Year Eight began with a challenge.
"Hit me," Arcturus said.
They stood in the courtyard, as they had countless times before. Cherry blossoms drifted down around them. Fenrir watched from the side in his Battle Form, tail swishing with interest.
But something was different this time.
Arcturus stood completely relaxed. Arms at his sides. No weapon. No stance. Just... standing there.
"Commander?" Kaelen frowned. "You're not even in guard position."
"I don't need to be. You still can't hit me."
Kaelen felt a flicker of irritation. He was twelve years old now, nearly as tall as the Commander, with seven years of brutal training under his belt. He'd endured the waterfall. Fought with an open wound. Mastered weapons and tactics.
And Arcturus thought he couldn't land a hit?
"Are you sure about that?" Kaelen asked.
"Prove me wrong."
Kaelen moved.
Fast. Faster than he'd ever moved before. His fist shot toward Arcturus's face—
The Commander tilted his head slightly.
Kaelen's fist passed through empty air.
Before Kaelen could recover, Arcturus's palm tapped his chest.
Kaelen stumbled backward, his entire body locking up from the pressure point strike.
"Again," Arcturus said calmly.
Kaelen tried a feint—left jab followed by right hook—
Arcturus sidestepped both without even looking.
"Again."
Kaelen grabbed a practice sword from the rack and attacked—overhead slash transitioning into a thrust—
Arcturus caught the blade with two fingers and twisted.
The sword flew from Kaelen's hands.
"Again."
For thirty minutes, Kaelen attacked with everything he had. Every technique. Every trick. Every combination he'd learned over seven years.
He didn't land a single hit.
Finally, exhausted and frustrated, Kaelen dropped to his knees.
"I don't understand. I'm faster. Stronger. More skilled than I was. But I still can't touch you."
"Because you're still thinking." Arcturus crouched beside him. "Your techniques are perfect. Your execution is flawless. But you're executing techniques. Following patterns. And patterns can be predicted."
"Then how do I fight you?"
"You don't think. You become." The Commander stood and offered his hand. "Come. It's time you learned what true mastery looks like."
YEAR EIGHT - MONTHS 1-4: THE FLOWING RIVER
"Watch," Arcturus said.
He picked up a practice sword and began to move.
It wasn't a technique. It wasn't a form. It was... something else.
The sword flowed like water. One movement became another became another, seamless and endless. There were no distinct "attacks" or "defenses"—just continuous motion, adapting to invisible opponents.
"This is what lies beyond technique," Arcturus explained, still moving. "When you master the fundamentals so completely that they disappear. When your body moves without conscious thought. When you don't decide to block or attack—you simply are blocking or attacking."
He stopped, the sword returning to rest position as if it had never moved.
"This is called the Flowing River style. The ultimate expression of adaptability. No fixed forms. No predictable patterns. Just pure, instinctive response to whatever comes."
Kaelen stared. "How do I learn that?"
"By forgetting everything I've taught you."
For four months, Arcturus made Kaelen unlearn.
Every perfect form he'd drilled thousands of times? Throw it away.
Every technique he'd mastered? Forget it.
Every combination he'd memorized? Discard it.
"Stop thinking about the sword as a tool," Arcturus instructed. "It's an extension of your body. An extension of your will. When you want to cut something, the sword should cut. No intermediate steps. No conscious execution."
It was maddening.
Kaelen felt like he was getting worse. His attacks became sloppy. His defense had gaps. He lost sparring matches he should have won.
"Good," Arcturus said when Kaelen complained. "You're breaking down the walls you built. Now we rebuild you the right way."
Slowly, painfully, something began to click.
One day, during a sparring match, Kaelen didn't think about his next move. He just... moved.
His sword flowed naturally from defense to counter-attack, adapting to Arcturus's rhythm without conscious thought.
For three seconds, he matched the Commander move for move.
Then his brain caught up, he started thinking again, and Arcturus immediately disarmed him.
"There!" The Commander pointed at him. "Those three seconds. That's what I want. That's the Flowing River."
"But I lost it."
"Because you tried to control it. You can't control flow—you can only be flow." Arcturus demonstrated again, his movements impossibly smooth. "The river doesn't think about where to go. It simply flows around obstacles. You must become like that."
Intelligence: 1,400 → 1,520 (+120 from understanding combat at deeper level)
YEAR EIGHT - MONTHS 5-8: THE UNFLINCHING MOUNTAIN
"Now you learn the opposite," Arcturus said.
He took a defensive stance—the Mountain Stance Kaelen had learned in year one, but different. Deeper. More absolute.
"The Flowing River is adaptability. The Unflinching Mountain is immovability." He gestured for Kaelen to attack. "Try to move me."
Kaelen attacked with full force—Divine Burst backing a powerful overhead strike.
Arcturus didn't dodge. Didn't block.
He just stood there.
The sword bounced off him as if he were made of stone.
"The Unflinching Mountain is absolute defense," the Commander explained. "Not through blocking or dodging, but through becoming so rooted, so centered, that nothing can disturb you. It requires perfect balance, perfect breathing, and perfect will."
He taught Kaelen to root himself. Not physically—spiritually. Mentally.
"When you become the Mountain, pain doesn't affect you. Fear doesn't touch you. Attacks slide off your presence like water off stone."
It took months to grasp even the basics.
But eventually, Kaelen managed it. During one sparring match, he entered the Mountain state—and Arcturus's attacks simply... didn't connect. Not because Kaelen blocked them. But because he existed in a state where being moved was impossible.
"Good," Arcturus said, actually impressed. "You held it for five seconds. That's more than most warriors manage in a lifetime."
Endurance: 1,180 → 1,300 (+120 from absolute defense training)
YEAR EIGHT - MONTHS 9-12: THE STRIKING LIGHTNING
"Defense and flow are important," Arcturus said. "But sometimes, you need pure, overwhelming offense."
He picked up a spear and thrust.
The movement was so fast Kaelen barely saw it. The spear tip stopped an inch from his throat.
"The Striking Lightning is absolute offense. Speed. Power. Precision. All focused into a single, perfect strike." The Commander pulled back. "This is how you kill gods."
He taught Kaelen to compress all his strength into a single moment. To move so fast that the enemy had no time to react. To strike with such precision that defenses meant nothing.
"One hit. One kill. That's the Striking Lightning."
Kaelen practiced thrusts a hundred thousand times. The same movement, over and over, each time trying to be faster, sharper, more decisive.
His muscles adapted. His neural pathways optimized. His divine body learned to channel explosive power through a single point.
By year's end, he could thrust his sword fast enough to create a sonic boom.
"Acceptable," Arcturus said. "Against a normal opponent, that would be lethal. Against a master, it's just the beginning."
Strength: 820 → 980 (+160 from explosive power training)
Agility: 780 → 960 (+180 from speed optimization)
YEAR NINE - MONTHS 1-6: INTEGRATION
"You've learned three principles," Arcturus said at the start of year nine. "Flowing River. Unflinching Mountain. Striking Lightning. Now you must learn to use all three simultaneously."
"How is that possible? They contradict each other."
"Only if you're thinking. A master doesn't choose one or another—he is all three at once. Flowing when he needs to adapt. Mountain when he needs to endure. Lightning when he needs to strike. All flowing together naturally."
It seemed impossible.
But over six months, Kaelen began to understand.
During a particularly intense sparring match, it happened.
Kaelen flowed around Arcturus's attack (River), rooted himself against a counter-strike (Mountain), and responded with a devastating thrust (Lightning)—all in the span of two seconds, without thinking about any of it.
His sword stopped an inch from Arcturus's heart.
For the first time in seven years, Kaelen had genuinely beaten the Commander.
Arcturus smiled—a real, genuine smile of pride.
"There it is. True mastery. You're not using techniques anymore, Kaelen. You've become the technique."
Kaelen lowered his sword, breathing hard, staring at his hands.
I did it. I actually did it.
"Impressive," Crust said quietly. "Even I'm surprised. You've grown beyond what I expected."
Arcturus bowed—a formal, respectful warrior's bow.
"You are no longer my student," he said. "You are my equal. A master in your own right."
Kaelen's throat tightened. Coming from Arcturus, those words meant everything.
"Thank you, Commander. For everything."
"Don't thank me yet. We still have three and a half years. And I'm going to teach you things reserved only for those who've reached mastery."
YEAR NINE - MONTHS 7-12: THE SACRED TECHNIQUES
"These techniques," Arcturus said, "were known only to the highest-ranking warriors of your father's kingdom. Generals. Champions. Those trusted with the kingdom's survival."
He demonstrated the first technique—Phantom Step.
Arcturus moved, and suddenly there were three of him. All moving independently. All perfectly real-looking.
"It's not illusion. It's moving so fast that you leave afterimages in multiple positions. The enemy doesn't know which one is real until it's too late."
Kaelen spent months learning to move that fast. To create afterimages so convincing that even he sometimes lost track of which one was his real body.
Agility: 960 → 1,180 (+220)
The second technique was Soul Strike.
"You have divine power," Arcturus said. "But you use it crudely. Divine Burst is raw energy thrown outward. Soul Strike is different—you channel your divine essence into your weapon and strike directly at an enemy's spirit."
He demonstrated on a practice dummy. His sword glowed golden, and when it passed through the dummy's chest, the dummy collapsed even though the blade hadn't physically touched it.
"Against enemies with strong armor or physical defenses, this is invaluable. You bypass the body entirely and attack what's inside."
Kaelen learned to channel his Divine Power in new ways. Not as blasts or shields, but as an extension of his blade.
Divine Power: 580 → 720 (+140)
The third technique was Perfect Counter.
"When an enemy attacks with killing intent," Arcturus explained, "there's a moment—a fraction of a second—where their consciousness is completely committed to the strike. In that moment, they're vulnerable. Perfect Counter exploits that moment."
It required absolute timing. Absolute precision. And absolute confidence.
"You don't block. You don't dodge. You simply exist in the right place at the right time, and redirect their power back at them."
By year's end, Kaelen could counter strikes he couldn't even see coming.
"Your battle instinct has evolved," Arcturus observed. "You're reading opponents at a level beyond conscious thought. That's rare. Even among masters."
Intelligence: 1,520 → 1,750 (+230 from advanced combat prediction)
YEAR TEN - MONTHS 1-6: THE GENERAL'S KNOWLEDGE
"You're a warrior now," Arcturus said. "But one day, you'll lead armies. And when that day comes, you need to understand more than personal combat."
They spent six months studying warfare on a grand scale.
Logistics. Supply lines. Morale management. How to feed ten thousand soldiers. How to maintain weapons and armor. How to treat wounded. How to prevent disease in camps.
"War isn't glorious," the Commander said. "It's dirty. Exhausting. Brutal. For every hour of combat, there are a hundred hours of preparation, maintenance, and recovery. A general who doesn't understand this will lose before the battle begins."
They studied psychological warfare. How to break enemy morale. How to inspire your own troops. How to turn defeats into victories through clever propaganda.
"Wars are won in the minds of soldiers before they're won on the battlefield," Arcturus explained.
Kaelen learned how to command. How to delegate. How to make impossible decisions.
"You'll face situations where thousands of lives depend on your choices," the Commander said gravely. "Where sending men to their deaths is necessary for victory. That burden will never get easier. But you must carry it anyway."
Intelligence: 1,750 → 2,050 (+300 from comprehensive strategic education)
YEAR TEN - MONTHS 7-12: ZEPHRION'S LEGACY
One evening, near the end of year ten, Arcturus brought Kaelen to a place he'd never seen before—a vault beneath the mountain, hidden behind layers of divine seals.
"Your father left something with me," the Commander said. "He told me to give it to his son only when that son had proven himself worthy. Only when he'd become a true warrior."
He opened the vault.
Inside was a weapon.
It was beautiful. Impossibly beautiful. The blade seemed to shift between two states—one moment a sword of pure golden light, the next a scythe wreathed in shadow and crimson flame.
[Zephrion's Legacy]
The God-Slayer. The World-Ender. The Blade of Duality.
Kaelen reached out, and the weapon flew to his hand as if magnetized.
The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, knowledge flooded his mind.
This weapon had two forms.
Form One: Eternal Divide (Sword)
Channels divine power
Cuts through any material or magical defense
Represents Zephrion's role as creator and protector
Form Two: Soul Reaper (Scythe) - LOCKED
Channels dark power and necromancy
Harvests souls from the slain
Represents the necessity of destruction for balance
Unlocks when wielder accepts both light and darkness within themselves
"This blade," Arcturus said quietly, "is the only weapon your father ever truly trusted. He used it to forge kingdoms and to end threats that would have destroyed the world. Now it's yours."
Kaelen felt tears streaming down his face.
Father. I'll be worthy of this. I promise.
He held the sword up, and it blazed with golden light, recognizing its true heir.
[Zephrion's Legacy (Sword Form) - Bonded]
Weapon Stats:
Attack Power: Scales with wielder's Strength and Divine Power
Special Ability: Divine Severance (Can cut through barriers, magic, and conceptual defenses)
Growth Weapon: Evolves with wielder
Arcturus placed a hand on Kaelen's shoulder.
"Your father would be proud, boy. Of everything you've become."
Kaelen looked at him—this stern, brutal teacher who'd pushed him beyond every limit, who'd broken him down and rebuilt him stronger.
"Thank you, Commander. For giving me this. For giving me everything."
"You earned it. Every scar. Every hour of suffering. Every moment of doubt you pushed through." Arcturus smiled. "You're not just Zephrion's son anymore. You're a warrior who stands on your own merit."
They stood in the vault, bathed in the golden light of the legendary blade.
Two more years remained.
And then, Kaelen would return to a world that had moved on without him.
But he would return ready.
[TRAINING PROGRESS: 10 / 12 YEARS COMPLETE]
[Kaelen's Age: 15 Years Old]
[Current Stats:]
Strength: 980
Agility: 1,180
Endurance: 1,300
Intelligence: 2,050
Divine Power: 720
[Sacred Techniques Mastered:]
Flowing River Style
Unflinching Mountain Stance
Striking Lightning Thrust
Phantom Step
Soul Strike
Perfect Counter
[Equipment Acquired:]
Zephrion's Legacy (Sword Form)
[Fenrir's Progress:]
Level: 16
Dual Forms Mastered
Combat coordination at expert level
[Years Remaining: 2]