Monroe continued to speak. “I won’t bore you with the details, however, after much trial and error, I was able to satisfactorily practice the cultivation method, albeit with sore consequences. My body was heavily stressed with the pressure that the elements I assimilated incurred upon me. I had successfully assimilated and fused with those elemental stones with the intended reinforcement of my body. The intended result was accomplished as I was able to break free of the family curse. The consequences at the time however, were two-fold. One, I was no longer able to walk the path of the mage. My body will forever be unable to exert any forms of magic beyond the layer of my skin. And two, the stressors upon my body from that hybrid cultivation path rendered me incapable of increasing my strength again for the foreseeable future.”
He looked down appearing thoughtful yet somber before speaking again. “All was not lost however, as the boost I received from that initial cultivation was far above and beyond any that have ever succeeded in assimilating those same elements at the basic level. It was as if I had broken partway into the Terrace stone or Adept level of body cultivation, simply from the assimilation of a series of basic level mage stones. Because of such, I was far more advanced than my peers at the time. The previous military pressure that I had been placed under, due in large part to my refusal to follow my father’s wishes in continuing the family’s legacy, was somewhat lessened. I was able to thrive for a time, easily taking down opponents and completing difficult missions. However, time proved to be a harsh mistress.”
Monroe’s eyes took on a faraway look before returning to his story. “At some point in the training, those that I had been able to overthrow with ease, began overcoming my strength due to successfully assimilating higher level mage stones. My father, being the renowned military leader that he was, utilized his high level of military authority to punish me in a different way. He refused to allow me to drop down to a less demanding group of recruits where my strength would still be an advantage. I was made to continue the path of a military leader in training despite my short comings. My peers who didn’t flunk out in the leader training regimen had surpassed my original level of enhancement and thus proved difficult to train or associate with.”
“As such, I began practicing a different style of self-refinement. I practiced complete mastery of my own body. Just as my unique cultivation had allowed me to surpass my peers momentarily, it had not left me stranded in the end. Despite an individual’s ability to grow stronger physically with proper training and assimilation of increasing elemental tiers of mage stones, they can also increase the level of fine movements and self-mastery of their own body. However, few take such path as it is much more demanding and less fulfilling till much progress is made. That training takes a whole different approach that I will be showing you the fruits of now.”
With that declaration that left my mind in awe, I watched as the two men Dalton and Monroe stood at ends with each other.
“Dalton!” He called with gusto. “Come at me full force!”
The Tiger man tensed his rippling muscles that appeared to combine the best of both traits regarding beast and man, and rushed forward to clash with Monroe, the much smaller and thin limbed elven man.
I honestly felt that something was likely to go wrong, as Monroe didn’t make a single move to dodge or anything. Then, just before impact, Monroe took one step back with his right leg, shifting his front left a minute amount. That at the impact, his entire body appeared to contort in an odd manner and his hands and arms made some movement that I could not decipher for the life of me. All of this minute and controlled movement led to the rushing beast man that was Dalton, to flip into the air and come crashing down into a still heap.
The resulting impact caused vibrations to rumble out, even to my distant vantage point on the sparring mat.
*Oooof!* The air had expelled out of the lungs of Dalton as he lay there for a moment longer before getting back up. Monroe held out his hand and aided the towering beastman to a standing position. “Masterful as always, sire.”
“Haha!” Monroe laughed at that. “Well obviously you held back in other ways. I had asked you to attack me full force, which you did. Had I asked for murderous intent with plans to kill, then things would be vastly different as I would have to engage other methods with which to thwart you.”
“Indeed, that is so Sire.” He responded with a quickly hidden toothy smile.
I knew that whole demonstration including their dialog was for my benefit. I suppose he also wanted me to realize that his butler was far from as easily handled as he first appeared.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Turning back to me, Monroe directly addressed me again. “As you saw, despite the far greater mass and speed with which Dalton utilized, it was far from being the correct method to take down a foe who has finely tuned their body in defense. Now had he utilized his claws or performed any last-moment counters, as he has been trained in, then the outcome of such a spar could not as easily be determined.”
“My plan.” He said continuing. “Is to teach you some basic movements, and aid you in better judgment regarding knowing when and how to counter, and when to avoid entirely.”
“That staff” He said pointing to the one in my hand and asking. “Are you intending to utilize that as your primary weapon?”
“Yes Sir!” My eyes flashed and I answered with a more fervent intensity than I had intended. Monroe lifted an eyebrow in curiosity at the forcefulness of my response.
“Hmm. May I handle it for a moment?” He asked.
I felt somewhat reluctant to release it, but I did so as I trusted this man before me.
Taking it gently from my grasp, Monroe first held it at arm length measuring it with his eyes, then slamming it to the ground, he made a rumble shake about the training room again. Finally, he began twirling and swinging it about like a staff master demonstrating his katas.
My eyes bugged out at seeing his demonstration. That! That is what I would love to be capable of doing with my staff. A strong sense of appreciation tinged with jealousy came over me as I observed this martial art taking live form.
Finally, the artistic and fatal looking display came to an end, after which Monroe gave my staff one last weird look before lightly tossing it back to me. The heft by which it carried gave a solid *wump!* as it smacked into my awaiting hand. I almost staggered from the pressure, but I remained steadfast as I retained my grip on it.
Nodding in appreciation at my stance, Monroe finally spoke up in a somewhat disbelieving tone. “Andrew. . . Do you feel any repulsion from your staff at all?”
Feeling somewhat confused, I shook my head before replying. “No, in fact I feel a strong attraction and compatibility with it.”
With a slight huff in laughter Monroe spoke. “I have no idea how you managed to get such a high-quality staff. However, you certainly got the deal of a lifetime with it. Treasure it dearly and do not lose it.” His eyes turned earnest at the last part of what he said.
Pausing as if in thought, his eyes and expression underwent a few transformations before coming to a stop. “You know, in addition to teaching you what I was going to before, I am going to teach you about weapons meditation too. This should greatly aid you as your weapon is already imprinting on you.”
Mild concern shot through me, even as my staff gave a comforting sensation back at his mention of the imprinting. Still, in curiosity I spoke up. “Is this imprinting something I should be worried about or that is bad?”
“Haha!” Waving his hand in casual denial. “No, not at all. In fact, it is a very good thing that many adventurers and fighters strive their entire life to find a weapon with which they can successfully imprint on.”
Looking seriously at my weapon, he added. “You just found yours very very early, and so we can capitalize on that.”
Stepping back, Monroe made his way to a weapons stand off to the side of his training room. Picking out a stack from the lineup of many different weapons, he then rejoined me. Positioning himself in front of the mirror, he bade me to follow suit just beside him.
Doing as instructed, he began speaking again while swinging around his staff in a slow repeating pattern. “To start, you’ll want to find a safe and sturdy place in which to practice your movements. At your current beginner stage, a bedroom or anyplace without adequate space and protection will not be a suitable place to practice.” Pausing in his movements to gesture at the mirrors in his room, he continued. “Were it not for these mirrors being heavily reinforced with runes and magic circles, I would not advise practicing in here as you are liable to drop or throw your staff multiple times.” Giving my staff a bit of a side glance, he added. “Even so, lets step back from the mirrors a bit.”
I looked at my staff myself wondering just how dangerous this would have to be in order to ruffle Monroe’s professional calm.
Continuing on as if nothing was the matter, he then began slowing down his movements, asking me to mirror his own flow in swinging the staff about. Together we formed a figure 8 or the infinity symbol with our individual staffs. My right hand held it upright, feeling the dense metal tugging down as gravity did its work. Although my staff felt heavy at this repetitive motion, so too did it feel right and comfortable. My wrist felt loose as if flowing through water and the slight echoes of wind sounded as the length of my staff swept past my ears.
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“Good now switch hands.” Monroe’s voice, broke me from my entrancing and meditative state.
I fumbled and the staff fell from my now worn-out right hand. What had originally been repetitive and peaceful to me, now ended in a pulsing weariness that came over my right hand and arm. Squeezing my hand into a fist a couple of times, I got the sensation of weakness to recede a bit. Then I switched to my left hand, repeating what he had me do with my right.
Once again I got lost within the repetition and began to phase out with my mind.
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Too soon, it felt like. I was once again interrupted by his voice as he had me change position to rest. Following a short rest, he guided me to grip the staff with both hands and thrust out and downward with force.
Before letting me do it more than once he said. “As you thrust, it is important that your mind, will, and intent flow outward also with this thrust.”
He demonstrated by taking a slow deep breath and then with a firm but flowing intentional movement, he thrust out and downward with his own staff.
I could feel and see the veritable difference in our two movements. I was like a tight fisted and fumbling toddler, while he was a practiced swordsman in precisely splitting the winds with but a rounded staff, rather than sharp blade.
Again, he took the same position as before, taking a deep breath. I began to follow suit, mirroring his movements to the best of my ability reaching for my intent and will as I sought to push it along my staff to flow along its length.
A tendril of energy, far less than what I would have had to work with in real life, passed innocently down the length of my right arm and into the staff as I thrust. A small wave of tingling heat and chills followed in its wake.
Watching me with an appraising look, Monroe nodded appreciatively. “Good. . . Good. We can now move onto the next part.”
He took me through a few other forms, which I was unsure of if I would recall even a quarter of them upon demand. Each time he requested that I move with intent, I strove to rekindle that same light flare of energy through me, into the staff. I felt diminishing returns as I struggled to maintain it. But it felt more like a worn-out muscle than an expended energy, in that it promised a return for the investment, given enough time and effort.