“Indeed, many such techniques have characteristics of both Striker and Enforcer techniques, and could be developed in either direction depending on the needs of the Path. Enforcer attack techniques carry more power than full-body techniques, but as a result they can be clumsier. They tend to leave the user open for counterattack.”
The scene changed again, and Charity took Lindon through examples of movement techniques, weapon techniques, and defensive techniques.
How am I supposed to get a perfect score? Lindon asked Dross. Will there be a quiz?
[Oh, this is more than just a dream tablet. It is interactive. I'm sure...ah, you see? Here it is.]
Now Lindon stood in a blank white room, but the man in the loincloth stood in front of him.
“This man will randomly use Enforcer techniques ten times in a row. You must accurately identify the type of technique within one second.”
It was harder than Lindon had expected because he couldn't use his spiritual perception. The illusory man was a void to Lindon's senses, so he had to rely on visual clues alone.
Dross, of course, identified every one instantly. When the man adopted a defensive posture, so Lindon was sure it would be a defense technique, Dross correctly called it as a full-body technique.
“How did you know?” Lindon asked.
[His breathing, his arms, his calves, his posture, and the way his eyes moved.]
“...oh.”
If Lindon simply had Dross hand him the answers, he would have passed immediately. But he had to learn on his own.
After two hours, when he had finally recognized every detail about the man's techniques, he thought he'd finished. Then the woman in the hat and cloak appeared.
“This woman will randomly use Enforcer techniques ten times in a row. You must accurately identify the type of technique within one second.”
Her madra was completely different from the man's, and she showed different physical cues. It was harder to see her at all, shrouded as her body was.
[If you're going to finish this in three days without my help, I hope you have some Dream Well water left. You're going to have to go without sleep.]
Lindon did have some, but not much. He was down to one jar and two small bottles. He had used it sparingly, primarily to nourish Dross, and he didn't want to use it up here.
But he did use just enough to stay sharp.
Especially because, the next day, no less than five different Akura Underlords challenged him to duels.
Between fighting, recovery, and the analysis afterward, it took him two days and a night to complete the Enforcer training.
He handed the dark red jewel-device to his servant with a heavy heart, telling her to report to Charity. Even as an Underlord, he had beaten Mercy's accomplishment as a Copper by only a few hours. Though the test had nothing to do with advancement, he was older and more experienced than Mercy had been as well. He had hoped to finish within a few hours.
Charity did not send him a comment in return. Instead, she sent him a new gem-construct. This one was dark blue, instead of dark red, and contained information on Forger techniques.
Lindon got to work.
~~~
Information requested: Seshethkunaaz, King of Dragons and Monarch of the eastern Ashwind continent.
Beginning report…
Path: Wasteland. The Path of the Wasteland has aspects of earth and wind, and its techniques take the form of blowing golden sand. It is a versatile and adaptable Path, often used to call sandstorms, form complex shapes from sand at great distances, and scour flesh from bone.
Gold dragons have a natural affinity for fire and water aura, but Seshethkunaaz was born in the desert. An exile, he was left by the rest of his kind to die.
He was found by a group of human nomads, who saved the dying dragon and raised him as part of their family. He formed a contract with one of their children, providing him with enough pure madra to dilute his spirit. With time and great effort, he was able to change the nature of his madra and embark on the Path of the Wasteland.
He and his contractor were raised as brothers, and they advanced together at great speed. When he reached Underlord, he took on a human form like that of his contractor. His adoptive parents shortened his name to Sesh, introducing the two of them as twin brothers, and explaining Sesh’s remaining draconic traits as part of his Goldsign.
For years, they remained content. Until Sesh’s brother killed a child.
In a conflict between hot-tempered boys, Sesh’s young contractor lost his temper. He struck a Lowgold, forgetting his strength as an Underlord. His victim perished instantly.
In many lands, an Underlord would not be held responsible for any actions against a Gold. But the laws of this nation prohibited the murder of anyone regardless of advancement, and the young victim was the descendant of a powerful clan.
Sesh’s family fled in the night, but they were soon caught. Sesh’s brother was executed for murder, reckless use of power, and fleeing justice.
To this day, the King of Dragons walks the desert in the form of a human boy, hair dark and skin tanned by the sun, wrapped in a cloak against the harsh wind. He admires humans, but hates human civilization, that collection of unnatural rules under which the weak are favored above the strong.
If power and survival were the only laws, he believes all would benefit. Even humans.
Suggested topic: Seshethkunaaz and the Dread War. Continue?
Denied, report complete.
~~~
Naru Saeya, sister of the Blackflame Emperor, hovered above Yerin. Emerald wings from the Path of Grasping Sky barely flapped as wind aura held her motionless in the air. Even when they both stood flat on the ground, Saeya loomed over Yerin, but that wasn't enough. She just had to fly too.
She wore sacred artist robes in a color that matched her wings, and the cloth was as fresh as if it had been sewn this morning. Her hair had been tied back into a tail, all the better to fight, but a fan of peacock feathers still stuck up over her ear.
Yerin glared at those feathers, clutching an iron bar in her hands. This was a handicap she had given herself; blunt instruments gathered no sword aura. She had to beat her opponent with combat skills, not with her madra techniques.
It was more irritating than she'd expected.
“You expecting us to get much practice done when you're hanging from the ceiling?” Yerin asked.
The ceiling in this wing of the imperial palace was over a hundred feet tall, and Saeya wasn't even close to it. If she had been, maybe Yerin could have dashed up the wall or tried something else.
The Emperor's sister looked as irritated as Yerin was, holding her own iron bar. She had refused to take any weapon advantage over her training partner.
“It will only go the same as before,” Saeya said.
Yerin sharpened her senses, letting madra flow through her Steelborn Iron body. Strength flooded her Underlord body, and she felt invincible as she never had as a Truegold.
“One more try,” Yerin said through gritted teeth.
Saeya didn't say anything, but wind madra gathered up inside her, and then she vanished in a blur of green. Yerin swung her bar with all her strength, whipping up a whirlwind in the training room, but she hit nothing.
A sharp pain cracked against her back.
“If I slow down enough to let you hit me,” Saeya said from behind her, “you'd break me in half.”
The Naru woman walked around to Yerin's front, letting her practice weapon drop. “We're a bad match. I have virtually no defense against your Path, so if you had a real sword, I'd have to keep my distance. When you don't, either I'm too fast or you're too strong.”
Saeya hurled her iron bar so hard to one side that it struck against the wall like a bell and sent a chip of stone flying.
Yerin felt like doing the same thing. The iron bar felt odd in her hand, and she looked down to see that she had squeezed fingerprints into the metal.
“You want to go into the tournament betting that you'll only face good matches?” Yerin challenged. In truth, she felt the same way. Neither of them were getting good practice out of this.