The last wave of fire dissolved into faint smoke as I lowered my hand, allowing the shield to fade. The air near the pond still carried a trace of heat from our training, and my forehead throbbed faintly from the sustained use of my ability. I exhaled, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension.
A slow, deliberate clap echoed across the open space.
Charlie and I both turned toward the sound.
At the entrance of the clearing, just beyond the low wooden fence near the path, Sham stood with his arms loosely crossed. A faint grin rested on his face as he clapped his hands once more in approval.
He approached with his usual unhurried stride, shoulders loose, as though he had all the time in the world. When he stopped a few paces away, his attention fixed entirely on me. There was no mockery in his eyes, only curiosity and a quiet competitiveness that I had come to recognize.
"Arthur," he said, tilting his head slightly, "skra-ability shield?"
"Yes," I answered without hesitation.
He gave a single nod, but his gaze did not leave me. It traveled from my stance to my hands, then to my forehead, as if trying to measure something invisible. "Skra-good control ability," he said at last.
A faint smile formed on my lips. "I am still learning,"
I replied honestly. The progress I had made felt real, but I was well aware of how far I still had to go.
Sham's grin deepened slightly. He adjusted the position of his sword at his side, fingers brushing the hilt in an absent gesture. There was anticipation in the way he shifted his weight.
"Skra-now awakened," he continued, his tone sharpening with interest, "when skra-duel me?"
I paused, letting the weight of his question settle in my mind. I had given him my word long before my ability had awakened. At that time, awakening my ability had felt distant and uncertain. Now that I had finally awakened it, he stood before me with clear expectation in his eyes, ready to claim the duel we had once spoken of so casually.
I drew in a steady breath. "Tomorrow," I said finally. "I already agreed to duel you. I cannot turn away now."
For a brief second, Sham simply stared at me.
Then his entire expression shifted. His shoulders straightened, and an unmistakable satisfaction spread across his face. It was not arrogance. It was excitement.
"Skra-meet tomorrow," he said, unable to hide his pleasure.
He did not linger. With a final nod, he turned and strode away from the clearing. A light whistle slipped from his mouth as he walked down the path, his steps almost buoyant.
I watched him go, faintly bewildered by how genuinely happy he seemed about the prospect of fighting me.
I stood there for a few moments, watching Sham's retreating figure until he disappeared beyond the trees. A faint crease formed between my brows.
Is he truly that happy just because I agreed?
His enthusiasm was not forced or mocking. It was genuine, almost childlike in its anticipation. The thought lingered with me as I turned back toward the pond.
Charlie stepped closer once Sham was completely out of sight. His expression was calm, but there was a subtle weight behind his eyes.
"Young master," he said quietly, "will you be fine? Sham is stronger than you."
I met his gaze without hesitation. "Do not worry, Charlie," I replied steadily. "I need this duel. I need to see where I truly stand. If I lose, then I lose. It will only show me how far I still have to go. And that will push me to grow stronger."
Charlie observed me in silence for a moment, as if measuring the firmness of my resolve. Then he gave a small nod.
"Very well," he said. "Then you should rest for now. We will practice again in the evening."
I nodded and walked toward the pond outside the house, lowering myself onto the flat stretch of earth near its edge. The water reflected the pale sky above, disturbed only by faint ripples whenever the breeze brushed across its surface. The cool air soothed the lingering heat in my body from training, easing the tension in my muscles and the faint pressure behind my forehead.
Charlie informed me quietly that he would take care of the house chores before stepping back inside. The wooden door closed softly behind him, leaving me alone in the open space beside the pond.
When the sun began to dip lower and the light softened, I rose and walked back into the house. The great tree stood at the center as always, its thick trunk rooted firmly through the wooden floor, branches stretching upward through the roof. I took my place beneath it and began cultivating once more.
The evening passed in renewed effort and quiet determination.
After completing another full cycle of cultivation beneath the great tree, I opened my eyes slowly and allowed the gathered energy to settle. Without wasting time, I stepped outside again to the open space near the pond where Charlie was already waiting.
We resumed shield practice.
The rhythm between us felt noticeably smoother than before. When I reached inward toward the black dot, the connection to the book responded almost instantly. The invisible thread no longer felt thin or fragile like before. It tightened with purpose, and the energy flowed with greater stability when I shaped it.
Charlie varied the speed and angle of his fire, testing my reactions. Each time I raised my hand, the shield formed faster than it had weeks ago. It still strained me, but there was less hesitation in its creation. The barrier responded more faithfully to my intent.
When we finished ability practice, I sheathed the sensation of energy and drew my sword instead.
The duel would not be decided by shields alone.
Sham was physically powerful and far more accustomed to direct combat. If I relied solely on defense, I would eventually be overwhelmed. I needed my body to respond as instinctively as my ability.
I moved through basic footwork drills first, shifting my weight from heel to toe, pivoting, stepping forward and back across the flattened earth. Then I repeated simple strikes, controlled and precise... again and again.
I imagined Sham's larger frame advancing toward me. I practiced angling my body to reduce his reach advantage. I worked on quick lateral movements, forcing myself to stay light on my feet rather than bracing head-on.
By the time the sky darkened fully, my arms felt heavy and my breathing had deepened into a steady rhythm. Sweat clung to my back and brow, but my movements were sharper than when I had begun.
The next morning arrived beneath a clear, open sky. Pale sunlight spilled over the village roofs, washing the wooden structures in soft gold. The air was cool but carried the promise of heat later in the day.
Charlie and I left early, walking side by side along the worn path that led toward the training grounds. The village was already stirring. Smoke rose in thin streams from cooking fires, and voices drifted through the streets as people began their routines.
As we drew closer to the clearing, the steady rhythm of training reached us first. Wood struck wood in measured beats. Feet scraped against packed earth. Short shouts and corrections echoed through the air.
The training ground was already alive with activity.
Several young warriors moved through their stances in unison, gripping wooden practice weapons with focused expressions. Others sparred in pairs, circling each other carefully before committing to strikes. The ground bore marks of countless previous sessions, flattened and scarred from repeated impact.
Near the center of the clearing stood Rokar and Kal.
Kal demonstrated a powerful downward strike, his movements heavy but controlled, while Rokar adjusted the posture of a younger fighter, repositioning his feet with patient precision. Their presence anchored the entire space. Even without raising their voices, they commanded attention.
Off to one side of the main clearing, where the ground opened into a smaller space, Sham stood waiting. His sword rested casually against his shoulder, one hand gripping the hilt while the other hung loose at his side. He looked relaxed, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that betrayed his anticipation.
He noticed us almost immediately.
A grin spread across his face, and he lifted a hand in greeting without lowering the sword from his shoulder.
Charlie and I walked toward him across the packed earth. I could feel a few curious glances following us from the other trainees, whispers beginning to stir as they sensed something different in the air.
"Good morning," I said when we stopped a few steps away.
Sham's grin widened. "Skra-came. Thanks."
I gave a small nod in response. There was no tension between us yet, only expectation.
Before either of us could continue, a deep voice called out from behind me.
"Arthur."
I turned at once.
Rokar and Kal were approaching from the center of the training ground. Even in simple training attire, both men carried an undeniable presence. Rokar's broad frame and steady stride gave him the weight of a seasoned warrior, while Kal's sharp gaze missed nothing as it shifted between Sham and me.