"May you be worthy to advance to the next point."
Warden lurched to sit upright and turned to the fellow who attacked him out of nowhere. It was a dark-skinned man in long robes, which looked too ordinary for someone of his station. A carved blade was in his hand, as he examined the guy he addressed as the challenger.
"So I have to defeat you to keep on climbing, huh?" Warden said, and didn't stand up. "As if the difficulty of the patterns weren't enough."
"Stand proud, challenger," the dark-skinned man said, taking his stance, the carved blade raised upwards. "You're standing before the fourth disciple of the Great Master Oa'keam. Show your worth, or dismiss yourself from the path..."
Warden tilted his head but didn't stand up. "I get all that, but can I rest a little while?" he asked. "The climb had taken a lot out of him. I reckon a person of your esteem would want to fight me at my best..."
The fourth disciple grinned at him and then shot towards him, swinging his blade. The winds swirled along his movement, augmenting his attack.
Warden cursed himself and leapt to his feet. He brought out his blade, **[The Divider]**, and intercepted the attack, even though dozens of wind blades gushed from the man and crashed into him. They left deep fleshy wounds and he had to employ radiance essence immediately to heal them.
"You have stopped my first attack, but how many can you intercept?" the man asked, bursting into a spree of attack.
"I guess we have to find out," Warden replied, pulling swirls of the pattern of his own. He employed the swirling wind to block the wind blades from the attack, while he matched the man in swordplay.
"I thought you were going to give excuses again," the swordsman shouted.
Warden shook his head and shot at the man, swinging his spear.
"Not wasting any moment, are you confident of your chances?" The fourth disciple's lips crooked up in a grin. "Boy oh boy, I like your approach... but do you think you can contend with me?"
Warden was annoyed at the sheer amount of arrogance and nonsense coming out of the swordsman's mouth. However, he didn't stray from his plan. In their little fight previously, he only got to see some of the man's flashy sword moves; he needed to bring more out of him before he could hope to gain the upper hand.
So he engaged in a more cautious defensive stance against the master of the sword. The fellow continued on spitting nonsense, but within a couple of minutes, Warden had pressed him hard enough that he didn't have the attention to spare to his mind to say anything.
"You have surprised me, rat," said the fourth disciple. "Count yourself lucky; very few have experienced my Intent and lived to tell the tale."
The fourth disciple summoned up his sword intent, which was actually something very simple. He had comprehended the essence of Sharpness, but it was polished to such a degree that one might cut themselves just by observing his intent for an extended moment.
Not only that, he took charge of the swirls of pattern again and imbued them with his Intent of sharpness, boosting their power to an unprecedented level.
The fourth disciple grinned. "Are you going to run like a little girl now?"
He shot a beam of sword moves, coming at Warden from multiple directions. Warden had no chance to block them all without calling upon his Intent—so he did. Baleful ruinous power manifested upon his spear tip, as whips of dark purple smoke oozed out.