For the first time since heâd entered Origin Arson summoned Jack. The Living Hand Construct manifested from his back like water or sweat pulled from his body one drop at a time, and immediately started to fire Conductive WaterOrbs.
Heâd used a scythe before in the trials, and even been trained for a period of time by another supposed master of the art form. Yet as the first golem closed in and swung, Arson knew that if Breaker trained surrounded by enemies as Arson now was, his new master was in a league of his own.
Arson barely managed to dodge the first swing of the golem before another appeared amidst a swing of their own.
Arson countered with a strike of his own against the second attacker, while Jack fired at the first. The explosion blew a group of golems backward giving Arson a moment to breathe, but the breath ended with him being flanked; two golems attempting to bisect him with matching horizontal swings directed at his waistline. Arson flipped, aerially balancing his free hand on the blades in the instance they passed through the space where heâd just been standing. Using the scythe heâd been given to strike back, lashing out with a wide sweeping arc of an attack while he spun.
He managed to hit neither of the nearby golems, but Jack kept up the defense, with a pure offense. Arson thought he was doing well, until Breaker spoke.
âThe challenge will start the moment your construct stops assisting you. Donât forget the test is to see your natural talent with the scythe, nothing more.â
Arson groaned and pulled Jack back inside his body, feeling a sense of disappointment from the construct as it disappeared. He knew the moment that he no longer had the support fire granted by the construct that he was in trouble.
He landed, and was instantly knocked forward by a swift vertical slash from a golem he hadnât noticed. He felt that he should have been aware, but still hadnât fully adapted to the use of his Closed Eye Dominion.
Rather then allow himself to sprawl helplessly on the floor, Arson rolled, coming back to his feet, using a wide slash of his own to make space.
I canât use Jack, but that doesnât mean I canât use mana through this scytheâ¦
The thought distracted Arson just long enough for another slice to tare into his back, causing the golden blood leaking from his body to flow more heavily. He gritted his teeth against the growing sense of pain, letting conductive water flow free of his hands, while taking the scythe he held into a two handed grip.
He roared. The next slash of the scythe vibrating through the air with a heroic cleave. A wave of electrified water splitting the air with an explosive eruption.
A flash from his senses forced him to duck, blades slicing viciously above him, Arson immediately transitioning into a spartan kick to knock away an attacker that rushed his left side.
With a twirl of the basic weapon, he was able to knock away more attackers, learning more about the weapon he held with every exchange with the golems. Using his Closed Eye Dominion to take in the area around him completely, the dome sent him a mental image of everything within its perception, like a pulsing sonar using mana rather than sound.
This allowed him to see the various stances being used by all the golems. The different styles, and gain a natural understanding of the purpose of the techniques, giving him the when and why a certain maneuver was being used.
Counters, that led into attacks, not just for attacking when the opportunity arose, but to also give a wielder a chance to shift the weapon in hand to defend properly, create attack chains for combos, and even defend from consistently shifting angles.
Arson was learning quickly, but not fast enough. For every attack dodged, or blocked, another two or three attacks sliced into him. His healing factor was incredibly reduced throughout Endlessâs trials thus far, and this hadnât changed, but with every conductive water charged slash of the scythe that struck his opponents, the more mana that flooded into his body, increasing what access he had to mana.
Arson was lucky to learn that the golems he fought currently were jammed packed with mana and even runic energies, allowing him to heal at a higher rate as long as every swing was filled with the absorbing attribute of conductive waters.
The more he fought, however, the more difficult the combat became. At first, heâd been in the gutter edges of the stadium Breaker had taken him to, but without his knowing the golems had been forcing him farther into the depths of the army of living constructs.
Why must everything be so difâ
Arsonâs thought was cut off by an even more errant idea. Heâd originally refrained from using his Closed Eye Dominion due to the flood of information given to him when he kept his eyes shut, but what if he used the stress of combat to force him to adapt. It was what his mother did to him constantly during training. So why not try to do the same but by his own will.
No big deal, Arson, just close your eyes while dozens of enemies are swinging their weapons at you. You got thisâ¦
He struggled to close his eyes, and once heâd managed it, immediately opened them, seeing attacks coming from angles and areas heâd previously missed.
âOh sparks!â
He dove out the way in a panic, rolling to his feet and lashing out wildly to try and gain space for another attempt. The next few tries all ended the same. Panic induced dodges brought on by floods of overloading his senses.
Yet things changed the more he learned from the statues. He felt himself becoming a part of the chaos. Quickly his every movement gained purpose. Though he was far from the instinctual perfection that seemed to emanate from all the golems while they wielded the scythe, his own natural talents with the weapon shone through more with every passing moment.
Eventually Arson began to feel his mind calm. All the information being used like situational puzzle pieces, recognized before being utilized in a ballad of singing styles.
Left, then right, duck under, and swing. Right, duck, jump over, spin, and swing. Rotate, flip, kick, shift stances, then swing.
The thoughts became even more instinctual when Arson was finally able to keep his eyes closed in moments of duress or alarm. Surprises turned into nothing but the bliss of growing during an endless onslaught.
After gaining confidence, Arson started to go on the offensive, wanting to see if he could raise the bar further. It wasnât that the combat had become easy, more that he came to the understanding that if he didnât push to take control of the interactions between himself and the golems, he would eventually find himself trapped and overwhelmed.
The longer he fought the more his understanding grew of how outclassed he was. The golems at first seemed to work mostly on a sporadic individualized narrative, but as any good story the tale being crafted by his opponents was filled with distractions and lures to draw him away from the point. His life was at risk, and the golems were allowing him to grow comfortable, raising the bar only slightly in each moment, but Arson felt a change that was far more drastic as night fell.
If not for his Closed Eye Dominion, the nearly invisible strikes made by the golems in duos and trios would have killed him, let alone maimed him.
Arson almost lost both an arm and a leg while fighting through the night. Drenched in sweat and desperately struggling to breathe, Arson felt his mind begin to fray at the edges.
His exhaustion was reaching critical levels, leaving him forced to refine his every action to slight movements, only necessary attacks, and a large amount of blocking, parrying, and mana infused counters.
Never have I prayed for the sun to rise more, but I bet the depths of the dump at night are this bad, if not worseâ¦
He eventually came to a point where he had far too many cuts across his body both small and large for any amount of healing he could currently manage to keep up with the continued damage.
Refusing to give up, and believing that only death was an option if he didnât succeed, he pushed on. His mind full of thoughts of his waiting friends and family, he pushed on. Wanting the power to overcome all obstaclesâ¦
Just keep running, Arson, just keep runningâ¦
â¦
Breaker watched the young man literally fall asleep on his feet. He laughed, about to step in and save the young man, as he only had but a short time left until sunrise anyhow. Heâd already long told himself that he wanted to train the young Cultivator.
However, a new pressure was felt and Breaker froze. The young manâs shadow flickered in the light of the setting moons above, and a wave of power pulsed free of his body. His hair growing longer and darker, losing its crimson luster completely.
âIs he possessed, no⦠this is still a piece of his soul, butââ
The boy disappeared with a roar, and reappeared with pure black eyes, a complete contrast to the normal star filled irises that Breaker had seen him possess before.
âIf there was any doubt before, there is none now, he must be my student!â
The boy teleported through the shadows, wreaking havoc on the golems. His dwindling power reinvigorated and once more thriving on a whole new level.
Every slash knocked back ranks of the golems. Every dodge clean. All styles and stances balanced.
The young manâs instincts were not as wild and seemingly unskilled as they had been prior, but instead felt practiced, even though Breaker knew they werenât.
âThatâs it, boy, show me moreâ¦
The violence continued and Breaker watched the power reverberating throughout the stadium begin to diminish as the sun rose. It seemed that the darkness that the young Cultivatorâs body used to thrive was lessened as the rays of the sun begun to stretch across the skies above.
Breaker watched the moment the fraction of the Cultivatorâs soul left puppeteering his body withdrew, and the young Godling woke up with a shake of his head, blinking as a blade dove directly toward his head.
â¦
Arson opened his eyes in the same moment that a blade was caught between the fingers of Breaker. The concussive force of the attack causing his hair to blow back from his face in a gust of air.
"Sparks, did I fall asleep,â he said more to himself, confused as to what was happening.
âYes, boy, but no matter, you passedâ¦â
Arson looked around, seeing that the sun had just begun its ascension, and gasped in shock.
âBloody embers! I did it!â
He jumped for joy and began to dance in celebration, not stopping until the scythe he held in his hand broke into pieces, crumbling like a broken toy.
âUmmâ¦â mumbled Arson looking at Breaker, hoping he hadnât done something wrong.
âDonât worry child, it was nothing but a feeble tool,â said Breaker, looking to the sun and then back to Arson.
âBe back here by sunset, I must go manage the dungeon opening,â said Breaker, placing a hand on Arsonâs shoulder. Arsonâs stomach lurching at being teleported in the next instant.
âYes, sirâ¦â
Arson stood in the lobby of the stealth guild, surrounded by shocked faces all staring at him. He looked around for Breaker, but the man was gone. The three attendants that helped him previously approaching with hastened steps.
âHello, young Master, we were told to give you this.â
The three bowed and the center attendant extended both hands, holding a cloth. Arson took the garment and unfolded the pure black tabard.
The item made him think of his own guild, but he pushed the thoughts aside, ripping off his tattered shirt, and putting the Stealth guildâs armament on, as the three attendants straightened.
âWelcome to the Stealth Guild, young Master.â
â¦
Arson exited the Stealth Guild. He needed to run to get where he wanted, feeling as if flying would end with him becoming lost.
The massive city had as many sectors that were identical as were foreign, and though his memory was impressive, he hadnât seen a map of the entire city, and felt only that would give him the confidence not to follow the familiar streets heâd already uncovered.
Once there, he entered the restaurant to find it completely empty with the exception of Master Acu, eating from a table that literally spun slowly in front of the giant of a man, allowing him to consistently eat different foods as they arrived in front of him.
âYou are late, hurry up and sit. We do not have long to eat, and I do not feel like dealing with crowds.â
Arson hurried to sit beside the master, and looked over questioning if he was allowed to eat with his eyes alone, forcing down his want to lick his lips as he salivated. He hadnât needed to eat since entering the trials, but the want was still there.
âDig in, boy, or youâll regret it. And what are you wearing?â
Arson grabbed the leg of a particularly large bird, eating aggressively as he answered.
âStealth Guild tabard. Guild Master Breaker gave it to me after testing my abilities with a scythe.â
Acu choked, pounding his chest before he looked over at Arson with a straight faced stare.
âWhat?â asked Arson, his mouth filled with food, as he continued to grab at the table's offerings.
âAnd how did that go? Anything interesting I should know about?â
Arson shook his head, and was going to leave things there, until he realized Acu was still staring.
âI mean, he told me to come back, which I think is a good thing, the other members of the guild made it seem as if he didnât take on students very often, but neither do you, so I just assume that is common within the city.â
Acu nodded, and slowly returned to eating.
âDo you prefer a scythe over a bow?â
Arson paused, thinking about the question. He didnât care for either weapon over the other, he just enjoyed their uses, and began to wonder why Acu was asking.
âNo, not at all. I enjoy both, and would prefer to be more of a balanced combatant. Maybe even figure out a way to use both at the same time, or maybe even figure out how to use my Living Hand Constructs to exchange weapons situationally.â
Acu nodded, his features forming into a mixture of a contemplative grimace, and humorous confusion.
âHave any other hobbies I should know about?â
Arson paused again, and shrugged.
âMy favorite thing to do is build things using magic and restoring things forgotten to become useful, but other than that, not really. I donât do much other than that and train.â
âHmm, I see, well maybe we should go to Master Osiris the tinkerers black smithery after we are done testing the dungeon. If you are as good at crafting as you are shooting, Iâm sure heâd love to meet you.â
âThat sounds awesome, but to be honest, Iâm probably a way better crafter than I am a fighter.â
Acu looked over to Arson and smiled, speaking as he laughed, trying to keep a mouth full of food from flying all over the place.
âYou know what, boy, something tells me you have no idea just how good you are at anything.â
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