Chereads / The Sinful Young Master / Chapter 6 - The path of the sword

Chapter 6 - The path of the sword

Two weeks later, Jolthar was now riding towards the sunset, until finally, he arrived at a lone barren mountain situated west of the Stormholme Keep.

The mountain rising from the flat, desolate plains looked no different from an uninhabited island in the middle of the ocean, except that the rust-colored rocks emanated an unearthly, sinister aura.

"Young Master, do you really plan on living here?" Colinus felt terrible at the thought of leaving Jolthar alone in this desolate place away from the Keep.

Colinus had been the man taking care of the Keep for years, and he had received Jolthar when he first came to the Keep. Colinus was an old man and a gentle soul. He felt really bad seeing the state of Jolthar when he first arrived. And he was the one who helped him with proper meals for Jolthar all this time. The site of Jolthar muscular form now, he was feeling content.

He didn't understand how the clan could not care for such a dedicated boy.

He didn't understand why he suddenly set out to train here in these mountains, and Jolthar had requested that he bring him meat, to here.

On the contrary, Jolthar liked this place a lot. He replied, "Yes, I do. This is the perfect place for me to concentrate on practicing my sword."

Jolthar forged a sword, made from tungsten, a very dense and heavy sword, but Jolthar preferred it. Though it looked lean, its sharpness can cut through any metal, and he also imbeded the mysterious chi. He took the idea of katana and made its one side sharp and kept the other side flat. The blade was a meter long with a three-inch width and a half-inch thick.

The ones who helped said that it would be very heavy and brittle. He wasn't bothered with the weight of the sword. He wanted to make a flawless sword; under the guidance of the smiths, he added an alloy to make up for the limitations, and the chi also helped a lot.

Though the process of making would have been hard if not for the magical runes used for heating. The metal required a lot of heating to mold and shape it.

If Jolthar's friend from back then was present, he would have jumped in joy seeing the sword.

'If there are any problems with living here, it would have to be the difficulties in securing living necessities. I'll have to depend on Colinus's seasonal visits for that.'

"Uncle Colinus, I know this will be hard on you, but would you mind continuing sending me supplies regularly?"

"Oh dear! Please don't say such things, Young Master. Taking care of you is my duty. You shouldn't worry about me and focus on sword training."

Jolthar smiled and said, "Thank you, Uncle."

However, instead of making Colinus feel reassured, Jolthar's smile only ended up making him feel even more guilty.

Jolthar looked up at the giant mountain before him.

"I won't go back until I cut this mountain," Jolthar muttered to himself.

After Colinus had left, Jolthar carried his luggage into a cave on the side of the mountain. The naturally formed cave was wide and deep, perfect for his living and training needs.

When he was done moving his luggage, Jolthar did not rest. Instead, he piled up a stack of large rocks into a certain shape, then headed to the bottom of the mountain and filled up a sack with soil.

He drew some water from a crack in the rocks near the cave and mixed it with the soil to form clay. He then used the clay to fill the cracks in between the large rocks that he had piled up.

Just like that, a week later, Jolthar finished making himself a gigantic furnace three times the size and thickness of the one in his old smithy. The reason for this large furnace was that there was no firewood available near Mountain. He'd be able to find coal in the mountains. The flames created from burning coal were far hotter than those created from firewood, so he needed a furnace that could handle much higher temperatures.

Two days later, after searching around the mountain, he found a location where he could mine a black rock that matched the description of "coal". Another one of his perks of the reading.

"Phew!"

Jolthar observed the white-orange hot flames in his new furnace. The heat spreading out from it was so intense that it was hard to breathe even far away.

He tossed several chunks of iron ore into the furnace. He made the furnace, to pass his time by smithing. It also helped him keep his mind off things, to stabilize his mind.

"Huu…"

Jolthar took a deep breath and looked up at the blood-red rock wall in front of him. It was the largest cliff face, being 400 feet tall and 600 feet wide.

It's like a giant among giants is looking down at me; like nature's majesty and supremacy are aiming to crush my spirit.

This wall is the backbone of the Mountain, and the red colouration is its blood.

"From now on, you will be my opponent."

In his hand, Jolthar held a new long sword that he had spent his months forging. The sharpness of its blade could be discerned from the way the steel glinted in the bright sunlight.

He had other ideas of making a long sword. For that purpose, he had built the furnace.

From his ancestor, he learned that he had to develop a sword aura. The aura was very unique and was a big step into becoming a swordsman.

Jolthar spent most of his days concentrating on his aura. The biggest hurdle for Jolthar was very hard to obtain. To develop a deep bond with the sword.

Train with the sword to synchronize the wielder's movements and intentions with the sword's abilities, enhancing its effectiveness.

And the next thing was the sword intent; it was something that made the swordsman differentiate from the regular swordsmen. The intent, is the will of the individual wielding the sword. The sword's intent often reflects the wielder's purpose or will.

The sword's abilities or powers might align with the wielder's emotions. A sword wielded with calm resolve might be more precise and controlled, while one wielded with rage might unleash more chaotic and powerful attacks.

The more attuned the wielder was to the sword's aura, the more powerful and effective the sword became.

He poured his purple energy into the blade, and the blade hummed in response. This was the sword acknowledging his purple energy.

While maintaining the chi in the blade, he closed his eyes and recalled the forms of the sword of Chaosbane.

The form involves the six forms of chaosbane, in an order of their power and range.

Jolthar went through the six basic forms of the chaosbane in his mind.

Eclipse slash

Crescent of the void

Phantom curve

Chaos resonance

Bloodwake cleave

Starlight Doom

They were the six forms of the Chaosbane. The whole bundle of the book contained a detailed description of the forms, and Jolthar took his time reading and memorizing them. And now it was time to put them to use and perfect them.

However, the really scary part of the six forms of the chaosbane could only be realized when the forms were combined and performed in conjunction. It's true strength was not the sum of the six individual forms, but the strength of the six forms multiplied together.

Theoretically, simply by combining only two forms, one would be able to create thirty new forms. Adding that number to the original six basic forms, that would be thirty-six forms in total. And that was not the limit.

The keyword there was "theoretically". Not even Jolthar knew if it would actually work, since his predecessor hadn't actually reached that level of mastery. He mentioned that in his journal.

Right now, Jolthar had only learned the first three of the six basic forms. Even then, it had taken him many, many repeated experiments and failures to iron out the mistakes and problems with the forms. Turning theoretical sword art into reality ended up being a lot harder than he thought it would be.

He didn't know how much more time and effort it would take him to fix the remaining three forms, but he felt that as long as he kept trying, he'd surely succeed one day.

The Path of the Sword.

The current me is still standing at the beginning of that path.

He turned to face the wall of the cave and swung his blade.

A sword cried, and the wind rose.