“First form.”

“Second form.”

“Third form.”

“Fourth form. Alright, take a break and get some water.”

When I told Zeirs that I was able to perceive mana, my “tutoring” became twice as hard. More often, more intense, all the muscles in my body are sore—even muscles I didn't know I had.

At first, Zeirs taught me how to properly hold a sword—more specifically, a katana. Then I was told to perform various movements with it, slow and controlled. Each of these forms had various steps, making my body move and contort in ways I don't think a body was meant to move.

Now I've been performing these forms with more speed, which is like learning them from scratch. Zeirs, I deduced, is a perfectionist. If I perform a form wrong, I have to start over. When I was doing them slowly, it was hard, but after time I was able to do it. Now that I have to do them significantly faster, it feels almost impossible.

Failure after failure, I performed the first form at least a thousand times before I did it to Zeirs’ standards. It was extremely frustrating. I got into plenty of one-sided arguments with Zeirs.

Training my body with the sword and training my mind with meditation is all for me to reach the emerging phase of the first threshold. Once I reach that, I'll be able to influence the ambient mana in the air and control the mana that lies within me.

Once I can do that, we will see what my first element will be. As you ascend through the thresholds, you'll either develop an affinity for another element or your current element will evolve into a higher form of said element. For example, fire can evolve into lightning, earth into magma, and so on.

Since coming to this world, I've learned a few things about myself, like how much I really enjoy swordsmanship. In my world, swordsmen are really only in movies and books, but now that I've been practicing it myself, I wish it wasn't. It's peaceful in a way, performing the different forms of different styles.

Each style is different from the others. Each of them has its own personality and usefulness in different scenarios. Right now, Zeirs is teaching me his own personal style. It's based on fast footwork and minimizing unnecessary movements. Each movement that is made is made for a reason and for a purpose.

Along with learning how to use a sword, I was also being taught the philosophy of combat itself—at least Zeirs’ philosophy. He says, “You must rid yourself of doubt. Hesitation will get you killed in a fight. You must learn to separate your mind when the sword is in your hand. You must become the blade itself.”

I still haven't fully grasped this philosophy. It seems relatively simple at face value, but I know there is a deeper meaning to it, and I need to learn that to truly master this style.

“Break is over, ready your blade. Today you experience your first taste of combat.”

Zeirs’ raspy voice pierced my ears. Hearing his words made my heart skip a beat, and immediately a cold sweat washed down my back.

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Standing about twenty feet away from me was Zeirs. His tall limbs, relaxed body language, and cold gaze made me more nervous than I had ever been in my life.

My hands began to tremble, and my heart was beating out of my chest.

‘My first fight? Already! Are you kidding me? How is this fair at all?’

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath to calm myself, I opened my eyes again, ridding myself of all distractions. My vision tunneled, the flat dirt training ground that was attached to the palace was no longer being processed by my brain—it was solely on Zeirs himself.

My clammy hands held the hilt of my training katana so tight my fingers were white.

Zeirs uttered a single word in a much lower and colder tone.

“Begin.”

Zeirs’ figure blurred and appeared right in front of me, covering twenty feet in an instant.

Before my eyes could even process, my body reacted, performing the first form I had spent so long mastering out of instinct, blocking Zeirs' overhead strike. When his wooden training sword clashed with mine, a ripple of pain coursed through my bones.

Flabbergasted by my own reaction, the corner of Zeirs' lip rose slightly. He was impressed.

The next few seconds were a blur to me. A flurry of attacks was being thrown at me. I managed to block some, but many connected, sending blinding pain through my body. Zeirs then disengaged.

“Good. You’re performing quite well for someone who has never held a sword a day in their life. But that was only me using my physical strength. I did not expend a drop of mana in that exchange. This time, however, I will.”

Dripping in sweat and my breathing uncontrolled, those few seconds spent all my energy and strength.

‘You gotta be joking. Who does this guy think I am?’

Before I could even express my feelings, Zeirs’ entire aura changed, emanating off his body. It looked like heat—that was the best way I could describe it. Ripples in the air coming from Zeirs' form.

I blinked only once.

And the tip of Zeirs' wooden blade hit my solar plexus with so much force I lost consciousness.

***

‘Bright, so damn bright.’

Drifting back to consciousness, the sun from my window was right in my eyes.

“Ah. You are awake. Sylvie, can you pour Ezra a glass of water?”

The calm and sweet voice of Bel sounded from my bedside. Looking over at him, I was met with his warm crystal blue eyes. Behind him stood Zeirs with the same fierce, calculating expression on his face, and at the foot of my bed stood Sylvie.

I don't know if it was the fact that I was knocked out and probably hit my head, but Sylvie’s stoic face seemed almost relieved.

Bel’s melodic voice sounded from my bedside once more.

“You've been out for a few hours, but your bruises and wounds have already healed. It seems your new body still hides some mysteries.”

Bel’s expression was that of intrigue, as usual when it came to me. But really, all the pain was gone and the bruises as well in only a few hours. I'm starting to really like this new body.

“Here’s a glass of water. Make sure to drink slowly.”

Sylvie lingered for a moment.

“I'm—I'm glad you’re okay.”

‘Did… did she show an emotion?’

Picking up my jaw, I met Zeirs' eyes. They were as cold as ever. It seemed he did not care for my well-being at all, and I thought he was just starting to like me.

“Congratulations, Ezra.”

‘Well, that's not eerie at all coming from him.’

“I assumed you did not notice, but right as my attack hit your solar plexus, a new instinct in your body reacted.”

Zeirs' cold gaze widened slightly with excitement.

“Your hand flung forward, sending a slash of wind at my face. I nearly dodged it. That's why I have this cut on my cheek.”

My eyes widened, and my jaw fell to the floor when Zeirs spoke his final words.

“You reached the emerging phase of the first threshold. You are now officially an Aspirant.”

Quickly shifting myself to sit up.

“Aspirant? I'm an Aspirant?”

Bel smiled widely and stood up from the chair that was situated next to me.

“Well done, Ezra! This is wonderful news. We must celebrate, all of us. Let's have a feast!”

‘I did it. I really used magic.’

Meeting Bel’s gaze, a sincere smile appeared on my face probably for the first time since coming here.

“That sounds great.”