The silence between us stretched, heavy and suffocating, until the white-haired figure finally broke it. His voice was a paradox—gentle, yet as cold as a winter gale.
"And who are you?" he asked, his single crimson eye boring into my soul. "What is your name?"
I felt a prickle of irritation. I was the one who had been interrupted during my meditation, after all. "Tsk. I'm the one asking the questions here," I muttered, loud enough for the mountain air to carry it. I straightened my posture, meeting his gaze with my own gold-hazel eyes. "The name is Oliver Veyron."
The figure paused, his expression remaining an unreadable mask. He repeated the name softly, as if tasting it. "Oliver, is it? So... you're the Oliver, huh?"
I raised an eyebrow. Apparently, my reputation as the famous tier-one was spreading faster than I thought. "And you are?"
He stared at me for a long beat, the wind whipping his white hair across the eyepatch covering his right eye. "I'm Ryan... Ryan Zeo."
"Ryan, is it? It's good meeting you," I said, though the atmosphere suggested anything but a friendly encounter.
"Save the pleasantries," Ryan snapped, his tone sharpening. "What are you doing around here? I came here for privacy."
I opened my mouth to reply, but a boisterous, familiar voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter.
"Hey, Ryyaann! How are you doing today? I've been searching all over for you, and I guessed you'd be lurking up here!"
Sherach Leon came bounding up the mountain path, his energy as boundless as ever. He skidded to a halt, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. "Oh, Oliver! You're here too? Perfect timing!" He turned his attention back to Ryan, who was still perched on the rock above us like a gargoyle. "Ryan, if you don't mind, this spot is going to be occupied for a little while."
Sherach flashed an innocent, toothy grin that was clearly intended to annoy. If this were an anime, I was certain a red vein would have popped out of Ryan's forehead.
"You've started again, Sherach," Ryan said, his voice dropping an octave. "What's that annoying, carefree attitude of yours. You aren't that little kid anymore who can just demand whatever he wants."
The two figures locked eyes. The air between them began to vibrate, a silent clash of tier-nine wills that made the grass around them wilt. The tension was thick enough to choke a normal student, but I stood my ground, my Nebula heart spinning at a high frequency to keep my internal organs from being crushed by the pressure.
Finally, Ryan let out a long, weary sigh. He stood up and, in one fluid motion, leapt from the high cliff. Instead of crashing into the pool at the base of the waterfall, he landed softly on the surface of the water. He didn't sink. He stood there, the water rippling slightly under his boots as if it were solid glass.
I stared, my mouth slightly agape. I had seen a lot of things since my reincarnation, but seeing a human stand on liquid was a visceral shock to my logic system. Ryan turned back to us, his hands tucked into his pockets.
"Troublesome pipsqueaks," he whispered. With silent, ghost-like steps, he walked across the water and disappeared into the treeline.
"Why is that dude so cold and distant?" I asked, my curiosity finally winning. "And more importantly... how is he standing on water?"
Sherach gave a short, bark-like laugh. "That's just Ryan. He's been that way since we were kids. He's a kind of wanna be alone type." Then, Sherach stopped and looked at me with a look of pure confusion. He reached out and gave me a resounding knock on the head. "Wait, what? Don't tell me that even with your level of strength, you don't know how to walk on water?"
"Ow! Well, yeah, I don't!" I rubbed my hurting head, glaring at him.
Inside my mind, I felt a distinct, digital sigh from the god sage system. It seemed even my own system was disappointed in my lack of basic world-logic.
"Alright, I won't blame you," Sherach said, shaking his head. "I'll enlighten you. You know about how mana veins work right?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"Then that make things easy. Standing on water is about total control. You have to channel the mana from your core, move it through your veins with absolute precision, and concentrate it at the soles of your feet. You create a thin, high-pressure film of energy that interacts with the surface tension of the water. Like this..."
Sherach walked onto the pool. I watched intently. To a normal person, he was just standing on water. But I understand the whole process now. The world shifted into an X-ray view. I could see the glowing blue mana rushing from his navel, branching through his legs, and pooling at his heels and toes in a perfect, oscillating pattern. It was a masterpiece of bio-energetic engineering.
"See? This is how it's done," Sherach said, looking back at me.
"Thank you for the enlightenment, Senior," I said, a smirk forming on my face. "I guess I'll have to give it a try."
"Alright, let's see how fast you learn," Sherach challenged, walking back toward the shore but keeping one hand in his trouser pocket.
I closed my eyes. I visualized the galaxy-like core in my inner world and pulled a thread of stardust downward. I concentrated the mana into my feet, mimicking the exact frequency I had just witnessed in Sherach's veins. I took a leap.
Splash.
No—there was no splash. I was standing. The water felt firm yet springy beneath my boots. I shifted my weight, testing the tension. I was actually doing it.
"Wow, Oliver," Sherach said, his eyes widening in genuine shock. "You never cease to surprise me. You replicated a diamond-tier control technique on your first try without a single flaw. Impressive."
"Thanks for the compliment, Sherach," I said, feeling a surge of confidence.
This guy might be the real deal, Sherach muttered to himself, his playful eyes sharpening with a hint of predatory interest. "Alright, Oliver. Remember what I asked you for yesterday?"
"You mean the sparring stuff?" I asked. But before the words could fully leave my mouth, the world blurred.
Shit! I didn't even see him move!
It was too late. Sherach had closed the distance in a fraction of a second. I felt a massive impact in my gut—the hilt of a wooden sword. The force was like being hit by a runaway train. I was sent flying backward, my body skipping across the water before I crashed into the side of a stone cliff.
The world spun. I coughed, feeling the air leave my lungs, but I forced myself to stand. I wiped a bit of dust from my chin and smiled. "You're an impatient one, huh?"
Sherach appeared in front of me instantly, looking astonished. "I'm actually amazed you didn't pass out from that hit. You're a tough guy. Here..."
He tossed a second wooden sword at my feet.
"It'll be fairer if you use one too. Don't worry, I'm holding my strength back to match your base level. I won't kill you."
Under normal circumstances, I preferred my fists, but this was a tier-nine SS rank level we are talking here. I gripped the wooden sword, feeling its weight. I fell into a low stance, the god sage system beginning to calculate the angles of the blade.
"Alright, let's give weapons a try. Not that I've used them much in this life."
Sherach smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Be careful while I go easy on you."
"Don't worry, just bring it—"
CLACK!
I didn't even finish my sentence before I had to snap my sword upward. Sherach's blade was already inches from my skull. The force of the collision released a shockwave that kicked up the dust around us. My knees buckled slightly under the sheer weight of his held back strength.
No way! He's this strong while matching my level? I thought, gritting my teeth.
[It is true,] the System whispered. [He has lowered his output to match your base physical strength perfectly.]
"Tch. So I was this weak?." I felt a spark of genuine annoyance.
"Sherach, don't you dare mock me!" I yelled. I parried his swing upward, twisting my body to deliver a lightning-fast back-kick toward his ribs.
But Sherach was like water. He flowed around my kick with terrifying agility. Before I could even pull my leg back, I felt the cold, blunt tip of his wooden sword resting against the side of my neck.
"Patience, Oliver," Sherach said softly, retreating his sword and resting it casually on his shoulder. "Don't let your emotions get the better of you. In a real fight, that anger would have cost you your head."
He backed away, getting into a fresh stance. "Let's go again."
I lunged. I swung. I feinted. But every single attempt failed. No matter how fast I moved or how much mana I channeled into my strikes, Sherach was always one step ahead. It was like fighting a shadow. After ten minutes, I was panting, my uniform drenched in sweat, while Sherach hadn't even broken a sweat.
"Hey, Sherach... aren't you kind of a cheater?" I gasped, leaning on my wooden sword.
Sherach let out a short, melodic laugh. "What you call cheating isn't cheating, Oliver. It's a technique."
"Then what is it? How are you parrying everything before I even think of it?"
Sherach's expression turned serious for the first time. "The technique is called Perfect body flow, Kaishi. It's not about speed, and it's not about strength. It's about the soul leading the body, rather than the mind. Do you want to learn, or are you done for the day?"
I looked at my trembling hands, then I stood up straight. "Again."