Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“What is it you need to show me?” his father asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice. He eyed Lucan as if he’d committed a crime and had been hiding it.

Lucan raised his hands defensively. That was the look his father gave him before discovering and reprimanding him for misconduct. He didn’t want a good occasion perceived as a bad one before he’d even made its elements clear. “It’s something good, father.”

His father crossed his arms, having sheathed his sword. “Well?”

Lucan decided to do something bold. He leveled his sword at his father, who raised a brow with dark amusement, then activated the Star Dance. He felt the star come into being around him, only perceivable by his mind, and he chose the point of the star closest to his father. His leap forward was faster than anything his normal capabilities could have allowed him, and it came with no indication of movement before it happened, not a twitch of a muscle, not a bend of knees, and not the forward-leaning of weight needed to aid momentum. The skill provided a bounce of energy all on its own to assist his movement once he commanded it.

His father’s eyes widened as he witnessed Lucan’s instant leap and the blade pointed at his chest. Lucan had chosen to go for the chest instead of the more threatening throat. No need to get too bold. This wasn’t even a spar. It was a demonstration

Still staring with disbelieving eyes, his father asked, “was that a skill, Lucan?” His crossed arms freed themselves as he leaned forward with the question, ignoring the sword that was a finger’s width from his chest.

Lucan nodded, failing to restrain his glee. “Yes, father,” he said, proud.

“When...” his father said, tight confusion apparent on his countenance. “Where did you get it?”

“The book,” Lucan said.

His father gave him a blank stare.

“The one from the wandering collector,” Lucan added.

“Ah...” his father, still a bit disbelieving. “The charlatan?”

“I think,” Lucan gestured at himself, “this is enough proof that he wasn’t, father.”

His father nodded with rare accommodation. “Yes, yes. Describe it,” he commanded.

Lucan described the skill, its nature as a Hybrid, what it did, and what he knew to be its limitations. Yet that didn’t seem to satisfy his father.

“Is that all you know?”

“Yes, father.”

“How long does it take for it to stop working,” his father asked, crossing his arms again.

Spirit: Basic 0/1

Skills (0) 0/100

(Passive) Swordsmanship lv20: Apprentice

(Hybrid) 7-Point Star Dance lv2: Novice (0/1)

(Active) Wraith Strike lv2: Novice (0/1)

With the second level in the skill, he could use it one more time today, hopefully learning what his father wanted him to learn about it. “It’s done, Father.”

His father nodded. “Use it and show me how fast you can move between these points. Move between any three of them. Don’t waste any time.”

Lucan obeyed, stepping away from his father to give himself some space. He activated the skill and chose three points in quick succession, leaping between them at liberating speeds. He noted that after his third successive leap, his body began to strain, and he wondered whether the more advanced stages of the skill would require a better Physique or otherwise be limited in application. He turned to speak his pondering out loud to his father but he interrupted him.

“Don’t waste time speaking. Return to the middle of the Star and then walk out of it and see if it stays.”

Lucan did as he was told and found to his chagrin that the Star disappeared as soon as he walked out of its bounds. So he was trapped in its borders as long as he wanted to make use of it. It would have been more convenient if it allowed him to return to its bounds after stepping out.

“Now you may talk,” his father said after Lucan informed him that the skill had disappeared.

Lucan told him about the silent question he’d had on his mind.

“It’s only natural,” his father said. “The skill is intense in its use of the body. You will have limitations if you don’t improve your Physique to match it. Yet I doubt that will be an issue for you, unless I haven’t taught you well enough.” He gave him a look.

“You have, father,” Lucan quickly said. He knew where most of his early Vital Orbs would be going. Physique. It wasn’t negotiable with his father. According to him, you could erect as many spires as you wanted, but a storm would flatten them like stalks of wheat without the proper foundation. The same applied to your Elder Blessing.

Lucan actually agreed, or at least the books he’d read on the matter agreed. If one was a combatant, their foremost goal had to be to get to the height of the Iron Physique, and so most resources would have to go to that pursuit, and only a minority of it to others.

“There’s not much else for us to do today,” his father said. “Continue your daily training and then join me in the study. Tomorrow we continue our skill training before you go to Sir Wolfe’s aid.”

“Yes, father.”

And so Lucan settled into a brief pattern in the next few days. He would train his skills with his father, getting more familiar with their uses and limitations. His father had him even begin to acclimate to the time it took for both skills’ cessation after activation, so that he wouldn’t be cripplingly surprised in the middle of combat while using them.

Unlike in the past, Lucan took to the training with gusto. This time he knew that soon he would be seeing real combat, against real beasts. He had never seen written accounts of easy first encounters, unless the writer was an observer. Lucan intended to be as ready as he could be.