Chapter 36: The path of two blades
The dawn broke with silver fire over the training cliffs of Ilyen Gorge. Below, the wind howled like a mourning beast, sweeping through the stone ridges and stirring the long banners of the Academy with the chill of high-altitude air. Thalen stood alone atop the stone platform shirtless, scarred, and silent.
The sword in his hand gleamed faintly in the morning light. It was his blade a rare variant of the Dusksteel Class, forged to respond to his Blade Aura. The hilt pulsed with life, reacting subtly to his heartbeat, as if recognizing his doubt and desire in equal measure.
Across from him, Master Raikor stood like a carved figure of war clad in simple cloth, eyes like iron storms. He was not a man who needed grandeur. His presence alone made the world seem smaller, the sky thinner.
"You’ve grown fast," Raikor said, his voice cutting through the wind. "Too fast, maybe. You passed the Tyrant Spirit Exam. You’ve awakened what only nine others in this realm possess. And yet..." He gestured toward the sword. "You still swing like a man with only one soul."
Thalen tightened his grip. "I’ve trained every day. Fought every opponent thrown my way. What more can I do?"
"Two rivers never become one by standing still." Raikor stepped forward, drawing a curved saber from the wind behind him. "You wield two auras now Blade and Tyrant. But you treat them as strangers. If you don’t learn to merge them, one will devour the other."
Thalen nodded. He understood, at least in theory. But the practice... that was another matter.
Raikor moved, and the air screamed. His saber lashed through the space between them, not aiming to kill, but to command attention. The strike halted just before Thalen’s neck. "Begin."
Thalen reacted. His aura flared, blue and swift like a river. The blade in his hand became an extension of his will, cutting forward with practiced precision. But as he swung, something inside him staggered the moment his Tyrant Spirit flared, the Blade Aura seemed to resist it.