Chapter 8

The next morning, Sirone entered the library with a weary body. He hadn’t slept a wink due to the events of the previous night. His troubled mind hindered the sorting work, slowing down his progress.

Stay calm. Sirone made an effort to regain his composure. I’m not facing immediate death. I have a month. I can find a way.

First, he gathered intelligence. According to the information he had gathered, the head of House Ojent, Bishop Ojent, had three sons and one daughter. The eldest son was a level-six certified swordsman, and the second son, Lye, was believed to be a genius in swordsmanship who followed in his brother’s footsteps without a doubt. The eldest daughter also had outstanding talent, but instead of the sword, she chose music and was active as a pianist in the royal palace. Upon closer examination, Lian was ultimately the only one who hadn’t shown his potential. Despite assigning him a private instructor, the reports came back stating he had no aptitude.

“What have I done? I should have just taken the beating,” Sirone groaned.

Lian, who had lived comparing himself to his brothers his whole life, was naturally furious about the Thunderstrike. It seemed that being a noble didn’t automatically make one exceptional.

Now what? This is really getting serious. Troubled once again, Sirone pondered his options as he stared blankly at the longsword left neglected under his desk.

“I don’t have time for this.” He stood up abruptly and headed to the library. Whether I fight or not, it’s best to be prepared.

Having grown up in the mountains, he held confidence in his physical prowess. Learning some defensive techniques might just be the key to saving his life. For the time being, he set aside the history books and instead gathered every volume related to swordsmanship. Among them were technical manuals like Guide to Swordsmanship, and philosophical books such as What is a Sword? and Only Humans Fear Swords, as well as practical guides like Winning Through Bluffing and Survival of the Strongest.

One book, with a simple and clear title, Swordsmanship, caught his attention. It contained the history of swords and a comprehensive wealth of knowledge about the art. Even for Sirone, an aspiring mage, it held a captivating allure.

Much like mages and their Spirit Zones, swordsmen possessed something called “Schema.” Schema was a virtual body, a representation that reflected the complexities of one’s body. Any human being possessed an image of one’s body, and Schema was an extreme manifestation of it.

Masters of Schema could not only perfectly understand their bodies but also control everything from the workings of cells to the functioning of nerves.

Sirone closed the book and gave his knees a resolute clap. “It’s comparable to the Spirit Zone.”

While mages dissolved into the world, swordsmen delved deeper into their own existence. Sirone ventured to try to awaken his Schema. It involved maintaining the sensation just before entering the Spirit Zone while perceiving a virtual version of oneself. As anticipated, this part proved easy. However, the virtual body appeared as dark as a shadow, devoid of sensation. If I can strip away this dark veil completely, it becomes Schema. Truly remarkable.

Sirone picked up the book again. The methods of mastering Schema varied from family to family, with each emphasizing different aspects for reinforcement. Some focused on mental cultivation, while others pushed their physical limits to extremes. Additionally, some families used Schema to enhance strength, while others honed speed or nerves.

Come to think of it... In a moment of recollection, Sirone thought about the red-haired girl he had encountered in an alley in the city three years ago. Back then, he didn’t quite get it. But later, at home, it dawned on him. What she had done wasn’t something a regular person could do. That girl had mastered Schema. She was around my age... She must be very talented.

Closing the book, Sirone pondered further. Lian hadn’t mastered Schema, but there seemed to be a barrier preventing him from attempting it too. Schema was important to swordsmanship, but it wasn’t the art itself, much like how the Spirit Zone wasn’t magic. Just as knowledge was paramount for mages, a robust body was indispensable for swordsmen.

If my body can’t support it, the range of enhancement will be extremely narrow. Since I can already access the Spirit Zone, it would be more efficient to seek a solution in swordsmanship rather than conflicting concepts. With renewed determination, he set out to establish a foundation with the Spirit Zone and learn several practical swordsmanship techniques.

“All right.” Sirone opened the beginner’s guide to swordsmanship. Although he was diving headfirst into the study of swordsmanship, his life hung in the balance, driving his focus to new heights.

***

The sounds of grunts and shouts echoed through the training grounds. A cloud of dust billowed around him, a testament to Lian’s intense regimen, the dirt swirling in the air. His heart pounded fiercely, his breaths shallow, threatening to bring up his lunch. With difficulty, Lian fought against the churning in his stomach, pressing forward. Nothing mattered but the strength in his legs.

“That’s a hundred laps! Good job!” cheered Kait, the sword instructor, genuinely impressed by Lian’s unusual display of dedication. “You’ve beaten your own record! What’s gotten into you? It’s not like you to endure the training without a fuss.”

“Damn it! What kind of training is this?”

“What did you say, you brat?” Kait’s eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. It had been a while since he tried to commend his apprentice, only to be met with defiance and a pout. Yet today, something was different.

“I’m still standing on both legs! Isn’t there a more intense form of training, Master Kait?”

“What?” Kait was taken aback. When was the last time I had seen him this fired up? Was it two years ago when he knelt before the prodigious talent of Lye Ojent? “Did something happen?”

Leaning on his knees, Lian panted heavily, his face drenched in sweat. “No...” he replied after a moment of hesitation.

The sword instructor wasn’t convinced. In his pupil’s eyes, staring ahead with a frightening intensity, there was undoubtedly a glimmer of someone’s specter. Is it Lye again this time? Kait’s mind raced. The only person capable of inciting this kind of determination in Lian was the second son of the family. Had Lye achieved something else? But what? Hasn’t he already mastered Schema?

In the end, it truly didn’t matter. His pupil wasn’t Lye, it was Lian. Right now, it was Lian who was asking his master to push him harder, past his own limits.

“All right! Let’s see you go all out today! Don’t expect me to take responsibility for you dying!”

“Show me what you got!” Lian swung an iron bar twice as heavy as a longsword. There were no limits on the number of repetitions. If he couldn’t unlock Schema through insight, the only way was to push his body to the edge. With each strike, Lian shouted out, the sound echoing through the training area. Kait watched with a mix of satisfaction and concern as Lian repeated the vertical strikes.

However, it wasn’t long before his expression turned stern. Realizing the risks, he dashed forward. “You crazy bastard! Stop it! Your muscles will explode!”

“They haven’t exploded yet!”

The instructor halted in his tracks. Tears were streaming down Lian’s face as he wielded the pole with unmatched determination.

“Damn it! Why won’t my muscles explode? Why won’t my arms break? I can do more! This isn’t the end! I’m not finished yet!” Lian cried.

Tears welled up in Kait’s eyes as well. He was as frustrated as his pupil. Why isn’t it working? Why can’t he unlock Schema despite pushing his body to its absolute limits? Kait wiped away his tears with his thick hands as he shook off his uncertainties. No. What is Lian supposed to do if even his own master begins to doubt him?

Kait caught Lian’s swinging iron bar with the palm of his hand. This time, his student couldn’t continue so stubbornly. It was his master’s hand, after all.

“Lian, that’s enough. Let’s call it a day.”

Hearing his master’s warm voice, Lian’s fervor subsided. The sensation in his arms had faded quite a while ago. Unaware that the iron bar had fallen to the ground, Lian bowed his head deeply and replied. “All right. Thank you.”

Kait draped a cool towel over Lian’s shoulders. Seeing that his bones were not injured, it was evident that he had an innate toughness like no other. Sitting on a hill in the training grounds, Lian stared at the distant mountains with a resolute expression.

“What’s on your mind?”

“My arms are in so much pain.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Kait’s mouth. “Lian, I’ve never noted down in a report that you have talent.”

“Uh... I didn’t ask.”

“But I believe you have talent. It’s not just about achieving things quickly. Challenging the unachievable and putting effort into things can also be considered a talent.”

“There’s no need for comforting words. Frankly, I’m working myself to the bone because I lack talent.”

“Possibly. However, geniuses know they are geniuses. They also have a clear understanding of what they can do. Have you ever had such a thought?”

“Well, I know very well what I can’t do,” Lian mumbled.

“Right. You’re not a genius.”

The student looked at his master with a mix of confusion and surprise. It was as if his teacher was fanning the flames of a burning house—subjecting his already aching body to even more internal agony.

“Stop it. I’m already aware.”

Seeing his student with a pouty expression, Kait smiled.

“But Lian, do you know what geniuses fear? It’s effort. Even natural-born geniuses work hard, but it’s not the kind of effort we think of. They may face setbacks and pain, but there’s no doubt. They achieve what they can. Therefore, effort is a powerful weapon for those who don’t possess it. Working hard because you lack talent? Absolutely not. The only ones in the world who can work hard are the ones who actually do.” Kait gripped Lian’s shoulders, showing his support. “You have the will to challenge what you can’t do. That’s something no one else can have. To put it simply, you’re the nemesis of a genius.”

The nemesis of a genius... Lian relished the resonance of those words. Even if they were words of comfort for a seemingly hopeless student, it didn’t matter.

He simply doesn’t have it, Kait thought to himself. Nevertheless, it’s attainable if he persistently puts in the effort.

I will definitely win. Lian was determined to give his all in the remaining month.

***

Sirone was acutely aware of his limitations and strengths. Upon grasping the concept of Schema, he immediately immersed himself in the study of swordsmanship. Choice and concentration were the two elements efficiently guided by talent that charted the most direct path to mastery. Sirone cast aside extraneous techniques, diving deep into the core principles of swordsmanship.

And so, a month elapsed. During this time, he honed his skills with just two techniques: eight-directional strikes and eight-directional blocks.

This is the best I can do. Content with his progress, he concluded his training. Then Sirone posed a question that encapsulated all he had learned. “What is swordsmanship?”

It was the epitome of biomechanics aimed at the cessation of life. It was also a sophisticated study of psychology, a line between life and death. With resolve, Sirone pointed his sword forward. Though his enemy might seem to move in every conceivable angle, he knew that was but an illusion.

The true sword is the one coming to strike me. Therefore, I must block in eight directions. He responded in his imagination. The eight blades, each representing a different direction, multiplied in his imagination, culminating in a clash that seemed to involve hundreds of swords. With each strike, a determined grunt escaped Sirone’s lips. He couldn’t possibly calculate every individual strike. It’s not about counting. It’s about feeling them all at once.

Just as fixating on individual trees obscures the view of the forest, accepting the entirety of potential movements was paramount. This was true insight. However, it was far from easy in practice. As various patterns extended like fractals, he found himself getting fixated on specific spaces. It’s all right if I can’t do it. Let’s observe for now. It’s just about correcting errors. Sirone eventually let go of all thoughts with his release of tension. Only then did the entire field of view become clear, and a multitude of possibilities rushed in all at once.

Huh? Sirone’s eyes widened in astonishment. It’s endless. His sword and Lian’s sword filled every imaginable space around him. Dropping his sword, Sirone staggered backward. A laugh bubbled up from within him, a realization that swords were infinite too. He had glimpsed the infinity created by the two swords.

So this is the path swordsmen have chosen. He, too, had chosen the infinite path of magic, and that sense of camaraderie made him feel good. Mom, Dad... I’m sorry. I might not be able to return home.

There was no regret. Lian would likely feel the same. It was a stroke of fortune to have witnessed such a magnificent facet of the world before standing at the crossroads of life and death.

The resonant toll of the bell marked eleven o’clock. Lian was striving to gain what seemed beyond his reach, while Sirone had pushed himself to complete what was within his grasp. The anticipated showdown between these two vastly different young boys was now a mere hour away.