A silence fell for several seconds, before he told me that the family sword style was only available to the head of the family. Then he asked in a serious tone:
"Why do you want the sword style?"
I remained silent for a moment, then lifted my eyes to him and said quietly,
"Because… I don't have any sword style yet."
He paused, as if trying to understand something, before finally saying,
"Go to Zevren and tell him I've given you permission to choose whatever you want."
As I stood to leave, he suddenly said,
"Next week… you and your sister will attend the academy."
I shouted without thinking,
"I will never go!"
At that moment, I thought: Does he think I'm stupid? Go to that damn academy? Does he think I want to die?
He looked at me with a surprised expression and asked,
"Why don't you want to go?"
I said,
"Because it's hell."
Then I rushed out of the room.
---
When Rin left, Arkith looked at Lina and asked,
"Why doesn't he want to go to the academy? Do you know what's wrong with him?"
Lina said,
"I don't know."
Arkith muttered,
"Hmmm…"
When Lina saw Rin's back as he walked away, she thought:
He looks different than usual… he was always calm. Did something happen to him while he was gone?
---
As I left the place, I shouted,
"Damn it… why does he want me to go to that hell? I will never go… not even over my dead body!"
This place is not an academy; it's hell itself.
Damn… just thinking about it makes me angry. I need to stop thinking.
Alright… let's go get what we want. But where should I go? I paused for a moment, thinking, before asking one of the servants to guide me to the place.
As I approached, I was shocked… it was the same place I had entered for a skill before.
An old man looked at me and shook his head,
"What do you want this time?"
I said,
"The head of the family gave me permission to take the style I want."
He looked at me for a moment, his gaze truly frightening, before turning his eyes to the large door behind him.
He muttered something I didn't understand, and said,
"You may enter."
Then he added before I stepped in,
"Let me remind you… you must choose a style of rank B or lower."
I nodded, and entered.
This time the place was different from before; it looked like a large office.
I walked quietly, inspecting the various shelves.
I wandered through the place for hours, narrowing down my options each time, until finally, after what felt like forever, I chose what I wanted.
I looked at the style I had chosen.
---
[Rank B: Phantom Step Style]
The sword style relies on absolute speed and deadly attacks.
Every step and tilt of the sword increases the power of the strike.
Weakness: defense is almost nonexistent; any direct attack from an opponent can be catastrophic.
The user moves like a ghost, but pays the price with a less protected body.
This will be suitable when I combine it with the Altaria chains.
---
As I left holding the style in my hands, I felt the old man watching me. He was still standing near the door.
He said in a low voice,
"Your choice isn't bad… it's a great style."
I lifted my head to him and said,
"Thank you."
He smiled faintly, then stepped closer and said,
"If you want to master Phantom Step… don't rely on your feet alone. This style consumes your body.
If you make a mistake, you might lose the ability to move for days."
I swallowed hard and asked,
"What do you advise me?"
He shrugged and said,
"This style doesn't rely only on speed; it's about controlling your body's rhythm."
He said this, then slowly turned and waved his hand,
"You may go and train… and don't bother me again."
---
Anya's Training Room
When I opened the book, I immediately felt my mind go blank, as a flood of information rushed into my head.
I needed a moment to process all the information that had entered my mind.
I stood in the middle of the room, sword in hand, taking a deep breath… and began to try to replicate the first technique:
"Phantom Flash" — the basic move that the entire style relied upon.
At first, I moved quickly… but my feet slipped, and I nearly fell.
I muttered angrily, "Damn… this is harder than I expected."
I repeated the attempt dozens of times.
Each time I focused on one point: lightness of the feet… balance of the body… stopping my breath for a fraction of a second.
But each time, the movement collapsed again.
On the second day, I tried breaking the movement into parts… feet first, body second, breath control third…
But everything was tangled… every wrong step ruined the whole move.
By the third day, the sword felt heavier… my muscles screamed, my feet ached, and my back hurt from constant bending.
I lay on the floor many times, catching my breath, then stood to try again… all without stopping.
By midweek, the mistakes became deeper… the sword sometimes moved strangely, as if the style itself was testing me.
I tried repeating the movement… over and over… always a new mistake.
I felt my entire body:
my arms trembling, feet aching, back hurting, breath uneven…
yet I continued, repeating without mercy.
By the end of the week, I felt my body was slightly stronger, but the movement still faced difficulties… every tilt of the body could lead to failure.
I stood in the middle of the room, raising my sword, watching my shadow on the ground…
sweat covering my face, muscles aching, heart pounding… yet a strange feeling, a feeling that I was on the right path despite everything.
I hadn't learned full speed yet… I couldn't control it… but I kept going, repeating, trying, failing, and trying again.
This is training… step by step… until I reach where I want, no matter the cost.
I immersed myself in training for a whole week without pause…
---
When I left the room, I saw one of the servants standing at the door as if waiting for me.
He said in a steady voice,
"The head of the family said you must go to the academy."