The first sound Elias registered as he woke up the next day was the soft, deliberate scrape of feet across the dojo's wooden floor—a controlled rhythm that left no echo. Blinking awake, he pushed open one of the sliding doors just enough to catch a glimpse inside.
Victor was already in motion, wielding a bokken with a precision that defied words. Each stroke, each shift in stance, seemed effortless, like water flowing around stones. Elias couldn't help but watch as Victor's form drifted from one position to the next, movements so fluid they might have been conjured from mist.
Victor's gaze flicked toward the doorway, catching sight of Elias. "Good, you're awake," he said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Sleep well?"
Elias's eyes drifted to the cursed sword nearby, now resting silent. "Better than I thought," he admitted, half-expecting the blade's sinister whispers to have crept into his dreams.
"Good." Victor tossed him a bokken. "Let's see how you handle a real blade."
The wooden sword felt heavier than expected, its balance foreign in Elias's hand. He tried a few swings, testing its weight, but his movements were clumsy, his stance unsteady. Sweat beaded along his brow as he struggled to mimic what he'd seen. His last swing barely avoided an awkward collision with Victor, who sidestepped with a slight tilt of his weight.
"Your habits from the game are betraying you," Victor remarked calmly, barely hiding a faint smile. "You relied on your character's stats and Manna as crutches. Here, there's none of that."
Elias, catching his breath, scoffed. "Manna? I'm a swordsman, not a mage."
Victor's eyes sparkled with a trace of amusement. "Do you know why I, a middle-aged man, decided to play Celestian Requiem?"
Elias shrugged. "To roleplay?"
"That's part of it," Victor admitted, "but mostly, I was curious."
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"Have you heard of Ki?" Victor asked.
"Sure, it's in every Japanese manga I've read."
Victor nodded, his tone thoughtful. "It's a concept rooted in history, a life force that's central to certain martial arts. In the game, Manna is just a different name for it."
"So, you're saying Manna's real?" Elias asked, half skeptical.
Victor gave a measured nod. "I entered the game to experience a world rich in life energy and see if it might deepen my swordsmanship. I learned more than I expected." He walked toward the cursed sword.
"Wait—don't touch that!" Elias's warning was almost frantic.
Ignoring him, Victor reached for the blade. As his hand met the hilt, the air pulsed, the sword's rage and violence flaring up in a forceful, electric surge. Victor closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then released it in a long exhale. The sword's tantrum subsided, silenced as if recognizing his command.
"Ki exists here too," Victor said quietly, still holding the sword. "Not as intense as in the game, but it's real."
Elias could only stare, awe prickling through him. The same sword that gnawed at his thoughts and clawed at his heart lay calm in Victor's grip.
"Yes! That's it!" Elias said, excitement breaking through. "I need to control it. Teach me how."
Victor returned the bokken to him, smiling faintly. "Then listen well. And do exactly as I say."