As Marcelus gently lifted the blindfold from his eyes, a new world unfolded before him, the first thing that caught his gaze was the figure of Ayden, standing a few feet away.
The sight of Ayden was striking—youthful with raven black hair that cascaded down in a style blending boldness and elegance, accentuated by a subtle charm.
Their deep blue eyes, sharp and captivating, sparkled with an intense radiance. The contrast of a uniquely shaped eyebrow added a distinctive allure to their appearance. Their straight, well-defined nose a common trait common among Anglians.
Clad in dark brown leather pants and a crisp white top, he held a sword in his left hand, its length matching his own impressive height a hair shorter than Marcellus.
Marcellus, momentarily taken aback by the imposing size of the sword and the regal bearing of Ayden.
"Hello, Marcellus," Ayden greeted him with a feminine smile that seemed to light up the room.
Marcellus, still absorbing the flood of beauty, responded, "It's wonderful to finally put a face to the voice. I was starting to think you were a figment of my imagination."
Ayden's chuckle resonated in the room, filled with a playful warmth. "Oh, I assure you, I am very much real, but now that you can see, you have to admit, I'm better looking than you imagined," Ayden teased, stepping closer with an easy confidence.
Marcellus's attention then drifted from Ayden to their surroundings ignoring the question. His eyes roved over the vibrant hues and detailed architecture of the citadel, a sight that was entirely new to him.
The revelation was overwhelming, filling him with a sense of wonder and excitement. "I can't believe what I've been missing all this time," he exclaimed, his voice tinged "This citadel is even more breathtaking than I could have imagined."
Ayden nodded suppressing the urge to smack Marcellus, his eyes reflecting a shared sense of wonder. "Indeed, it is. And now that you can see, our journey through the first circle will be even more thrilling. We'll face whatever perils or wonders lie ahead outside of such an actuality."
As they prepared to confront the unknown challenges of the first circle, Marcellus reflected on the cunning strategy they had employed in the second circle.
By intentionally allowing some opponents to escape with minor injuries, they had inadvertently formed a group of survivors who banded together, unwittingly drawing out more cautious and skilled opponents into their path.
"But Ayden, the number of our adversaries in the second circle is diminishing," Marcel voiced his concern. "The more careful ones are harder to find, and time is running out."
Ayden's expression turned sly, a hint of a cunning plan forming. "Marcellus, we adapt. We'll move closer to the boundaries of the first circle, where the vigilant ones are likely hiding. We'll push ourselves to the limit, seeking out those adept at evading capture. When we finally face them, we'll reveal the true extent of our capabilities."
Marcel, filled with renewed determination, nodded in agreement.
As they settled down for the night, Marcellus pondered over what they were saving themselves for, the unknown challenges of the first circle looming large in his thoughts.
The next morning with their minds set and their bodies rested. Marcellus and Ayden set forth.
They shared a unique bond of blind trust that extended beyond their friendship.
Marcellus and Ayden understood the value of training with blindfolds, pushing their limits to enhance their skills and engrave precise manoeuvres into their very being.
Ayden, too, would occasionally join Marcellus in training while blindfolded.
Together, they explored the depths of their abilities, relying solely on their instincts and muscle memory.
Marcellus enlightened Ayden about the benefits of training without sight, explaining how it allowed them to focus solely on the movements and internalize them at a deeper level, a tenant of training was imagination.
One particular technique that Marcellus had struggled with was the downward slash. Its mechanics had eluded him initially, but through countless hours of practice, he had mastered it with unwavering precision.
With his blindfold on, Marcel had honed the movement to perfection, etching it into the core of his being, the downward slash became an extension of his soul, an instinctual motion that flowed effortlessly.
It was a sight to behold when others, unacquainted with training blindfolded, attempted to replicate the very same movement.
They faltered, their efforts lacking the finesse and accuracy that Marcellus possessed.
The blindfold had given Marcel an edge—a heightened connection between mind, body, and sword, all knight breathing techniques train the fighting spirit (Battle Aure to be technic) inherent in all beings with ego.
Its power lies in its ability to exponentially boost the physical capabilities of its practitioner, infusing them with unparalleled strength and unyielding resilience.
This involves the practitioner directing their inner energy, enshrouding either their entire form or specific parts of their body in a thick mantle of energy.
This mantle acts not just as armour but as an extension of their will and strength, this technique, known as 'tenma' flourishes in the absence of strict training methods.
Instead, it blooms within the practitioner through relentless and dedicated physical conditioning, revealing its secrets in a natural and intuitive progression.
Marcel and Ayden's commitment to training with blindfolds showcased an understanding.
At the core of this tenma utilizes the concept of the etheric body, the foundation of the human energy field also referred to as the ether-body or æther body.
This mystical layer is known as a conduit to the physical body; it is the forger of life's tapestry, weaving together experiences and existence. It serves as a crucial link, a bridge that seamlessly connects the mental and emotional energy systems of a being with ego.
***
[Bip... Analyzing the host...]
Name: [Marcellus ???]
Strength: [10]
Constitution: [9.8]
Stamina: [10]
Agility: [10]
Spirit Force: [0.01]
Ether Core: [3741.5]
Attributes: [Resolute Heart][Perceptive]
***
Many things have undergone a significant transformation. Marcellus's attributes had seen substantial upgrades.
For the past month, Marcel's Strength had remained at a formidable [10]. However, it appeared as though he had reached a plateau, unsure if he could push his limits any further.
Unbeknownst to Marcellus, he lacked this knowledge, as there was no miraculous manual or guide to aid him in his journey. He had yet to even conquer the Pulse Condensation.
Aside from his stats, another noticeable change occurred within Marcel's Ether Core. It seemed to have increased significantly. He found himself immersed in an ocean of EC.
If one were to look at Ayden's stats It would look like this.
***
Name: [Ayden ???]
Strength: [9.6]
Constitution: [9.2]
Stamina: [100]
Agility: [100]
Spirit Force: [0.01]
Ether Core: [4021.5]
Attributes: [Stalwart][Cold-Blooded]
***
Marcellus was well aware of Ayden stats as he and Ayden had always shared such information, ensuring their battle readiness was at its peak.
They understood each other's strengths and weaknesses, allowing them to complement one another when facing a group head-on.
Marcellus's keen perception and Ayden's strategic planning formed a formidable combination, enabling them to anticipate and counter any challenges they encountered together.
While strolling along the desolate street, Marcellus abruptly halted, his gaze fixated on a house to their left. His heightened senses of smell hinted at the presence of someone concealed inside.
Ayden mirrored Marcellus's action, coming to a halt.
The air was pregnant with anticipation as they exchanged a silent understanding, ready to investigate the mysterious figure lurking within the seemingly deserted house.
With cautious steps, Marcellus and Ayden approached the house, their movements blending with the eerie silence of the surroundings.
As they reached the entrance, Marcellus extended a hand, gesturing for Ayden to stay back and cover him. Ayden nodded, positioning a few paces behind alert and ready to react.
Marcellus gently pushed open the creaking door, revealing a dimly lit interior.
The room appeared deserted, filled with a heavy atmosphere of neglect. However, Marcellus's nose told him otherwise. His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of movement or hidden threats.
And then he saw it—a flicker of movement in the corner of his vision. Swift as a shadow, Marcellus darted towards it, his nimble form navigating through the obstacles with precision.
As he reached the source, he found himself face-to-face with a figure shrouded in darkness.
The stranger's eyes widened in surprise, their presence caught off guard by Marcellus's swift approach.
With a calm yet penetrating gaze, Marcellus broke the silence in a tone of recognition. "It is you?"
The stranger hesitated, their voice carrying a hint of unease. "I... sorry for running. I meant no harm."
The stranger's uneasy demeanour intensified as Marcellus's suspicion grew, sensing an imminent revelation, the stranger glanced over their shoulder, revealing the second person hiding in the shadows.
This individual had a wiry frame, their eyes darting nervously around the room. Their appearance hinted at a life spent evading detection, with dishevelled blood-stained clothing and a perpetual air of restlessness.
Marcel recognized the second person too!
Before Marcellus could react, Ayden swiftly stepped forward, his movements betraying a lethal grace.
With a calculated strike, he drove his long sword through the wall as he silenced a third person! ending their pursuit abruptly.
The sound of steel meeting flesh echoed through the room, accompanied by a gasp of surprise cut short.
*ah-*
These two were hiding from the person Ayden had just taken down.
As Ayden withdrew their sword from the fallen assailant's body blood dripped through the wall dismissing this sword as a mischievous smile formed on his lips.
Ayden looked at the remaining two individuals and spoke with a mix of amusement and recognition.
"Well, well, it seems we've finally crossed paths."
The first person, now visibly shaken, stammered, "You... you know us?"
Ayden's smile widened. "Oh, I am sad Marcel it seems they do not recognize your ugly mug without with lovely blindfold."
"And it seems she fails to recognize you as well," Marcel interjected, his voice laced with dry humour.
"..."
Silence enveloped the room momentarily, the weight of knowledge hanging in the air.
"We have been aware of your activities for some time," Ayden revealed, Their gaze piercing.
Marcellus, still observant and calculating, joined the conversation. "We have been playing a little game of cat and mouse. But now, it seems it's time to end our game."
The second person, who had been hiding in the shadows, stepped forward cautiously. Their eyes darted between Marcellus and Ayden, a mix of fear and curiosity lingering in their gaze. "comrades, what do you want from us?"
Ayden's voice shifted, adopting a mellower cadence as their innate charisma began to take center stage, subtly altering the atmosphere.
With a disarmingly casual air, they said, "Nothing much, just your lives and wealth."
Marcellus nodded; his piercing eyes unyielding. "We're caught in a survival game," he mused. "Ayden's hunch is that we're to battle everyone here, leaving only the fittest standing."
The first person's face transitioned from fear to a blend of curiosity and apprehension. "What do you mean?"
Ayden's smile held a cryptic charm, blue eyes twinkling with concealed wisdom. "Your alliances are futile. We've discovered numerous divisions within this fortress. My theory? They want us to clash. That's why killing someone transfers their Ether cores to you."
Marcellous subtly hinted at their deeper plan, his gaze sharp and communicating more than words. "In this precarious dance, we've been restrained, careful not to reveal too much. In a world where ears might be everywhere, certainty is a luxury."
"The frequency of our encounters in this vast citadel is no coincidence," he observed, his face a mask hiding his true thoughts. "Your group's numbers have dwindled, leaving just the two of you."
The second person, cautious yet curious, questioned, "What if we refuse to engage? You don't have to fight us. Remember, I taught you swordsmanship."
Ayden's expression hardened; their voice authoritative. "Refusal is an option. But remember, your reluctance to accept actuality almost led to our downfall. Still playing the benevolent leader?"
"We propose a different path—a chance to fight for survival, we've made plans" Ayden added, his tone now encouraging. "If you prove strong, we might ally with you. But weakness will not be tolerated."
This time, Marcellus and Ayden chose a different tactic, their previous actions against Leon and their team leaving a sour taste.
Plus, there was another matter to consider...
Marcellus's determination shone through as he declared, "Your destiny is in your hands."
A tense silence fell, the gravity of their words hanging in the air.
Leon and his companion exchanged looks of uncertainty and fear, realizing the stakes had risen.
Recognizing the moment's significance, Ayden gestured outside. "Let's settle this."
With reluctant acceptance, the pair followed Marcellus, their hesitance clear but overridden by fear.
Marcellus led confidently, his footsteps resounding in the quiet street. Leon and his companion followed, visibly uneasy.
Ayden, stepping out last, issued the challenge: "Who will face me first?"
Leon, summoning his katana, faced Ayden, who wielded his Excalibur (long sword to be technic).
Grit etched itself into Leon's stance, his resolve clear in the face of the looming duel.
Their battle unfolded as a spectacular showcase of skill and velocity, a riveting duel between two exceptionally trained warriors.
Leon's downward strikes were executed with precision, yet they paled against Ayden's masterful fencing skills and agile footwork.
Ayden's parries and thrusts not only displayed formidable strength but also refined technique.
Leon, driven by a mix of desperation and resolve, engaged with all his might.
However, Ayden's composed and skillful approach was unmistakable. Despite Leon's valiant efforts and strategic manoeuvres, he found himself steadily outmatched by Ayden's superior combat prowess.
In a daring and calculated move, Leon feigned vulnerability, creating a deliberate gap in his defense.
It was a gamble, hoping to draw Ayden into an over-commitment.
But Ayden, with his quick perception and reflexes, instantly recognized the ploy and exploited the opening, delivering a swift, precise strike to Leon's shoulder.
The resulting wound, while not debilitating, was significant enough to underscore the gap in their skills.
"You fought well, but strength isn't there yet," Ayden stated. "Skill and limit-pushing are key, yet you lack in these areas."
Ayden then turned his attention to Marcellus.
Leon looked from Ayden to Marcellus and finally to his companion Elena, realizing his fate now rested with his companion.
Elena, naturally facing Marcellus, was a rare sight in these times.
Her dishevelled appearance, marked by mud and blood, belied her inner strength. Marcel noted her resilience, as a product of harsh circumstances.
Marcellus decided to face her unarmed as a training exercise for him. "I mean no disrespect," he said.
Elena accepted the challenge, her fiery spirit evident. "I won't hold back."
Their duel commenced, a striking display of agility and raw skill. Marcellus, facing Elena's sword with nothing but his bare hands, found himself deeply impressed by her tenacity. This unconventional match-up pushed him to the edge of his capabilities, his senses heightened in the absence of any weapon.
Elena, with a sword in hand, launched a series of swift, calculated strikes, her blade slicing through the air with precision and intent.
She manoeuvred with a grace that belied the lethality of her attacks, her every step and swing choreographed in a deadly dance.
Marcellus, on the other hand, displayed an extraordinary level of physical prowess.
His reactions were fast, his body moving with a fluidity that seemed almost superhuman. Each of Elena's strikes, no matter how swift or cunning, was met with Marcellus's impeccable timing and spatial awareness.
He ducked, weaved, and sidestepped, turning what could have been fatal blows into near misses. His footwork was a blur, a skilful blend of agility and strategic positioning, making him a target that was almost impossible to pin down.
Elena's frustration grew as her attacks, though executed with impeccable skill, failed to land.
Yet, she did not let this deter her; instead, it fueled her determination. With each passing moment, she varied her techniques, incorporating feints and unexpected angles in an attempt to outmanoeuvre Marcellus's defence.
As the battle unfolded, Elena's prowess became increasingly evident.
She was no mere swordsman; her movements were both fluid and precise, challenging Marcellus at every turn.
Marcellus's ability to evade her strikes was remarkable. His deft footwork, a skill honed under Ayden's tutelage, combined with his innate agility, rendered him an elusive target, almost dancing around Elena's blade.