[Echelon Base— Training grounds]

The training ground stretched out before Ethan, a vast expanse of open space punctuated by the silent sentinel of towering trees and the soft whisper of the wind.

It was a place of solitude and reflection for him, a sanctuary where he could escape the clamor of the outside world and delve deep into the recesses of his own mind.

As he stood there, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders like an invisible burden, Emily's voice broke through his concentration like a gentle breeze stirring the stillness of the air.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her curiosity piqued by his presence amidst the tranquil serenity of the training ground.

"I'm here to test the Asura arts and how much I have improved," Ethan replied, his voice steady and resolute despite the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

"Okay. Go ahead. I will watch it," Emily offered, her tone supportive yet tinged with concern.

Ethan, attempting to tap into the elusive aura of Asura, found himself ensnared in a frustrating deadlock.

Each effort to grasp the intangible energy proved futile, slipping through his fingers like elusive shadows at dusk, leaving him mired in a sense of impotence and despair.

"Why did you stop? What happened?" Emily's voice cut through the silence like a beacon of concern, her eyes alight with worry as she observed his struggle.

"It's not working," Ethan confessed, the weight of his admission heavy upon his shoulders, his frustration palpable in the air around them.

"Why? Didn't you already obtain that skill?" Emily pressed, her confusion mirroring his own as she sought to understand the root of his struggle.

"Yeah. But I don't think I can rely on the system. It is not properly explaining the Asura's arts," Ethan confessed, his voice tinged with a sense of disillusionment and doubt.

The foundation of trust he had placed in the system that had guided him thus far now felt precarious, teetering on the brink of collapse beneath the weight of his uncertainty.

"Why don't you try again?" Emily's words were a gentle yet steadfast encouragement, her unwavering faith in him a beacon of hope amidst the darkness of his doubts.

Ethan nodded, his jaw set with determination, his eyes reflecting the steely resolve of a warrior preparing for battle.

Gathering his aura like a mantle around him, he braced himself for another attempt, his heart pounding with anticipation and apprehension.

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He tried once more, his aura flickering uncertainly like a candle in a gust of wind, but it was in vain. The power he sought remained just beyond reach, an enigma wrapped in the shadows of his mind, taunting him with its elusive presence.

"Failed again?" Emily's voice was soft, her heart aching at the sight of his struggle.

She longed to reach out and offer him solace, to banish the shadows of doubt that clouded his spirit.

"Yes," Ethan replied, the word heavy with the burden of his failure.

Each defeat weighed heavily upon him, a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead and the uncertainties that loomed on the horizon.

The problem was elusive, a riddle that twisted and turned, evading his grasp like a slippery eel in the depths of the ocean.

"I'm not feeling any different than when I utilize blood aura. But do you remember how Asura's aura felt?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and desperation as he sought a clue in the memories of the past.

In that moment, amidst the turmoil of his inner struggle, he grasped at the threads of hope, clinging to the faint glimmer of possibility that lay hidden within the shadows of his mind.

"Yes. At the beginning, it felt really sinister and turbulent, very much like blood aura, and while he was meditating, it felt as if it was utterly too much quiet like..." Emily's voice trailed off, the words escaping her like whispers carried away by the wind.

"Like a calm before the storm," a new voice interjected, cutting through the silence with a resonance that seemed to echo through the very fabric of their reality.

They turned to see an old man clad in red armor approaching, his presence commanding yet tinged with a sense of penance.

His eyes held the weight of a thousand battles, their depths reflecting the scars of a lifetime spent in the crucible of conflict.

It was Arther, the guildmaster of Dragonfang, a man whose reputation was etched in the annals of their world like a legend woven into the tapestry of time.

"What are you doing here? Don't you know our duel would take place three days later?" Ethan demanded, his voice ringing with suspicion and guarded apprehension.

"I know about our duel, but I am here because I would like to help you in whatever way possible," Arther offered, his tone sincere, his gaze unwavering as he met Ethan's hardened stare.

In his eyes gleamed a glimmer of genuine remorse, a flicker of longing for redemption that sought to pierce through the veil of mistrust that shrouded their exchange.

"And how can I trust you?" Ethan challenged, his defenses raised against the potential threat before him.

His voice was a steely barrier erected against the possibility of deceit, a fortress of skepticism born from the scars of betrayal and loss.

"You don't need to trust me. I'm just doing what I should do," Arther replied, his words carrying the weight of a solemn vow, his determination to atone for his sins evident in the unwavering resolve etched upon his weathered features.

In that moment, amidst the charged atmosphere of their confrontation, he stood as a figure torn between the shadows of his past and the glimmer of hope that beckoned him towards a brighter future.

"If you think I will spare you because you helped me, then you are mistaken," Ethan warned, his voice a blade honed to a razor's edge, poised to cut through the veil of uncertainty that hung between them.

His words were a declaration of defiance, a testament to the strength of his resolve in the face of adversity.

"I am not thinking like that. I'm already thankful that you gave my guild members a chance to live," Arther said, his gratitude genuine, his voice a whisper of humility that echoed through the tense silence between them like a gentle breeze carrying the scent of forgiveness.

"I don't need your help. Get lost," Ethan dismissed, his tone laced with defiance as he turned away from the offer of assistance, his pride refusing to yield to the vulnerability of accepting aid from a former adversary.

Arther's sadness was palpable as he retreated, his hope of making amends seemingly dashed by Ethan's cold rejection.

But a voice halted him in his tracks, a voice filled with compassion and understanding.

"Stop, sir," Emily called out, her words cutting through the air like a clarion call, her gaze soft yet resolute as she stepped forward with a plea in her eyes that mirrored the ache in her heart.

"Please teach him," she implored, her voice trembling with emotion as she locked eyes with Arther, her unwavering faith in the transformative power of redemption shining bright in the depths of her gaze.

"Emily!" Ethan protested, his pride wounded by the suggestion, his resolve faltering in the face of her unwavering conviction.

"Ethan, stop being stubborn. He can help you. Remember, only you can defeat Lunancy," Emily reasoned, her words a beacon of truth that cut through the fog of his pride, urging him to set aside his reservations and embrace the opportunity before him.

"Okay, fine. You can help me. But don't play any tricks," Ethan conceded, his voice a grudging acceptance of the help offered, his pride tempered by the realization that humility and strength often walked hand in hand on the path to greatness.

"Thank you for giving me this chance," Arther said, his voice filled with gratitude, his spirit lifted by the opportunity to contribute to a cause greater than his own.