Half a year. That was how long it took for Carrera to understand, and execute the fundamentals of Mr. Stark's sword technique. She didn't realize it would take so much time to learn the basics. Her previous experiences learning new weapons and styles were useless. They were based on shadowing her opponent's moves to create a shallow copy. After realizing full mastery required her to discard such notions, she had to pour significantly more effort and time into her attempts.

And even after all that time, he still refused to divulge the name of the beautiful sword art. With its fluid movements reminiscent of a flowing, but crushing tide. Carrera surmised it must've had to do with a river. But to her exasperation, he stubbornly denied her attempts at gleaning its name. She believed it would hasten her progress of learning it, but she was never successful.

She thought maybe knowing it's name would provide a different perspective to her learning. Alas, she could only go through the motions with her instructor. At the moment, she was only capable of executing the basic flow of the battle art. She still was unable to learn the sword moves ingrained within the technique, which would've exponentially boosted her strength. There was only so much damage an individual could do with their sword art's fundamental movements.

She could recall the exact moment she had unlocked the beautiful art. During a usual spar she felt her mind fill with seemingly limitless knowledge. Her first step into a grand realm that previously eluded her. It was like she stood at the peak of the highest mountain, indulging in the whipping wind and vast horizons splayed out before her.

She had felt attuned to the blades in her hands like they had become one. Her slashes gaining a mesmerizing quality reminiscent of a flowing stream. With fluid and swift strikes, she became an unstoppable whirlwind of deadly steel. She felt at the top of the world, her brain working in overdrive to put to use the technique flowing in an unstoppable tide through her mind.

Her neurons fired on all cylinders, while her movements resembled a crushing river. She was drunk on the surge of power that came with learning a new skill, and deeply proud that the tireless months of training had borne fruit. She had been so caught up in the surge of strength, she didn't notice her mentor calling for a time out.

She was shaken out of her reverie by a dominating aura that filled the small space, like a divine being had descended. It wasn't the first time she had experienced it; but the sheer power contained within the molecules that governed the air left her breathless nonetheless.

With a pained groan, her legs wobbled before giving out from under her. Her heart was shaking uncontrollably, threatening to burst out of her chest. It was a very useful tool he used when she wouldn't listen to him. But she had a small inkling he wanted to show off. Like a light breeze, the aura dissipated as swiftly as it came.

"Look's like you've made a breakthrough," he nodded with a hint of pride. "Of course its exhilarating to get a new skill, but you can't ever let something like that cloud your judgement. While your technique has become exponentially more profound, there were many openings in your form."

Carrera returned with a terse nod, balancing the blades in her hands. She was beyond herself, excited with what the future held in store. She had inherited a sword technique from someone at the level of her father; a powerful ruler in a league of his own. She had taken a step in the right direction on her path to strength. But it was only a single step.

"When you gain access to the Records, you'll be able to view your skills. Most spells will start off at different grades, but its different for combat arts. All combat arts will start at G, and it requires the user to increase their mastery over it," Mr. Stark summarized with familiarity. "The only difference between a low grade, and high grade combat art is their limit. A combat art's limit determines its strength. I still don't know the limit of my own creation! And I've already risen its grade to A!"

With a shameless smile he continued to heap praises and glory upon himself. But they weren't without weight, raising the grade of skill to A was a monumental task. People could devote their life to one art and never be able to reach such a level; significantly more so with such a powerful technique.

The long months the duo had spent together training endlessly had allowed Carrera to learn a thing or two about the enigmatic man. But he still wouldn't reveal anything about his son, or his past as if it was taboo. She wasn't one to pry anyway.

He was lazy, and exuded an atmosphere of sluggishness like he was indifferent with the world around him. When it mattered, he would show rare cases of seriousness that scared her. But he was also hopelessly shameless, and sleazy.

One moment he would utter empty platitudes, then seconds after reveal some profound knowledge. Truly an individual full of contradictions. But she had to acknowledge his strength, a peak she couldn't hope of ever reaching.

Mr. Stark jolted her out of her musings. "You've done well, Carrera. And now that you've learned the base combat art, my time is about up."

With a frown, Carrera's expression showed signs of crumbling. Her wall of indifference had slowly deteriorated with each passing day spent with Mr. Spark, much to her surprise. She would start to showcase more emotion, which she felt conflicted about.

"You're leaving?" She hesitantly inquired.

With a shrug, Mr. Stark averted his eyes from the young lady before him. "Something came up, and it seems I've just about wrapped up around here. You'll be able to slowly grasp the sword techniques with due time, you've already established the foundation."

His eyes finally focused on her after wandering around the ceiling. "But, I didn't forget about what I said back then. I knew I haven't gone senile! It was a wise decision to train you, and I won't let my valuable protégé rot in this dungeon."

He added with a scoff, "Plus I'm getting tired of lying to your father, and acting like I've been throwing you around."

Carrera's heart warmed. No matter what happened to her in the future, she would treasure the last six months she'd spent with Mr. Stark. She was like a father to her, a figure she had never had growing up. He didn't only teach her how to fight, but a bit of his ideals had seeped into her. Her grand goals hadn't changed; but it did allow her to think about what would follow.

Suddenly, a divine energy permeated the air around Mr. Stark. His clothes fluttered, and strings made of strange symbols rotated around him. The sentences comprised of weird letters glowed with a white light, as their speed of revolution increased. They bended to an invisible force while they weaved together to form a cohesive image.

With his white hair and heavenly aura, he looked like a deity; summoning a wealth of extraordinary power to create a miracle. For the first time, he truly looked the par with an individual that had stepped into the realm of divine.

'What happening?' She voiced a silent question in her head. She expected him to leave through the way they came- maybe bulldoze their way through the castle's defenses. With his level of strength, it would be child's play for him to decimate any Exalted that stood in their path. But he did something completely out of her expectations.

In a cascade of the light, the symbols coalesced into a large vertical oval that expanded to Mr. Stark's height. With a frosty energy condensed within a border of cryptic symbols, it exuded an air of majesty and mystique. She could tell instantly it was a portal.

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She had seen larger portals in the City of Serenity, designed to transport crowds over large distances. Humanity was no stranger to such space manipulating contraptions. Expert magic-craftsmen and mages had contributed to its creation decades ago. A combination of runic sorcery, mana cores, and a variety of ores managed to create a power capable of moving individuals across vast distances.

It wasn't without drawbacks- portals of such grand size required proportional amounts of mana to sustain it. In addition to the costly materials and energy required to sustain, only wealthy nations and cities possessed one.

And even the most skilled of mages were incapable of producing their own portals for convenience. It required extraordinary amounts of energy and an intricate control of mana to boot. Without the aid of specific contraptions and materials it was very difficult to create one with your own strength.

The unique letters comprising the portal looked vaguely familiar to Carrera. She had been forced into a curriculum ripe with a variety of topics. Stretching from staging grand warfare to nation economics. Anything potentially valuable to a heir that would rule over a nation was ingrained into her head.

'Runes.'

A form of mage-craft utilizing ancient symbols and language to stir the powers of mana. Only those proficient in magic, or possessing a compatible Inherent or Trait would be able to use runes to their full potential. They were conduits of power and capable of inheriting the limitless range of possibilities available to mana. What Carrera learned was: depending on the rune, the corresponding element or phenomena would produce their own respective energy.

For example, a rune responsible for fire would cause the symbol to glow red or orange, before producing a fire-related phenomena. The problem was the runes comprising the portal and revolving around her teacher were a stark white; giving off a holy aura. Witnessing such displays of rune magic before, she could tell with a glance the power contained within the runes before her held significantly more power.

Snapping out of her stupor she recognized the odd difference. "You're from the White Rune Order."

With a sheepish smile, Mr. Stark nodded in response. The runic sentences flowing around him dissipated into thin air, but the portal still remained.

Like Shadow Covenant, they were one of the four major powers in the human domain. They were also descendants of a holy being, the Lord of Light. Those that inherited his divine lineage would be capable of utilizing white runes among other abilities; which were infinitely superior then regular runes. She didn't know the specifics, but it made the White Rune Order a bastion of holiness.

Their Rune Knights were renown across the lands for their sense of justice, and power. Any defiled creature unfortunate to cross their paths would be eradicated, evil organizations dwelling within the shadows uprooted like weeds under their valiance. They were one of the sturdy pillars of humanity against the unstoppable tide of Abhorrents.

The depth of her mentor's past and abilities were far beyond what Carrera previously thought. She knew he ranked at the peak of demigods, and possessed unrivalled skill with the blade. She didn't pay distinct attention to his physical features, but looking back at it now they were a slight giveaway.

Those of purest blood hailing from the Lord of Light had white hair, contemplated by silver eyes. It made them stick out among the populace, but their traits were relatively tame compared to individuals of other descents.

As a former noble, she was no stranger to the politics surrounding their nation. Her education went as far as noble etiquette and courteously. Those from the White Rune Order were mortal people that always claimed to be under the banner of righteousness. But from her brief exchanges with their knights, she sensed arrogance. An air of haughtiness that betrayed their valorous expressions.

Shadow Covenant strived to maintain a delicate balance between each power, and the White Rune Order was no exception. While their knights didn't all inherit the power of white runes- that didn't make any of their other inherited powers useless. If anything, the Rune Knights were arguably the strongest organization of Exalted at present time. But those from the Red Empire vigorously denied such notions. They were very prideful when it came to anything related with strength, after all.

"As a heir to Shadow Covenant, you would be familiar with it," Mr. Stark said carefully like he was trying to avoid offending her. "I didn't see it as very important to divulge to you."

She listened to his words half-heartedly- more interested in the portal before her. "I should've guessed, I'm honestly surprised I didn't figure it out sooner."

Mr. Stark chuckled, "Well, I'm from the White Rune Order. Not exactly a part of them anymore."

Carrera's brow tilted, "You're not serving them anymore."

"More or less, I got tired of all of the higher-ups' bickering. Being there was always so suffocating," he complained. "Always do this, always do that, it was never-ending."

Carrera empathized with his complaints. It felt similar to her previous situation. Bogged down by a sea of obligations, expected to this or that. After knowing him for so long, she still sensed there was a deeper meaning behind his reasons for leaving. She deduced it must've been related to his son he refused to talk about.

She turned to the glowing oval next to her, scrutinizing its structure. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. Freedom was sitting right in front of her. Imprisoned in an obsidian prison for almost a year, she was starving to bask in sunlight. She wanted to enjoy a warm bath, and eat delicious food like a human being. If not for Mr. Stark, her mind would've long crumbled under the pressure from her family and endless duels.

"How will you deal with my father?" Carrera inquired, a hint of concern making it's way into her tone. She knew Mr. Stark more then capable of fending for himself. But Shadow Covenant was a large-scale nation with a plethora of power. It wouldn't be beneath them to hunt a demigod.

He frowned, as if the question had never crossed his mind before. "Mm, I didn't think that far yet."

She was unconsciously trying to prolong the time she had with Mr. Stark. She had a feeling she would never see him again if she stepped through the portal before her. The six months had passed in a blur, marked by torturous training and endless duels. But the white-haired, silver-eyes man before her had left her with memories she would never forget.

She also couldn't help but feel baffled by his response, he really didn't think that far yet? She had forgotten he acted completely on his own whims, neglecting to take into account the bigger picture. It was truly a wonder how he had managed to live for this long.

"You should know my father can hold grudges for a long time," she pointed out. As evidenced by her current predicament, he wouldn't let any attack on him or his goals off so easily.

"Bah, Trenus has always been so uptight," Mr. Stark scoffed. He waved his hands in annoyance, "If I had it my way, I'd storm into his room and beat him silly."

She frowned, trying to imagine him beating up her father. She could strangely imagine it in vivid detail, such actions aligned with Mr. Stark's character. It also raised more questions about his past. How exactly did he meet her father? What bond did they share, and how could they turn out so differently.

"Will I be able to see you again?" Carrera asked.

"Aww, you'll miss me?"

"Don't delude yourself."

With an amused expression, Mr. Stark chuckled. "If you become strong enough, and feel tired of pursuing a path of vengeance, you can seek me out if I haven't kicked the bucket yet." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Hmm, go to a small mountain village on the Eastern Continent. It's called Emory, a peaceful town situated at the foot of a nearby mountain. Say you want to see 'Shattered Blade.'"

'Shattered Blade? What a weird moniker,' Carrera mused. Most epithet's were enigmatic in nature, but this one was very different from the one's she had heard. They were supposed to be titles representing an individual's being and accomplishments. What had Mr. Stark encountered to obtain such a epithet?

She never took him to lounge around in some remote village either. She wondered if there was a specific reason he chose such a secluded place on the Eastern Continent.

"What are you waiting for?" Mr. Stark asked, watching her unmoving form. "I can't keep it open forever."

With a sheepish smile, "Say, what if I meet your son in the future?" Carrera decided to do something slightly out of character. It would be the last time she would speak with him most likely, and she didn't want it to be marked with heavy feelings. Albeit slowly, the indifferent wall she had erected around herself had slowly crumbled. It didn't completely disappear. But it did seem to have been weakened by the man before her.

Mr. Stark frowned, caught off guard by the random question. "I won't allow him to climb Halcyon, if that's what you mean."

Carrera was slightly caught off guard by his firm declaration. She knew he deeply cared about his son, but going as far as to not allow him to climb the Tower was an interesting decision. Especially since he would be the son of a former hero.

"Okay, but what if?" She prompted again curiously.

With an expression of exasperation, Mr. Stark's brows knit in thought. After a couple of seconds of deliberation, he provided a response that slightly caught her off guard.

"Don't fall in love with him."

"HUH?!"

Before her mind could adjust, a soft shove sent her into the glowing white portal. The last thing within her eyes was the father she never had. Short white hair, sluggish demeanor, and silver eyes. She tried to ingrain his image into her head, as her consciousness was pulled into a tunnel of stars.