What's with that name? Clay looked blankly at him. "But Sir Reed, isn't it normal for a sword to be able to split a log?"

"Oh, young one." Reed chuckled. "What we're about to do is more than just chopping wood. Look closely."

He closed his eyes. Moments later his sword emitted a faint glow as he opened his eyes. "Hup!" Slash! The log was chopped cleanly into half. 

Clay went over to inspect the log. The cut surface was smooth, so smooth it loooked freshly sanded, each ring in the wood exposed in perfect, polished clarity. It's as if a master carpenter had just finished polishing it.

"Sir Reed, that's amazing!" he exclaimed. "Did you use aura?"

"That was nothing special." Reed said. "No, no aura was used."

"But your sword glowed!"

"Did it?" Reed chuckled. "It's probably light reflecting on my sword. This is one of the most basic techniques a swordsman would learn starting out, so obviously no aura mastery is required."

"But of course, Since this is a basic sword technique, many swordsmen have expanded on this and created their own unique swordarts."

"But how do I–"

"It's simple. Practice. There should be a few days left before their reply arrives. Let me give you a tip for it–try practicing first with smaller logs. You can even start with sticks!" Reed called over his shoulder as he walked out of the training room. 

"Huff... huff..." Clay sat in the training room, breathing hard in frustration, sweat clistening on his forehead. For three days, he'd been swinging, chopping, adjusting. his grip, his stance, the intensity of aura in his body–but each time he struck, the wood splintered into a chaotic mess of shards, splinters, and uneven edges. Piles of chopped logs lay scattered around him. 

He wiped his brow and looked down at his sword. Smooth... like a polished mirror. It sounded simple, but as Clay had learned over the past days, there was nothing simple about it. No matter how careful he wwas, no matter how fast or precise he thought his swing was... the technique just didn't go as he wanted it to. 

"Haap!" He swung his sword. Crack! The log split, but the edges were rough and chipped, again. "What am I missing?" he muttered, staring at yet another ruined log. The clean cut Reed had demonstrated seemed light-years away from what he was achieving.

"It seems you're having a bit of trouble, Clay," came a familiar voice. Clay spun around to see Reed leaning at the doorway, arms crossed and a wry smile on his face. 

Clay immediately straightened up. "Sir Reed!"

"Tell me what you have in mind." he said as he walked closer.

"I... I tried everything. I've been practicing everyday, on smaller logs–even sticks, but every single one..."

Reed inspected the log. "Haha!" he chuckled. "You've been practicing all right. Good. But there's something you're still not quite grasping." He held the stick up, turning it over in his hands. "Tell me, Clay–did you watch closely when I demonstrated it to you?"

"Yes, I did."

"Watch again, Closely." Reed said, picking up a log. "This time, look at my shoulder, not the blade."

"Hup!" He swung his sword.

Clay watched closely. The shoulder... Oh?

Slash! With a swift slash, the log was split cleanly into two, its cut as smooth as it had been three days ago. But Clay's focus was drawn to Reed's shoulder. It shifted back as the blade met the wood. 

In that moment, everything clicked for him. For the past few days, he had been making vertical chops, when in fact, the technique required the sword to glide through the log.

"Tell me what you saw."

"Your shoulder moved back!"

Reed laughed. "That's right! This technique is not just a downward chop. It's a slice! You get it now?"

"Yes sir!"

"Show me. This time, slice instead of chop."

Slash–k! It was a smooth cut, but something wasn't right toward the end. 

"Good! Now all you need is practice."

"Thank you, Sir Reed!" Clay shouted, bowing his head. "I'll keep at it!"

"Now hold on," Reed raised his hand. "The reason I'm here is more than this–I received a reply."

Clay widened his eyes. "Already? What is it about?"

"The person I told you about received my letter, and accepted my request. You may set off on your journey to Edenva. But!"

"But?"

"He cannot break the rules the academy has set. You are required to follow the entire procedure and take an entrance test like the rest of the applicants, which begins in two months!"

Clay's excitement wavered as he frowned slightly. "What do you mean by that?"

Reed chuckled, nodding his head. "It means your journey ahead won't be that easy. Stay sharp and remember everything we did. Now, head east and keep walking. You'll know Edenva when you see it–you can't miss it."

Clay sparkled. "Edenva... I've heard so many tales. A vast city, stretching from the shimmering desert to an icy arctic at the–"

"Ahem." Reed's voice cut through, laced with barely concealed impatience. "It's nothing like that."

Clay blinked, meeting Reed's skeptical gaze, the thrill of his imagination quickly diminished.

Reed continued. "Nevertheless, It's a large city. Not as big as you had imagined, but it does stretch across an entire mountain range, called the Edenva Range. It's also where The Barracks is located! Anyways, where was I?... Yes, head east, over some rolling hills and past some towns. The tall towers of Edenva will be in sight. Once you arrive, head the the southern part of Edenva Range, and walk up the mountains. There, you'll meet someone called Arlen. He'll be expecting you and will help you get started."

Clay tilted his head. "And... what exactly do I say to him?"

"Just introduce yourself. He'll know why you're there."

Reed placed a hand on Clay's shoulder, and added, "Remember, Clay, this isn't just about reaching Edenva. It's about everything that's waiting for you there–and what you'll become. Now off you go, pack up and get ready for departure!"

Clay packed his belongings–a set of clothes–there really wasn't anything left for him–most of his stuff in his old home have already been disposed of when it was sold off. 

There's also a sword Reed had given him. A swordsman has to have a sword!

It's not that special–not something that would slay dragons and titans. Just a blade. A plain, iron sword with as minimal details and decorations as possible. Not even a steel sword, not even with a scabbard to preserve a sword. It's as if Reed had just called in a blacksmith to have it smelt in the last minute (which he did).

But for Clay, that sword was legendary–a sword capable of splitting worlds and dominating the heavens. His very first sword.