Chapter 24: Forge

Once Cal eventually returned to the white space where Beron was, everything had changed. Instead of the endless white expanse, the space now resembled a dojo. A mat lay across the floor, and wooden walls reached upward on all four sides, leading to a flat ceiling.

"What is all this?"

Beron sat in the middle of the mat, no longer in his armor but dressed in a white robe. As Cal looked down, he noticed that he too was barefoot and clad in a similar robe.

"This place is under my control, remember? It's my choice what happens here, which is fortunate for you. Since nothing we do here, except for discovering your soul space, will carry over to your physical form, this environment is ideal for practice. You can take what you learn with you, but you'll be starting from scratch. At least you'll know the way. Now, it’s time. Join me."

Cal stepped onto the mat and faced Beron. The change in environment was striking. The dojo’s simplicity contrasted sharply with the complexity of his training, but it also felt oddly comforting. The wooden walls seemed to pulse with a quiet energy, and the mat beneath his feet felt solid and reassuring.

Beron motioned for Cal to come closer. "First, we need to ground you. Understanding and mastering your soul space is just the beginning. Here, we will focus on discipline, control, and integrating what you’ve learned into a coherent practice."

Cal nodded, taking his place opposite Beron. He could sense the gravity of this moment. The dojo, though simple, held an air of seriousness that made Cal’s heart pound with anticipation.

Beron continued, "We'll start with basic exercises. You need to build a foundation of control before you can integrate more complex techniques. Focus on your breathing, your movements. Let go of the distractions and connect with the essence of your being. Since you don't have your core, I will manifest a placeholder for essence in this space. You need to learn not to rely on your core, and since you aren't attuned, I'll make the essence pure."

As Beron spoke, the dojo was suddenly thick with essence. The air shimmered with a palpable density, so much so that Cal felt he could almost taste it. Without his essence sense, he couldn't see or feel the essence as he was used to, but with his newfound knowledge of himself, he could sense how it interacted with him through his breath.

"Normal people use tools to gauge the concentration of certain essence attunements in a location," Beron explained. "With your essence sense, you won't need that, but for right now, you will start like all new art users—blind to the power. Now, breathe it in. I want you to fill your lungs and hold it there, then force it into the rest of your body. There are invisible paths inside of you, much like veins. Find them and push the essence along them."

Cal took a deep breath, drawing the essence into his lungs. The sensation was foreign but invigorating. He could almost feel the essence as it settled in his chest, a warm, vibrant presence. Following Beron’s instructions, he held the essence in his lungs and focused on pushing it through his body. He imagined the essence traveling through hidden pathways, weaving through his veins like a flowing river.

The initial attempt was clumsy. Cal felt the essence moving unevenly, sometimes getting stuck or dispersing before it could fully circulate. Frustration and concentration warred within him, but he kept his focus, repeating the process again and again.

"Good," Beron encouraged. "Keep at it. Your control will improve with practice. The essence needs to become an extension of yourself, not just something you manipulate. You must understand its flow and integrate it into your being."

Hours turned into days as Cal immersed himself in the training. He gradually became more adept at guiding the essence through his body. He could sense its flow more clearly and began to achieve a smoother, more consistent distribution. The dojo became a place of rigorous practice and quiet introspection.

With each passing day, Cal grew more attuned to the essence and more proficient in controlling it. He learned to harness the power without relying on his core, understanding the subtleties of its flow and the precision required to wield it effectively.

The process was grueling, but the progress was undeniable. Cal's movements became more fluid, his breathing more controlled. The essence flowed through his body, each breath drawing in more and pushing the essence already within him along. He focused on expanding and strengthening the invisible pathways inside him. The more essence he took in, the harder it became to control, so he worked on building up his capacity gradually, stretching his pathways to hold more.

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Even when he reached his limit, he had to maintain a steady breathing pattern to keep the essence cycling through his body. The process was a delicate balance, with the essence threatening to overflow if he lost focus. Cal's concentration was intense as he navigated the complexities of managing the essence within him.

As he continued his practice, Beron’s hand suddenly rested on his shoulder. The unexpected contact jolted Cal out of his focused state. Some of the essence he was holding slipped from his grasp, dispersing momentarily before he quickly returned to his breathing pattern, cycling the essence through him in the background.

"Well done," Beron said, his voice carrying a hint of approval. "Now it's time for some fun."

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Cal panted heavily as he dodged Beron's relentless attacks. Without his essence abilities, he felt slower and less perceptive, struggling to keep up with Beron's speed and precision. Each strike and movement from Beron pushed him to the limit, and he had to maintain his base breathing technique while under constant pressure.

Beron, calm and methodical, advanced steadily, closing the distance between them with ease. He crossed half the length of the dojo in a few strides, his movements fluid and controlled. With a swift and practiced motion, Beron stomped down toward Cal's foot. Cal, reacting quickly, lifted his foot to avoid the attack, but the shift in balance left him vulnerable.

Before he could regain his footing, Beron took advantage of Cal's momentary imbalance. He pushed hard, sending Cal staggering backward. Cal fought to stay upright, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he tried to readjust his stance.

"Focus, Cal," Beron said, his voice steady despite the intensity of the training. "Your breath must remain steady, even in the face of pressure. The essence will follow your intent, but only if you control yourself."

Cal nodded, sweat dripping down his face as he forced himself to concentrate. He continued to breathe deeply, working to stabilize his movements and regain his balance. Beron's attacks were relentless, but each hit, each push, was a lesson, a test of Cal’s control and resilience.

With a determined look, Cal adjusted his stance, channeling his focus into his breathing technique. He began to anticipate Beron's movements more accurately, his body starting to adapt to the rhythm of the fight. The struggle was intense, but Cal could feel the progress he was making, and he pushed through the exhaustion, driven by the desire to master the techniques Beron was teaching him.

Cal’s training with Beron stretched on for days, each one blending into the next as the relentless pace continued. The dojo became a blur of intense focus and unwavering dedication. Beron’s calm, unyielding presence was a constant, his teachings a grueling test of endurance and skill.

For hours on end, Cal practiced the breathing techniques, his body aching but his mind focused. He was pushed to his limits and beyond, with Beron’s attacks coming non-stop. Each day, he faced the same challenges, but with each passing hour, his movements became more fluid, his breathing more controlled.

Despite the monotony, there was a profound sense of progress. Cal’s body grew accustomed to the continuous strain, his stamina increasing as he learned to handle the pressure. He began to anticipate Beron’s moves, his reactions becoming quicker and more precise. The essence flowed through him more smoothly, and he was able to maintain his breathing technique even under the most intense conditions.

Beron never wavered in his demands, his teaching methods harsh but effective. He kept up the pressure, pushing Cal to refine his control and enhance his skill. The training sessions were a constant battle, but each one brought a new understanding of the essence and Cal’s own capabilities.

Throughout this period, the white dojo remained a place of unyielding discipline. The essence was always present, an ever-flowing reminder of the core principles Cal was learning. The sound of Beron’s voice, the rhythm of his attacks, and the steady cadence of Cal’s breath became the backdrop of his existence.

Time felt distorted in the dojo. Days melted into one another, marked only by the gradual improvements in Cal’s abilities and the slow, steady increase in his resilience. There was no distinction between day and night, only the continuous cycle of training and learning.

Despite the exhaustion, Cal found moments of clarity and revelation. Each day brought new insights into his own potential and the nature of the essence. The process was exhausting, both physically and mentally, but there was an undeniable sense of achievement with every challenge overcome.

Beron stopped and smiled, waving his hand. Instantly, all the exhaustion, sweat, and soreness vanished. Cal had almost forgotten Beron’s complete control over the space. Beron approached him, laughter in his voice.

"That’s what I’m talking about, Cal! Well done, man. Next is the part that is the most fun, I promise. You can maintain your technique while in combat—good. But what use is the technique anyway? It’s time to forge your path, your art, your style. Let’s make all this work combat-applicable. This is the best part."

Beron opened his arms wide and exhaled a deep breath before sharply inhaling. His breathing shifted, each breath controlled but rapid, almost like hyperventilating. After a few moments, he transitioned into a rhythm: one long inhale followed by two short breaths, alternating between in and out. Then, without warning, he stopped breathing altogether, his body still. Cal’s eyes widened as Beron bent his legs, assuming a stance with his arms at the ready.

Suddenly, Beron moved, stepping forward so fast that Cal thought he had vanished. A split second later, Cal felt a light tap on his shoulder. He spun around, but Beron was already gone. While moving, Beron maintained a new breath pattern—one slow inhale, followed by three rapid exhales, perfectly timed with each of his steps. Cal tried to track his movements, but it was impossible; Beron’s speed and precision were too much.

Eventually, Beron stopped and faced Cal. "That’s one of the core techniques of my art, The Oath of Needles, It's called Point Step. Essentially, I synchronize extreme bursts of essence with my movements. The key is perfect timing—your essence and your body must move as one."

Beron paused, giving Cal a moment to absorb the information. "You’ve seen me use this in our sparring sessions, but there’s more. Another technique I used against you is called *Piercing Wind*. It allows me to strike at a distance with precision. For that, I hold my breath, gather a large amount of sword essence, and then, with a quick release of my internal essence, I shape and push it forward through my blade."

He gestured with his hand, mimicking the flow of energy. "You’ve witnessed more of my techniques, like Sword Storm and Resonation of Needles, but those are just other applications of the same principles."

Beron stepped closer, his tone shifting to one of mentorship. "But this is the part you need to understand: you can’t just copy my techniques. Your art must reflect you—your strengths, your weaknesses, your soul. Think back to what you struggle with in combat. What gaps do you need to fill? What do you lack? That’s where your art begins."

Cal nodded, feeling the weight of Beron’s words.

"Remember," Beron continued, "your art isn't just for combat. It should resonate with your soul. It’s not just about strength; it’s about understanding who you are. Your soul space holds the insight you need. Even the name of your art is important—it should reflect the path you're carving. Your techniques will follow from that."

Cal took a deep breath, realizing the enormity of what Beron was saying. His journey wasn’t just about mastering someone else's techniques but about discovering his own path, one that was true to his essence.

As Beron watched him, a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You’ve got this, Cal. Now, it’s time to start forging your way."