***
Behind rolling hills, a sect sat; between the glare of the mountain wind and the still clouds. At this moment, disciples dressed in long wide-sleeved robes stood before a row of teachers. Many could not help but glance at the oddly dressed disciple in their midst, his facial features a lot more defined than theirs and his glaring blonde hair, a reminder that he was not from around there. They had never heard of those from other races training in the same sect as them before.
They had heard of the day he entered the sect. He had tricked the second gatekeeper to run around naked. This did not make him out in a good light. Many felt that he was quite rebellious to have done that. Worse, they heard later that he had been taken in by the master to train to join the drawing for the Black Hand's disciple. They had all seen that face in the sky that day. They had heard it threaten their master. He must have been the one who did that, so many frowned at his existence.
"We are about to enter the spirit forest. You must all take care not to die," the head teacher said, then gave way for the elder to speak.
"I will be leading the group of elders to enter the hills with you. Now, we will not interfere in your battles. But those who wish to leave the forest must send distress signals and we will come get you," he said and looked around their determined faces.
"Those who hunt the highest quality monster core will be allowed a spot to participate in the drawing," he said, then paused at Walter before him, "Even those guaranteed a position can lose it," before looking away. To this, many understood. He, just like many others, was not satisfied with this disciple.
"Enter!" the elder announced and many rushed in. Walter moved swiftly forward, vanishing from his spot. Those who were hoping to keep track of his movement frowned at this. When they looked around, they found that they could not find him anywhere.
Walter had not vanished, he had only used the emperor's shed to warp space to move meters away. He looked at the lush green forest around him and sighed slightly. If he stood where others were, he was bound to get attacked by unsatisfied disciples. He did not have the energy to deal with them at the moment.
"Tharl, come out," Walter said and was met with silence.
"If you continue to ignore me, I will begin to ignore you," Walter said.
"Boy, what kind of threat is that? Do you think this spirit needs your attention?" the spirit's voice rang through his head.
"Yes. Whatever you feel is best for my training is your business. Your plans for me have never been my concern. If you dare ignore me, I will ignore you," Walter said and Sprit Tharl's corporeal form appeared before him. This time, he was not a large face in the sky. He was instead the size of a tall man with rags for a sweeping robe.
"All this while you could come out and yet you did not? You must really look down on me," Walter said.
"If I did, I would have killed that old man in the mountain," Sprit Tharl said; his legs suspended in the air and the ragged ends of his robes sweeping to nonexistent wind.
"And before?" Walter raised a brow, "Besides, you do not have the power to kill anybody,"
"You think too much," Spirit Tharl said.
"Do you then? You would have killed the man if so, instead of making nonexistent threats," Walter turned and cased the place.
"You know I have plans for you and you never asked why? You trust that little girl a little bit too much, when she herself is just a pawn," Spirit Tharl said. To this, Walter doubted.
"It matters not if you believe me. Just watch out for the pack of wolves coming at you," Spirit Tharl said and Walter turned swiftly and found himself face-to-face with a pack of white wolves.
"Have those ones sitting in the emperor's shed come out and deal with them," Spirit Tharl said offhandedly and Walter glanced at him slightly. Even though he threw D'huile and the rest in there for their safety, there was nothing safe about the emperor's shed. This spirit said it as though they were sitting around drinking tea.
Walter faced the pack and pulled out a sword from the emperor's shed, "I should practise what that old man thought in real-life battle," he said and the pack attacked at once. Walter's steps were smooth from training in the emperor's shed and his strikes even more deadly. The more blood was spilt on the sword at hand, the more it released a baleful aura.
"Wait, what do you mean by real battle? There is nothing more real than the battles in the emperor's shed," Sprit Tharl scuffed. The wolves could see him, but they passed right through him, till they no more cared that he was standing there.
Walter moved like a shadow. The rough steps he had gained in the emperor's shed were a lot more smooth and refined. The old man up the mountain had taught him these steps he had learned from his predecessor. Still, the wolf pack was too many and killing them was taking too much time. Walter flashed and landed in their centre. He spread his hand wide and whispered, "Unending swords, stage one" and he was suddenly surrounded by a thousand swords.