Chapter 32: Shadow Veil

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Shadow Veil

"Excellence is not an act, but a habit. We are what we repeatedly do." — Aristotle

The heavy iron arch creaked as Riven stepped into the Guild’s private training yard.

The courtyard was surrounded by tall stone walls, shielding it from the cold wind blowing through the settlement. Several sparring rings occupied the center of the yard, their packed-dirt surfaces marked by countless footprints. Wooden training dummies stood in rows along the walls, their surfaces scarred by years of practice. A collection of reinforced targets and practice weapons filled the remaining space.

Near the entrance, a burly, one-eyed attendant sat beside a small iron brazier. He was warming his hands over the flames when Riven approached.

The man glanced up, his gaze settling on the brass token in the small boy’s hand.

"Private grounds?"

Riven held it out.

The attendant took the token, inspected it briefly, and tossed it into a wooden box beside his chair.

"Pick an open post. Don’t touch the heavy combat dummies reserved for the higher. And if you bleed on the floor, clean it up yourself."

Riven gave a short nod.

He wasn’t interested in sparring with anyone. He had paid for a place to practice, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

He walked past the sparring rings, keeping his distance from the older adventurers training there. Two men were exchanging heavy blows with wooden swords, their weapons clacking loudly whenever they met. Nearby, another adventurer practiced swinging a battle-axe at a reinforced dummy.

Riven ignored them and continued toward the far corner of the yard.

He found an empty wooden post partially hidden behind a stone buttress. It was far enough from the other adventurers that he could practice without drawing much attention.

He set his brass lantern and spatial storage bag near the base of the post.

Then he reached beneath his cloak and retrieved the book he had purchased earlier.

Notes on the Shaded Blade.

The charcoal-gray leather cover was plain, with no decorations beyond the title. It was a thin volume, considerably smaller than the Fire Grimoire he had sold, but Riven hoped it would prove just as useful.

He opened it and began reading.

The first few pages described the basic principles of Shadow magic. Unlike fire or lightning, Shadow magic wasn’t focused on producing a visible element. Instead, it involved manipulating darkness and using mana to influence the surrounding shadows.

Some techniques were defensive, allowing the user to obscure their movements or conceal their presence. Others were designed for combat, reinforcing weapons or disrupting an opponent’s ability to see.

The manual emphasized that beginners should start with the simplest techniques.

One section caught Riven’s attention.

The shadow is not merely an absence of light. It is an extension of the practitioner’s will.

He read the sentence twice.

The following paragraph explained that a Level 1 core could only support a limited amount of mana manipulation. Beginners were advised to start by directing a small amount of mana toward a weapon and attempting to maintain a thin coating along its surface.

The technique was called Shadow Veil.

It wasn’t a particularly powerful spell. At its most basic level, it reduced the reflection of light from a weapon and slightly altered the movement of mana around its surface. More experienced practitioners could use it to conceal their attacks or make their weapons harder to track while increasing its power.

For now, Riven only needed to learn how to form the coating.

He closed the book and placed it beside his lantern.

Then he drew Gorn’s short sword.

The weapon felt comfortable in his hand. It was far lighter than the oversized sword he had carried from the slave camp, and its balance made it easier to control.

He held it in front of him and examined the blade.

A few scratches marked the steel, but it was otherwise in good condition.

Riven took a moment to adjust his grip before assuming a low stance trying to copy the diagrams from the book.

His right shoulder immediately protested.

A sharp ache spread through the joint as he raised the sword. He lowered it slightly, trying to find a position that wouldn’t put too much strain on the injury.

Riven sighed and relaxed his stance.

He wasn’t going to practice swordsmanship today. At least, not seriously. His shoulder couldn’t handle it.

Instead, he would focus on the magic.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the small core inside his chest.

It was difficult to describe what he felt. The core wasn’t a physical organ he could touch, but he could sense its presence. A faint, steady warmth rested deep within him, like an ember buried beneath ash.

He focused on it.

Slowly, he drew out a small amount of mana.

At first, nothing happened.

Then he felt a faint pressure spread through his chest and travel toward his right arm. It was an unfamiliar sensation, almost like the feeling of a limb falling asleep.

He followed the instructions in the manual and tried to guide the mana toward his hand.

The flow faltered.

Riven opened his eyes.

Nothing had changed.

He looked down at his fingers, then at the sword.

Again.

He closed his eyes and tried once more.

This time, he concentrated on the mana itself rather than imagining the sword being covered in darkness. He tried to keep the flow steady as it moved through his arm.

A faint sensation gathered in his palm.

Then a thin strand of dark energy crept across his fingers and reached the blade.

For a brief moment, the steel seemed to grow darker.

Riven opened his eyes.

A wispy film of shadow clung to the sword’s surface. It was barely visible, even in the daylight, but he could feel the mana moving along the blade.

Then it flickered.

The dark coating shattered and vanished.

Riven stared at the sword.

He wasn’t disappointed. He had expected the first attempt to be difficult. The manual had made it clear that beginners struggled to control their mana.

Still, seeing the technique work, even briefly, was encouraging.

’So this is magic.’

He took a slow breath and tried again.

This time, the mana reached his palm more quickly. However, as soon as he tried to spread it across the blade, the flow became uneven.

The shadow gathered in one place, then scattered.

He tried to correct it, but the effort only made the mana fluctuate more.

The coating disappeared.

Riven lowered the sword and studied the manual again.

The instructions were simple enough, but they left out something important. They explained what he needed to do without fully explaining how to do it.

He reread the section about maintaining a steady flow of mana.

Don’t force it. Guide it.

That seemed to be the key.

Riven closed the book and tried again.

He focused on his core, drew out a small amount of mana, and guided it toward his hand. Instead of pushing it toward the sword all at once, he tried to let it flow gradually.

The dark energy gathered around his fingers.

He carefully moved it toward the blade.

This time, the shadow spread more evenly.

For a moment, the entire length of the short sword was covered in a faint, dark sheen.

Then his shoulder began to ache.

Riven’s concentration wavered, and the mana coating collapsed.

He lowered the sword with a frustrated breath.

His injury was going to make this difficult.

Even though the technique didn’t require much physical strength, holding the sword in position put pressure on his shoulder. He still lacked any muscle to wield his sword.

He would have to find a way to work around it.

Riven rested the sword against the wooden post and sat down.

He took a few minutes to recover, then opened the manual again.

The next section described how beginners could practice controlling mana without attempting a full spell. It suggested forming a small amount of mana in the palm and maintaining it for as long as possible.

That sounded manageable.

Riven placed the sword beside him and held out his uninjured hand.

He closed his eyes and focused on his core.

A small amount of mana gathered in his palm. At first, it was little more than a faint sensation, but as he concentrated, a thin wisp of darkness appeared above his skin.

It trembled.

Riven tried to keep it steady.

The wisp stretched and twisted, changing shape whenever his concentration slipped. He could feel the mana draining from his core, though the amount was small and steady.

After several seconds, the darkness vanished.

He opened his eyes.

That was better.

He repeated the exercise.

Again and again.

Sometimes the mana disappeared almost immediately. Other times, he managed to hold it for several seconds before losing control. Once, he even managed to make the wisp move slightly above his palm.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

By the time he attempted the technique again with his sword, his breathing had become heavier and a dull ache had settled behind his eyes, he felt a migraine setting in.

He ignored it and focused on the blade.

A thin layer of darkness formed along the steel.

This time, it didn’t disappear immediately.

Riven held his concentration.

One second.

Two.

Three.

The coating began to flicker.

He tried to stabilize it, but the mana slipped out of his control. The darkness scattered into faint wisps before vanishing completely.

Riven lowered the sword.

He had managed to hold it for longer than before.

That was enough for now.

He glanced toward the courtyard. The afternoon shadows had begun to stretch across the ground, and several adventurers had already left. The two men who had been sparring earlier were gone, replaced by a pair of younger fighters practicing with wooden shields.

The attendant remained beside his brazier, occasionally glancing toward the training rings.

Riven looked back at his sword.

He had expected learning magic to be difficult, but he hadn’t realized just how much concentration it required. Even the simplest technique demanded more control than he currently possessed.

Still this new magic was incredible to him.

He had managed to draw out his mana, guide it through his arm, and form a thin coating of Shadow magic along his weapon.

It was a small achievement, but it was his first.

Riven carefully returned the sword to its sheath and packed away the manual.

His shoulder was beginning to throb again, and he could feel the exhaustion settling into his body. Continuing to practice would accomplish little if he injured himself further.

He would have to come back tomorrow.

For now, he had learned enough.

Riven picked up his lantern and storage bag, then walked toward the exit.

He still had a long way to go before he could call himself a capable adventurer. But for the first time, he had a clear idea of how to begin.

And that was something.