Chapter 35 - Horizon
It had been a few days since they had left Port Zant. The sun rose on the horizon as the first rays touched the damp earth, awakening the city. A faint mist still lingered in the air, rendering the landscape ethereal, as if nature itself wished to prolong the peaceful silence of dawn. Slowly, the Iron Legion's camp came to life. Warriors and group members moved with precision, dismantling the last tents, loading carts with supplies, and adjusting the horses' saddles.
At the center of it all, an open space had been chosen for the morning training. The rhythmic sound of wooden swords meeting water echoed in the distance. Rygar stood facing Eidar, his body relaxed but his eyes sharp. Both wielded wooden swords, practicing the Water God Style, their postures fluid and graceful, like the movement of a river.
Rygar's focus was clear: to master the Flow. The Flow is akin to the Long Sword of Light of the Sword God Style; once fully mastered, one becomes a Water Saint. But even knowing how to use it was the key to being considered a truly advanced-level warrior in the Water God Style. He had already learned all the necessary techniques, but he needed to apply them flawlessly. One mistake and the Flow would break, and the technique would fail.
"Control your haste, Rygar," said Eidar calmly, pausing momentarily and assuming his fluid posture. "If your body and mind are not in sync, the Flow will never come—and you are too hasty."
Rygar nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath, concentrating. The sound of footsteps, voices, and horses in the distance seemed to fade. His mind focused only on the movement.
When he opened his eyes again, he struck.
Their wooden swords clashed, but Rygar didn't stop. He continued the movement with a spin, gracefully dodging Eidar's counterattack. His sword followed like a current of water, flowing from defense to attack and back to its original position without breaking rhythm. It was an agile and graceful dance. But it wasn't perfect.
"You're almost there," Eidar praised. "You have as much talent as I do in this style—perhaps a little more. But you still feel the need to force the movement. Flow is natural; it's letting the sword decide the path, not you."
Rygar paused and observed Eidar assume the posture once more. The fifteen-year-old youth didn't hide the confidence in his movements. He was on the verge of mastering the Flow completely, and when he did, he would be recognized as a Water Saint-level warrior. An impressive feat for his age. He had been a bit shaken when he first met Rygar, questioning whether he was truly talented. When he asked Eidar about it, Eidar simply told him that he was a monster—and that he shouldn't compare himself to monsters.
Rygar smiled faintly. Indeed, Eidar could be considered talented if he was close to reaching the Saint level—he just needed a push.
"You're really talented, Eidar. I also have some talent for it, but I'm not focusing on it as much as I should. Anyway, counterattacks and techniques to cut through magic are too useful for me to abandon."