Richard was still swaying in his hammock,
not moving,
not speaking,
not paying any attention.
"It's hot…" Ryn thought.
"The sun is really scorching today."
He looked down at the branch in his hand, then at the shallow cuts on the tree trunk.
"If I had a heavier sword… a sharper one… this tree would've already been cut down."
Ryn froze.
It was like something had struck his mind.
Yes… the feeling.
Sunlight—
even though he had never seen its form,
never touched it—
he could still feel its heat.
So if that was the case…
Ryn took a deep breath.
The branch in his hand was still just a branch.
But in his mind, it had already changed.
"It's heavy."
"It's sharp."
He swung.
Slash.
The sound was different from every time before.
Ryn froze, eyes wide.
A deep cut had appeared on the trunk—
clearly deeper than anything he had made before.
His heart pounded.
He understood now.
It wasn't just about imagining it.
He had to feel it.
In the shade, Richard narrowed his eyes,
his gaze fixed on the figure standing motionless beneath the blazing sun,
drawn by the sound of that strike.
Ryn closed his eyes once more.
He thought of the droplet of water—
the tiny drop his master had once flicked at a tree.
Small…
yet razor-sharp,
and devastatingly powerful.
"My blade…" he thought.
"Heavy. And sharp."
He focused all of his concentration on a single idea—
sharpness.
So sharp…
sharper than anything,
sharp enough to cut through all resistance.
He swung the branch.
CRACK—!
The air split with a thunderous roar,
like lightning tearing through the sky.
In an instant, the massive trunk was cleaved cleanly in two.
BOOM—!
The giant tree collapsed, its fall shaking the entire training ground.
Ryn stood there, panting,
his grip tight around the broken branch,
his eyes fixed on the fallen tree before him.
And beneath the shade of a nearby tree,
Richard… smiled faintly,
without saying a single word.
Richard rose from his hammock and walked over to the fallen tree.
He studied the clean, razor-sharp cut for a moment before turning to Ryn.
"Remember this well,"
his voice calm, not loud, but unmistakably firm.
"Imagination is important.
It gives your power form—
a frame, a vision, a direction."
He lifted his hand slightly, as if grasping something invisible in the air.
"But it is feeling that binds that imagination…
and turns it into reality."
His gaze locked onto Ryn's eyes.
"No matter how clearly you can picture it,
if you don't feel it,
it will remain nothing more than imagination.
It will never cross the line into something real."
Richard turned away from the cleaved tree.
"Go eat. Then get some rest."
He began walking back toward his house, not bothering to look back.
"Tomorrow morning,
we'll test your imagination."
Ryn stood still for a moment, Richard's words echoing in his mind.
He lowered his head slightly.
"Yes…"
Then he turned and quietly followed the order.
His heart was still racing—
but this time, it was filled with understanding.
Morning arrived with a thin veil of mist.
Ryn opened his eyes,
and the first thing he saw was a massive boulder towering in the middle of the training ground—
as if it had been placed there overnight,
waiting to challenge him.
Richard stood beside the massive boulder, arms crossed, his gaze calm and steady.
"So, you're awake,"
he said without turning around.
"Let's get some exercise before breakfast."
He paused briefly, then added in a half-teasing tone,
"Whether you get to eat, though…
that's another matter. Go get your sword."
Ryn nodded.
"Yes, sir."
He hurried to retrieve his weapon, and when he returned to his position, Richard spoke immediately.
"One strike,"
his voice now serious.
"No second chance."
He pointed at the boulder.
"If you fail, you skip breakfast.
Try again tomorrow."
Ryn nodded once more, then stood still, eyes fixed on the towering stone before him.
Richard stepped back, watching from a distance—
not speaking, not rushing him, not applying pressure.
The training ground fell into silence.
Ryn closed his eyes.
His breathing slowed.
Thought, feeling, and imagination began to overlap.
The supply unit arrived with the morning meal.
Seeing the boy standing motionless before the boulder, they chuckled quietly among themselves.
But Ryn didn't hear them—
or perhaps he chose not to.
Because in his world now,
there was only the sword in his hand…
and the obstacle before him.
When his mind became perfectly still,
imagination connected seamlessly with feeling.
Ryn opened his eyes, raised his sword above his head,
and brought it down in a single, decisive swing.
BANG!
The explosion-like sound shook the entire training ground.
The supply unit, who had been about to leave, froze in their tracks and turned back in shock.
The massive boulder split cleanly in two—
as if cut by a blade that did not exist.
Ryn stared at the result before him, then let out a long, relieved breath.
Behind him, Richard smiled faintly to himself.
But when he turned his gaze toward the supply unit, they flinched and hurriedly pushed their cart away, as if they wanted to see no more than necessary.
Richard walked closer to the shattered stone and crouched down to examine the cut.
He lightly traced the surface with his finger.
"Not bad."
He gave a small nod.
"The cut is clean enough…
but you still have a long way to go."
Richard then turned to Ryn.
"Come.
Let's eat."