A few days passed in comfortable silence. Nico continued his attempts to achieve inner peace. Frustrating as the fruitless endeavour had been, it helped him have something to do to take his mind away from all that happened recently.
Other than that, nothing too major occurred. Leon was getting more comfortable with his family by the day. He even cracked a joke or two, which had surprised Nico greatly.
Even better, though, was the fact that his little sister was warming up to the half-blood.
She had stopped trying to hide from him.
Rather, it seemed she had accepted him into the family based on her attempts to get him to play with her. A small grin appeared on his face at the thought.
Seeing Leon get so flustered had been the highlight of his short stay at home.
Nico sniggered to himself and suppressed a laugh. He sat cross-legged on the ground, the blades of grass beside him tickling his pants.
The dreary clouds above carried with it a light breeze that ruffled his chestnut hair.
The boy sighed and returned his attention to what he had been doing. A wooden spear lay across his lap.
Nico idly traced the outlines of the weapon, from the pointed tip to the smooth shaft, and ruminated over his achievements so far in the spear's path.
He had been fortunate enough to receive the personal Spear Art of a battle-hardened Descender. Furthermore, he had sparred with said Descender to help improve his form, and ability to fight under extreme pressure and gain more experience wielding the proclaimed king of all weapons.
So far, his progress with the Reaper of Shadows was acceptable… in Nico's eyes. He became proficient with the first two forms during the Camp, only leaving the third form for him to get under his belt before the Awakening Ceremony in a week's time.
The boy exhaled, rubbed his face unconsciously, and stood up, gripping the spear familiarly.
Then, he spurred into action.
The First Form. The Second Form. Nico alternated between the two, trying to raise his mastery of both where could execute them instinctively. During a couple of minute's break he would give himself, he turned his thoughts onto the third form, analysing all his facets and tentatively attempting to unleash it.
Unfortunately, Nico still felt he had not fully achieved the underlying essence of the move. From Phantom's display, he knew it focused on barbaric movements designed to overwhelm a foe with a multitude of attacks carried within a split-second of each other.
He struggled with that latter aspect very much.
Whenever he tried to swing his spear madly in a hazardous manner, he would mess up the timing of each attack and quickly tire himself out. The strain on his shoulders particularly, was tough.
That was why during the past few days he had continued his bodyweight training regimen. If he was going to achieve any success with the third form, the strength of his body would prove instrumental to that.
And so just like that… he continued to train diligently. Future stakes aside, it also provided him an outlet to vent. To channel his inner turmoil into something worthwhile, at the same time slowly processing what had occurred.
Yet, he was still a way away from truly accepting the fact that Henry had departed from this world. He could still remember the farmer's rambling, teasing… and most prominently, his worries.
A pang of grief filled Nico's chest.
He clenched his fists tightly.
Since his deceased friend could no longer take part in the Ceremony, he would pass for the both of them instead.
'Watch me, Henry. I'll make you proud.'
With that thought in mind, Nico stood up and resumed his hard work. The blades of grass rustled under his movements, his feet leaving several indents in the verdant expanse.
Panting, after a strenuous set of moves, Nico gripped his knees as his muscles screamed in fatigue. Beads of sweat slid down from his forehead onto the ground below.
"Go on, little hen. You can do better than that."
Just then, a familiar voice streamed into Nico's ears. He flinched, raising his head to gaze at the carefree form of his aunt.
Nico gritted his teeth, his right brow twitching in response.
Ever since Phantom had called him a little hen in front of Beverly, that had become her new favourite nickname for him.
The boy groaned internally before putting up an unbothered front at her words.
"Can I?" he replied nonchalantly.
Beverly, who wore a set of casual athletic wear as opposed to her usual clergy uniform, smirked. She tied her ginger hair in a bun, before grinning widely.
Nico shivered when he saw that smile akin to the one a Cheshire Cat would display. He knew that grin all too well…
It was a grin that promised a ton of pain.
… after all, Phantom had done the same.
'Blazing Fates!' he cursed internally, understanding what the ginger-haired woman before him was about to do.
***
As the skies became gloomier, darkening with every minute that passed, within the enclosure of a secluded garden, two figures clashed.
Or were supposed to, anyway.
Unfortunately for one combatant, he couldn't get near his opponent at all. No matter how hard he tried.
She was just too swift and agile. Not to mention extremely cunning as well. Her spear strikes were serpentine, ever-changing to best counter any move thrown at her.
Her figure radiated a chilling, vicious, honed aura. Such that her opponent felt as if the very air around her was enough to cut him down from where he stood.
Nevertheless, the brown-haired combatant lunged at her, face full of grim resolve.
Even though his aunt was leagues above him, even though she was vastly more skilled and possessed boundless more experience, even though she had endured the crucible of vicious warfare on the front lines…
…Nico still let his spear shoot toward her.
Because this was just too good an opportunity to pass up.
An opportunity where he could further increase his insight into the spear and improve his chances during combat within the Awakening Ceremony.
Based on the spine-chilling aura that surrounded Beverly, Nico surmised she was very much a level above being a master of the spear. If his aunt and Phantom were to be pit against each other in a contest of skill, chances were high she would win… that was what his eyes were currently telling him.
Despite that, Nico still struck. His spear sailed through the air, full of menacing promise. Beverly flicked her wrist, lazily changing the weapon's direction.
Nico, not to be discouraged, changed his grip on the spear and sent a swift upward thrust. Any other person would have panicked at the unexpected move.
Unfortunately for the brown-haired boy, however, his aunt wasn't just any run-of-the-mill person.
She was a woman who had bathed in the blood of countless enemies, seen countless horrors that could break a mundane individual's mind, and ultimately endured.
Such a measly trick couldn't trick a warrior as mighty as her. Indeed, Beverly had seen it coming from a mile away.
Her eyes rapidly discerned what move her nephew would make.
To her, it was as if he was telegraphing his moves to her in slow motion.
The ginger-haired priestess took a small step back, allowing the wooden spear to sail within inches of her face. In response, she swiped her weapon at the fatigued Nico, who just barely blocked the attack.
He slid back, panting for breath. His body screamed in pain, yet his eyes dilated in the all-too-familiar rush a crazed battle maniac experienced when faced with something exciting…
…something that involved hitting and being hit.
Beverly smirked.
"Too slow, little hen!"
And so, just like that… the duo continued to spar, with Nico slowly but surely refining his technique and combat sense.
And for good reason.
The Awakening Ceremony was fast approaching.