Chapter 77 - 78
It only took a handful of seconds for him to coat the surface of the stick in a heavy layer of swordsman’s aura, what was roughly akin to a tenth of what his body could produce with his current level of stamina. The first thing that he did was try to stabilize this energy in a coherent shape, as it tended to fluctuate like flames over an open fire despite being invisible to the naked eye. He managed to do this in about twenty seconds with the help of his sixth sense, somewhat used to the process as he often cloaked his practice sword in energy to ensure that he dealt heavier hits during his spars with Zech and Jaden.
It was the next phase in the process that gave him the most trouble.
As soon as he attempted to condense the energy so that the coating could cover the stick in a more precise, less volatile manner, he was once again met with the dissipation of said energies. This left him feeling noticeably drained, as if he had just sprinted down a long street at full tilt. It was quite disorienting to feel a sudden rush of fatigue from simply sitting there in meditation.
Okay, he thought, encouraging himself to make another attempt. This time, let’s try using half the previous amount.
The same result ultimately took place, but this time he had been able to rein in the energies so that they only extended about a fingernail’s length out from the stick’s surface. This gave him the idea to use the most minimal amount of energy possible, so that he could then attempt to add new, thin layers of loosely arranged aura as if he were adding a second coating of paint to a plank of wood. In this way, he didn’t have to mentally keep track of a large amount of energy at once, and could gradually work his way up to a greater amount in a way that was more comfortable and accommodating.
The hours dragged on until noon was upon him, though Alistar had only made a small amount of progress. No matter how much effort he put into carefully forming an outline of swordsman’s aura around the detestable stick, the process always fell apart as soon as he tried to increase the amount of energy past a certain point. It was as if he were trying to cup water in his hands for multiple minutes while endeavouring to prevent even a single drop from spilling.
I’m so thirsty.
The day was quite hot, and now that Alistar was thinking about water he couldn’t help but desire a drink.
Tramon had forbidden him from leaving until he managed to cut one of the logs in half using nothing but the stick and his swordsman’s aura, which left him quite anxious as he had promised Mr. Herst that he would stop by about an hour after noon to share lunch with the elderly man. He would likely be late, and that was if he managed to make it at all. The thought of not upholding his commitments stoked a strong sense of guilt within his gut. Alistar had never broken a promise before, at least not purposely.