My three years of magical training had come to an end. Throughout those years, I diligently practiced magic and focused on mastering the technique of harmony with my mana core. The results were decent—I managed to purify my core, and my magic had clearly become stronger. Yet, I couldn't break through to the substage of the blue core. It felt like I had hit an invisible wall, and I didn't know what to do.
Standing at a crossroads, faced with a decision that could change my life, I already knew what I had to do. Many people claimed that becoming both a mage and a magic swordsman was impossible—that these two paths were too different and required completely opposing approaches. However, I was certain: if anyone could accomplish it, it would be me. So I resolved to ask my father to teach me magic swordsmanship.
My father was a wise and restrained man, one I believed possessed a deep understanding of magic. Yet when I first approached him with my request to learn the style of the magic swordsman, he immediately refused. He was wary because he knew I had just finished my foundational magical training and had not yet fully mastered it. Magic swordsmanship required far more than simply knowing spells—it was a path fraught with risks and difficulties.
—"Father, teach me the style of the magic swordsman,"—I requested as I approached him in the courtyard.
—"Ruwen,"—my father said, unable to hide his concern, —"you've only just completed your training in magic. You understand how much effort it takes to reach a high level of mastery. Magic swordsmanship… that's another world entirely, with its own laws and challenges. It's a completely different kind of magic, and it demands not only willpower but also incredible physical preparation. You're too young to take on two such difficult paths at once."
I looked at him and knew he was right, but I also understood that this was something I had to do. In this life, I was determined to become stronger than I had been before, and I would not let difficulties stop me.
—"I understand, Father," —I replied with a confidence I couldn't hide, —"but I'm ready for this. I want to learn to be a magic swordsman. I've already mastered the basic principles of magic—I can do it."
His gaze was filled with doubt, but he saw that my desire wasn't just youthful fantasy; it was genuine resolve.
—"I won't lie to you, Ruwen,"—he said after a short pause.
—"Magic swordsmanship is a path full of risks. You must understand that at every stage, you'll face challenges that could harm you. The magic you'll use isn't merely a way to enhance your strikes. It fuses with your body, and you become part of that weapon. You must learn to control your mana, but you must also realize that it will affect your body. You cannot simply pick this up and learn it. You'll be overstrained, you'll suffer from pain and exhaustion, and your willpower will face trials you cannot even imagine."
I clenched my teeth but said nothing. I knew my father worried for me, but this was my path, and I was ready to walk it, no matter the risks. After long deliberation, my father nodded.
—"Very well,"—he said with a sigh.—"I won't try to dissuade you. But remember this: I will train you as best I can. However, you alone will be responsible for your body and your magic. If you can't withstand it, I won't be able to help you."
This moment became a turning point. My training began.
My father was not a master of swordsmanship, as I had assumed, but his knowledge and experience in magic allowed him to teach me. He wasn't the most skillful swordsman, yet his skills were good, and his understanding of how to manipulate magic to strengthen the body was considerable. He was the one who could show me the basics, which I would develop further.
The first training began with my father explaining the basic principles. He told me about the four stages of development for a magic swordsman. These stages were key to understanding how to work with magic and how to control it so that a magic swordsman could not only strike but also defend, increase their speed, strength, and endurance.
— «At first, you will work with magic on only one part of your body,» — my father explained while I stood with a sword in my hands. — «This will help you strengthen your physical power, but at the initial stage, you will feel limitations. You won't be able to maintain the enhancement for long, and your body will quickly tire.»
— «This is the first stage, «Blade's Beginning,» — he continued. — «You will enhance one part of your body, for example, your arms. This will help you increase the power of your strikes. But remember, you cannot use mana without limits. If you are not careful, you may overload your body, leading to cramps or paralysis.»
I nodded, listening to him. My father was right — I knew I would face enormous challenges, and magic wouldn't be as I had imagined. At the early stages, I would need to learn how to control my mana and distribute it correctly.
— «Now, I will show you,» — he said, taking a stance.
With my skills in magic, it was easy to track mana and its movement within the body. He gathered it into his hands and delivered a strike into the air. The force of his blow was astonishing; with such power, it wouldn't be difficult to kill two or three opponents at once.
The next thing he did was gather mana again, but this time into his legs. He delivered a single kick. The movement was fast and much stronger compared to an ordinary strike.
— «At the early stages, willpower will help you suppress pain and keep fighting even with injuries,» — said my father. — «But remember: your willpower is both your strength and your weakness. If you overdo it, you'll lose control over your body and mana.»
I looked at him in surprise.
— «Are you talking about healing through willpower?»
— «Exactly. At the second stage, you'll not only suppress pain but also direct mana to heal your body. It's not instant healing, but it will accelerate the recovery of cuts and even fractures. Without strong willpower, a magic swordsman cannot survive a prolonged battle.»
— «Over time, you'll be able to use your mana to heal wounds and reduce fatigue.»
The next stage, as my father explained, was «Iron Fortress.» At this level, a magic swordsman could activate enhancements on multiple parts of the body simultaneously. This gave them an advantage in speed and strength but required even greater concentration and control.
—« The second stage makes things more difficult,» — my father explained, demonstrating his movements with the sword.
— «You will be able to enhance not only your arms but also your legs. This allows you to increase both the power of your strikes and your speed. But you must remember that if you overload your joints or muscles, it can lead to serious injuries. And even with willpower, it won't always be possible to heal them.»
After that, he assumed a stance. Once again, he demonstrated several strikes, but this time he used both his legs and arms. He delivered a series of alternating blows with his hands, and the final strike was a spinning kick. As I observed, I realized that after each enhancement, there was a brief cooldown period. However, the higher your level as a magic swordsman, the shorter this interval becomes.
I watched his every movement carefully, trying to understand how he combined magic with combat techniques. He was practically flawless in this, and his control over magic impressed me.
The third stage, "Titanic Will," was the most difficult. At this level, a swordsman could create harmony between various enhancements, combining them to achieve high speed, defense, and strength.
— «At this stage, you will be able to use magic not only for offense but also for defense,» — my father said. — «You will create combinations that allow you to strike the enemy while defending against their attacks. But at this level, you will face serious risks because you will be working with vast amounts of mana.»
At the third stage, "Titanic Will," mana control became even more challenging. My father explained that a magic swordsman could use willpower to create defensive barriers and combine attacks with defense. Here, willpower acted as a shield that prevented the body from succumbing to fatigue.
— «You must learn to listen to both your body and your mana at the same time, Ruwen. Willpower is the bridge between them. Without it, magic will simply destroy you from the inside.»
I tried to imagine how this would work in practice, but it seemed far too complicated. I knew I would still have to overcome a long and difficult path to reach this stage.
The fourth stage, "Divine Blade," was the pinnacle and required complete fusion of mana and the body. This was the ultimate level that every swordsman aspired to achieve. At this stage, a magic swordsman could fully integrate mana, enhancing all physical attributes simultaneously. With the power of will, they could even regenerate lost body parts and limbs.
— «This is the highest level,» — my father said with respect. —«But if you are not careful, you will destroy your body. You must be prepared for this.»
In this process, willpower played a decisive role. My father said that at each stage, I would need to work not only with magic but also with my own will to sustain my strength. The willpower of a magic swordsman not only activated their abilities but also helped them control magic. Without strong willpower, you would not be able to use magic effectively. Furthermore, if your will was weak, no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't even reach the second stage regardless of all other indicators.
...
The first stage of training began with exhausting physical exercises. My father, as always, stood at a distance with a tense gaze, watching my every movement. Before dawn, he had dragged me off the hard wooden bed and forced me to run across rough terrain.
Cold mist clung to the ground, wrapping around my ankles as I pushed through thorny thickets and slipped on damp, cracked earth. Every step sent pain shooting through my thighs and knees. The air was cold, slicing my throat like a blade. I tried to focus on my breathing, but my mind kept returning to the questions.
Why so much suffering? Why was mana so unruly?
—"Run!" — my father shouted from somewhere above. His silhouette, carved from stone, stood on the hill. Arms crossed over his chest, his voice cut deeper than any whip. —"Your weakness is the weakness of your blade. Your pain is its tempering."
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to speed up. With each step, my legs grew heavier, as if someone had chained stones to my ankles. My muscles burned with fire, and my heart pounded so hard I could hear its beat in my ears. But I didn't stop. My feet struck the hard ground in rhythm: thud-thud-thud.
After two grueling hours, I collapsed to my knees at the base of the cliff, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. Drops of sweat rolled down my face, mixing with dust and dirt.
—"Get up, Ruwen,"—my father's voice was cold as winter wind. —"Running is just the warm-up."
I raised my head and met his gaze. There wasn't an ounce of pity in his eyes. But there was something else—expectation.
The Blade's Beginning training started with a simple task that quickly turned into a living nightmare. I had to learn to channel mana into my right hand, gradually strengthening it to prepare my body for magical reinforcement.
—"Imagine mana as water flowing through a riverbed," —my father explained as I stood in place, gripping the hilt of a wooden training sword. —"Don't let it spill. Direct the flow to your hand and hold it there."
I closed my eyes and focused. Somewhere deep in my chest, beneath my ribs, I felt a familiar warmth. It was mana—my power. I reached for it mentally, like a flame, trying to hold it steady. A wave of heat began to flow slowly down my arm, like liquid metal. My fingers tingled, and my palm started to go numb.
—"Stronger," —my father demanded.
I tried to push more mana, but suddenly it spiraled out of control. The warmth became painfully searing, and my muscles spasmed. I cried out, releasing the sword, which fell from my hands as I dropped to my knees.
—"Mana isn't a toy, Ruwen," —my father stepped closer, his shadow looming over me. —"It can strengthen you or tear you apart from the inside. Stand up and start again."
I took a shaky breath and, gritting my teeth, got back on my feet. My breathing was erratic, but a stubborn resolve was already beginning to burn inside me. I had to learn.
The following days blurred into one endless trial. The exercise repeated again and again: directing mana into my hands, holding it, striking at a wooden dummy, then holding it again. Every time the mana slipped out of control, it rebounded in a wave of pain, punishing my incompetence. My muscles burned, my joints ached, and my palms blistered.
—"Again!" —my father's voice was merciless.
—"I can't…" —I croaked, sinking to one knee.
—"Can't?" —he stepped forward, his boots crunching against the sand. "Or won't? Strength comes to those willing to pay the price. And the price is your blood, sweat, and will."
He drew his training sword and struck sharply. I barely managed to roll out of the way, the fall knocking the wind out of me, but adrenaline shot through me like lightning. I grabbed my sword and rose.
—"Control is life," —his voice sounded almost like a growl.
—"Without control, mana will kill you."
I took my stance. This time, I wouldn't let myself fail. Closing my eyes, I focused on my hands, feeling the mana obediently flow downward. A deep breath, a powerful exhale—and I moved forward.
My father's sword met mine with a heavy, ringing clash. His strength pushed me back, but I held firm. Mana filled my legs, rooting me like the ancient oaks. I lunged, controlling the flow of energy this time. My sword pierced the air and stopped a mere inch from his chest.
He raised an eyebrow and, to my surprise, smiled.
—"Well done, Ruwen. You're starting to understand."
I breathed heavily, sweat trickling down my spine, but a feeling of triumph stirred inside me—a small but vital victory.
The final day of the first month was the hardest. I had to endure a fight with my father while simultaneously reinforcing my arms and legs with mana. Every mistake resulted in energy backlash, and my body answered with pain.
The sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in crimson hues. The earth beneath me was marked with my footprints, and my clothes clung to me, soaked with sweat and blood. I made one final lunge forward, pouring every last bit of strength into the finishing strike.
My sword stopped an inch from his neck.
I fell to my knees, unable to stand any longer. A light breeze brought the long-awaited coolness. My father looked down at me, and for the first time, something like pride flickered in his gaze.
—"Welcome to the Blade's Beginning, son," he said quietly.
I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion overtake me. This was only the first step, but I knew: from this moment on, I was different.
My body, my mana, my will—they had finally begun to work together.
...
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End of Chapter 8.