With a sigh, he regarded his mentor, who was sitting idly on the floor of the cave. There were only a few days left before it was time for him to go back to Earth, and he was sure that Gordanus wanted to make the most of them.
He stretched, getting back into shape from his impromptu healing. Gordanus had pulled his strikes just enough to ensure that there was no lasting damage. Pain was a good teacher after all. He would be seeing some marked increases in his skills after this.
A few days later, after near constant sparring, Sam had improved his mastery over his weapon all the way to Brotherhood Stage 4, which was almost halfway to the next rank. Unlike leveling, furthering of one’s weapon mastery could only come with time and practice, and Gordanus had warned Sam that progress would come far slower the further that he went.
He had spent the time well, resting in between sparring sessions, and meditating upon the nature of his path. That had helped to solidify his weapon path within his mind, allowing him to catalyze its growth. It was an important part of training, as half of all prowess was mental. His body was important as well, sure, as he needed the ability to use his skills, but the actual knowledge of the skill itself was more important. Refining his weapon mastery was different than with his Dao, or with his levels. There were no clear lines of demarcation within a single stage, and it was more of a ramp than a ladder. Every step he took was small compared to the whole, but combined, it took him there as surely as if he was climbing a ladder to his destination.
Every mark of progression was more of a badge from the System than anything else, but he was still sure of the new power that he had gained, regardless of whether he had gained any stats from it. His movements were surer in regards to his weapon, and his ability to use it had gone up by leaps and bounds.
Before he had become acquainted with Mjolnir, he would have believed that blunt weapons were the most primitive of armaments. After all, who really respected the caveman, raging against the cruel world with his crude club in hand? Most would profess that the sword, or the spear, was a far more refined weapon. However, every martial path contained an infinitude of possible subordinate paths. Sam also found himself more able to comprehend the more advanced techniques that his weapon imprint entailed. From complicated feints to momentum enhancing strikes, Sam understood it all. However, there was a limit to how much he could advance within the time that he had, and not all things had gone his way.
For example, there was no way that he was going to reach level 100 before the end of his training session, no matter what he did. He had hoped for the requisite essence during the battles by Manarox’s side, but it had not come. He was in the mid eighties in level now, which was enough in any case. Nothing of any note, at least that would improve his skills drastically, was available upon reaching that rank. Perhaps if it was the threshold for E Rank, he would have tried, but that vaunted realm of strength was another fifty levels beyond that. No, he would have to hope that this was enough.
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On the eve of his final day on this world, he took a break to reflect on all of the gains that he had made here. From his acquisition of his Ancient skills, to his newfound mastery over his mana, even to his second Fragment, this sojourn to the stars had granted him great power. While he had been firmly at the top even before, he knew that he was likely one of the most powerful beings in this universe, bar none. His strength went beyond simple numerical superiority. It came from true mastery over concepts that had been previously unknown to him. At a certain point, levels were not as important as other indications of power. Gordanus had told him that an E Ranker, even a peak one, without any Daos or skills, or anything save for their levels, would be only a dozen or so times stronger than he was numerically.
As one progressed, strength came increasingly from the Dao and from elemental power. There was only so far that stats from levels could go. As Daos grew to greater levels, the boosts that they provided became extreme.
Gordanus had hinted that his own Dao gave thousands of stat points, and his weapon mastery just as many. That was more points than Sam had in total, which was staggering. If that was the strength of a lowly E Ranker, then the true monsters of this universe, the A Rankers, must have Daos of such strength that they were beyond mortal understanding.
“Having interesting thoughts, my disciple?” Gordanus asked, sitting down by Sam.
“No more than usual, master. I am merely pondering the endless tracts of progression that are still left before me.”
“I would watch out. Such obsessions can grow unhealthy. Look at me, for crying out loud. An inveterate alcoholic man child with the power of a demigod.”
Sam looked over at his mentor in surprise, and saw that the man, for once, seemed to be actually drunk. His face, normally pale, was flushed with red, and his eyes were slightly unfocused.
“Master? Are you alright?” Sam asked, concerned.
“What does it look like?” Gordanus snapped. “I found some purpose for a few weeks, and now it's already over. Back to a life of slaving away for the cruelest slavedriver there is. Power.”
There was clearly a lot that the man was not telling him, and Sam did not actually know much at all about his mentor. He watched as Gordanus stared off into the distance, relieving some past experience in his mind.
“We’re not all like you, you know?” Gordanus said after a long pause. “Able to ascend the levels like we were born to it. It is hard for a teacher to see their student surpass them, and harder still to watch someone far weaker than themselves progress at such an uncanny rate. You are a monster in the making, Sam. I hope the Multiverse does not suffer for it.”