The third day began with the now-familiar pre-dawn summons.
This time I was only one minute late. Jack made me do fifty burpees instead of a hundred.
"Improvement deserves acknowledgment," he said. "But punctuality is non-negotiable. One minute late is still late."
The warm-up threatened to break me. Every muscle in my body ached from two days of intensive training. But I pushed through, completing each exercise with gritted determination.
Stance training came next, but mercifully shorter than previous days.
"Your foundation is acceptable," Jack announced after only thirty minutes. "Not perfect, but solid enough to build upon. Today we combine the draw with the cutting motion."
He demonstrated again, that same slow-motion execution that broke the technique into observable components. The blade left the sheath already angled for the cut, the motion seamless and continuous.
"The draw provides momentum. The cut redirects that momentum along the optimal path. They are not separate actions. Watch again."
He demonstrated three more times, each at slightly different speeds so I could observe from multiple perspectives.
"Now you. Don't worry about speed. Focus entirely on making the draw and cut a single continuous motion. Speed comes after form is correct."
I settled into stance, gathered mana in my core as I'd practiced yesterday, and drew.
The blade came out smoothly, but when I tried to transition into the cutting motion, everything fell apart. The angle was wrong. The timing was off. The blade wobbled through an arc that looked nothing like what Jack had shown.
"Again."
I reset and tried once more. The result was marginally better but still clearly wrong.
"Your wrist rotation is too early. The cut initiates from your core and flows outward through shoulder, elbow, then finally wrist. You're starting at the wrist and working backward. Again."
Draw and cut. Reset. Draw and cut. Reset.
An hour passed. Two hours. My form improved incrementally, each repetition slightly cleaner than the last. But it still didn't feel right. The motion was close to correct but lacked the fluidity Jack had demonstrated.
"Stop thinking," Jack said suddenly. "You're so focused on mechanics that you've forgotten the purpose. First Light is about explosive transition from stillness to violence. Stop calculating and let your body move."
I tried to empty my mind, to stop consciously controlling every micro-movement. Drew and cut in one motion, trying to let instinct guide rather than thought.
The blade moved through a clean arc, faster than any previous attempt. Not perfect, but closer.
"Better. Again, with that same mindset."
Draw and cut. The motion felt smoother this time, more natural.
"Again."
Draw and cut. My body was beginning to understand what my mind couldn't fully articulate.
"Again. Now add the mana release at extension."
This was the final piece. The element that transformed a fast draw-cut into First Light. I gathered mana as I drew, let the motion flow naturally, and at the moment the blade reached full extension, pushed the energy outward through my arms and into the wooden practice sword.
The result was underwhelming. A slight shimmer in the air, nothing like the devastating pressure waves Jack had demonstrated. But it was something.
"Acceptable foundation," Jack said. "Again. More mana this time."
Draw, cut, release. The shimmer was slightly more visible.
"Again. Don't hold back. Commit fully."
Draw, cut, release. I pushed more mana through the channel, feeling my pool drain significantly from the single technique.
The air in front of the blade rippled noticeably this time, and a faint whistling sound accompanied the motion. The training dummy fifteen feet away, one that I wasn't even consciously aiming at, developed a shallow score mark across its surface.
I stared at the mark, hardly believing I'd created it.
"That," Jack said, a note of something almost like satisfaction in his voice, "is the beginning of First Light. Not the complete technique, not properly executed, but the fundamental structure is there. Again."
The next two hours were a blur of repetition. Draw, cut, release. Reset. Draw, cut, release. Reset. Each execution slightly better than the last, the mana release becoming more consistent, the pressure wave more pronounced.
My mana pool depleted and recovered as I worked, the Saber Garden's Chosen title providing enhanced regeneration that allowed me to continue practicing mana-intensive techniques longer than should have been possible.
The sun reached its zenith and began its descent. Sweat soaked through my training clothes. My arms felt like lead. My mana pool ached from constant use and recovery.
But the technique was coming together.
Draw, cut, release. The practice sword whistled through the air. The pressure wave struck the training dummy with enough force to create a visible impact, chips of wood flying from the strike point.
Draw, cut, release. The motion felt increasingly natural, like my body was remembering something it had always known rather than learning something new.
Draw, cut, release. The blade moved faster than before, the mana release more powerful. The training dummy's surface showed multiple impact marks now, clustered in roughly the same area.
I reset, gathered mana, settled into stance. This time, instead of thinking about each component of the technique, I simply executed. Drew the blade in one explosive motion, let it flow naturally into the cutting arc, and released concentrated mana at the moment of full extension.
The practice sword moved faster than it ever had before. The cutting arc was clean and precise. The mana release created a visible distortion in the air, a compressed wave that shot forward with force I could actually feel leaving my body.
The wave struck the training dummy dead center.
Wood cracked audibly. A chunk the size of my fist was torn from the dummy's surface, the interior exposed and splintered. The impact sounded like someone had hit the dummy with a sledgehammer.
I stood frozen, arm extended, hardly believing what I'd just done.
Then the system screen materialized in my vision.
The translucent blue panel appeared with its characteristic chime, and text began scrolling across it.
[Congratulations! You have learned a new skill through intensive practice and proper instruction.]
[Skill Acquired: First Light]
[Skill: First Light]
[Type: Active Combat Technique]
[Proficiency: Basic (1%)]
[Cost: 10 Mana]
[Description: The first art of the Einsworth Family's Flash God Technique. First Light is a quick-draw technique that emphasizes explosive transition from stillness to lethal violence in a single motion. When executed properly, the user draws their blade, executes a cutting strike, and releases concentrated mana in one seamless action that appears instantaneous to observers.]
[At Basic proficiency, this technique allows you to:]
[- Draw and cut in a single fluid motion at speeds that exceed normal human reaction time]
[- Project cutting pressure up to 20 feet from your blade]
[- Deal 150% weapon damage when successfully executed]
[- Catch opponents off-guard if they do not recognize the technique's initiation]
[Current Limitations:]
[- Extended preparation time (approximately 2 seconds) to properly gather mana and settle into optimal stance]
[- Visible telegraphing through subtle body language before execution]
[- Inconsistent accuracy beyond 15 feet]
[- High mana cost relative to your current capacity]
[- Cannot be used in rapid succession due to recovery time required]
[Proficiency Advancement:]
[To advance this skill to Intermediate proficiency, you must:]
[- Successfully execute First Light 1,000 times with proper form (1/1,000)]
[- Land 100 successful hits on moving targets (0/100)]
[- Reduce preparation time to under 1 second (Current: 2 seconds)]
[- Defeat 10 enemies using First Light as the killing blow (0/10)]
[Note: Skills learned through the Flash God Technique can be enhanced further when wielding the Einsworth Family Saber. Additional effects may unlock as both your proficiency and your soul-bound weapon's awakening progress.]