(Planet Tithia, First Elder's private training arena, Forty Five Days Later)
One and a half months passed in the blink of an eye for Leo and Veyr, as the duo struggled with paranoia and panic on the daily, until recently when they finally began to overcome it convincingly.
*Clink*
*Clink*
The cuffs still weighed on their wrists every morning, and the potion still burned in their throats every afternoon, yet what once dragged them to the brink of madness now felt like a crucible they could walk through without stumbling, as the hallucinations that used to tear their minds apart no longer seemed to hold any power over them.
"Cuz, it's almost funny," Veyr said, his lips twitching into a grin as he spun aside from a real dagger that whistled toward him, his body moving without hesitation. "This thing used to make me scream at shadows, now it's like I can feel which ones are smoke and which ones can actually split my ribs."
He boasted, as Leo chuckled in response.
"There's nothing to celebrate, you still move too late on twenty percent of them," Leo reminded, his tone flat as he remained perfectly still while another dagger flashed across the air, vanishing a breath before it could touch him.
Unlike Veyr, who scrutinized every attack with slight doubt still, Leo's eyes never even narrowed, his breathing never changing, as the faint hum of his instincts guided him with a certainty that left no space for doubt, as though his body had become a vessel that reacted before his mind even tried to calculate.
"You're at eighty percent, while I'm very close to mastery. If you want my advice, the only thing you need to take the final step is to stop second guessing yourself, for until you stop thinking like a swordsman and start trusting like a beast, you'll always flinch at the wrong time." Leo added, his voice quiet yet cutting.
"Tch, I'll get there very soon Cuz, don't count me out yet." Veyr muttered, though his grin held, sweat sliding down his cheek as he steadied himself, clearly unwilling to accept the gap between them even as he knew it was there.
Throughout this interaction, the First Elder watched from the sidelines with that same hollow smile of his, his hands folded behind his back, as his expression gave nothing away except the faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
"You've both come far, Skyshard more so than you Veyr, but I never expected either of you to master this technique in under two months... for when I taught this to Noah, it took him six months to do the same. So compared to him, you're both monsters in my eyes." The First Elder said, as he suddenly threw a couple daggers across the room, one real and one fake, as just like he expected, Leo did not even flinch at the attack, while Veyr shifted his weight just in time to avoid the real one that buried itself in the sand at his feet.
"You see?" the Elder continued, his tone sharp with approval. "I threw this attack with the strength of a Grandmaster, and it would have easily impaled any amateur tier warrior. However, you dodged it not with exceptional speed or reflex, but instincts alone, even when your strength is suppressed to the amateur tier. This is proof that while a warrior may wield a hundred techniques, if his instincts betray him, he dies before any of them can save him. So understand that what you have forged here is not just a skill, it is survival itself, and survival is the only currency that carries meaning when the universe tries to erase you."
The First Elder explained, as Leo closed his eyes briefly, feeling the calm hum of his body responding in harmony with danger.
'He's right. This technique is a cheat. While it's not useful for offense or defense in particular, it's still invaluable as a passive'
Leo thought, as by the time he opened his eyes again, he felt all the lingering effects of the paranoia potion fade away, even though he had drunk it not even a couple minutes ago.
*Sigh*
At the same time, Veyr let out a long exhale, dragging the back of his wrist across his brow as he muttered under his breath, "Guess this means sneaking up on either of us is officially impossible, huh?"
"Not impossible," Leo corrected, his voice stoic as stone, "just very unlikely."
And with that, the training continued, the daggers flying, the instincts sharpening, as by the end of the day, Leo finally completed his part of the training, and attained mastery in [Sixth Sense]. The skill now becoming a new passive for him.
(Meanwhile Raymond)
At the same time as Leo and Veyr improved, so did Raymond, who after forty five days of battling Kaelith, felt his instincts sharpen in a way they never had before, for although his body was still too slow to escape most attacks, and his blade still too heavy to carve openings against his father, at the very least he could finally see the storm descending upon him before it struck.
Every strike now came with a ripple in the air, every dimensional distortion folding space just slightly out of alignment before the blow arrived, and though Kaelith's speed remained untouchable, Raymond's eyes no longer chased shadows in vain, as they began to track patterns hidden in the chaos.
'I can see it... the fracture in space, the bend in the angle of his step, the moment before the strike...' Raymond thought, as his arm lifted far too late, yet still lifted, his blade catching the edge of Kaelith's palm strike and softening the impact, though the force still flung him backwards, his ribs groaning as he hit the floor hard enough to rattle his teeth.
*Thud*
*Wheeze*
He pushed himself up, his breath ragged, his legs trembling, yet his eyes burned with a light that had not been there at the beginning.
Kaelith did not relent, his figure bending in and out of mirrored fragments of space, each movement a lesson in inevitability, each strike an echo of mastery Raymond could not yet touch, yet no matter how many times he fell, no matter how many cuts burned across his skin, he rose again, guided not by hope of victory but by the certainty that his instincts were finally awakening.
'I am still too slow, still too weak, still leagues beneath him... but I can see now.'
The thought carried him through the pain, as bruises painted his body and his grip shook upon his weapon, yet his battle intent, sharpened day after day under Kaelith's merciless hand, stood firmer than ever.
'I will still most likely not be able to stand my ground against uncle, however, at least now I'll be able to block an attack or two before dying. I have exactly 100 more days until Mauriss's deadline to attack the Cult, but if I keep improving at this rate, I'll be able to hold uncle back for at least 10 minutes before he overwhelms me....' Raymond thought, as for now, surviving 10 minutes was the only goal he chased.
(More chapters in Buyers Club for TMT)