn't quite grasp but his body was beginning to comprehend.
On his fifty-seventh draw, it happened.