Chapter 33: Practice

Chapter 33: Chapter 33: Practice

"Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together."

— Vincent van Gogh

The morning air was bitterly cold as usual.

Frost covered the rooftops and wooden fences of the lower district, while thin trails of smoke rose from chimneys scattered throughout the settlement. Riven pulled his black cloak tighter around himself as he made his way toward the Adventurers’ Guild.

His right shoulder still ached. The injury had improved since the fight in the quarry, but it was far from healed. He could move his arm more easily now, though sudden movements still sent sharp pains through the joint.

When he reached the Guild, he headed straight for the iron arch leading to the private training grounds.

The one-eyed attendant was sitting beside his brazier, warming his hands. He glanced up as Riven approached.

"Back again, kid?"

Riven nodded.

The attendant gave him a tired grunt and waved him through.

"Try not to break anything."

Riven continued into the courtyard without responding.

The training grounds were mostly empty this early in the morning. A few adventurers were warming up near the central sparring rings, but most of the yard remained quiet.

He made his way toward the secluded corner he had used the previous day. The wooden post was still there, its surface covered in old cuts and dents.

It was a suitable place to practice.

Riven set his brass lantern and spatial storage bag beside the post before taking out his manual.

Notes on the Shaded Blade.

He opened it to the page describing Shadow Veil. The edges of the page were already beginning to curl from repeated use, and a few sections had been marked with small creases.

He had spent much of yesterday studying the technique.

The instructions were simple enough to understand, but putting them into practice was another matter entirely.

He needed to draw mana from his core, guide it through his body, and spread it evenly across the blade. Even a slight loss of concentration could cause the coating to collapse.

Yesterday, he had barely managed to maintain it for a few seconds.

Today, he intended to do better.

Riven closed the manual and placed it beside his lantern. Then he drew his short sword from its sheath.

The weapon felt familiar in his hand now.

He adjusted his grip and planted his boots firmly against the packed dirt. His right shoulder protested as he raised the blade, so he lowered it slightly until the pain became manageable.

Don’t force it. Guide it.

He closed his eyes and focused on the core within his chest.

It was a small, steady presence, like a cold ember buried deep inside him. He could feel the mana resting within it, waiting to be used.

Riven slowly drew out a thread of energy.

At first, the flow was uneven. He could feel it faltering as it moved through his body, but he kept his concentration steady and guided it toward his hand.

A faint sensation gathered in his palm.

Then the darkness appeared.

A thin wisp of Shadow mana spread across his fingers and reached the blade. Riven carefully guided it along the steel, trying to distribute it evenly rather than allowing it to gather in one place.

The blade darkened.

He opened his eyes.

A faint, almost transparent coating covered the weapon. It was difficult to see in the morning light, but he could feel the mana clinging to the steel.

He had managed it again.

Now he needed to maintain it.

Riven took a slow breath and focused on keeping the flow steady.

One.

The shadow remained.

Two.

A slight tremor passed through the coating.

Three.

He corrected the flow before it could break apart.

Four.

His breathing remained slow and controlled. He could feel the strain of maintaining the technique, but it was less overwhelming than it had been yesterday.

Five.

The shadow began to thin near the tip of the sword.

Riven tried to reinforce it, but the mana had already started to slip from his control. The coating flickered once before disappearing.

He lowered the blade and exhaled.

Five seconds.

It wasn’t a dramatic improvement, but it was better than yesterday.

He rested for a moment before trying again.

The next attempt lasted only three seconds. The one after that failed almost immediately.

Riven didn’t let it bother him.

He had already learned that progress wasn’t always consistent. Sometimes he could maintain the technique for several seconds, only to fail the next time. The important thing was understanding why it happened and correcting his mistakes.

He returned to the manual, rereading the section about maintaining a stable flow of mana.

Then he tried again.

Hours passed.

Draw the mana.

Guide it into the blade.

Maintain the coating.

Release it before his core became too strained.

Rest.

Repeat.

The routine became almost mechanical. He paid little attention to the other adventurers in the yard, focusing instead on the subtle changes in the mana flowing through his body.

His shoulder gradually began to ache again. The strain wasn’t as severe as it had been during the fight with Boulder, but the repeated movements were taking their toll.

He adjusted his stance whenever the pain became too distracting.

Even so, his concentration began to weaken as the morning wore on.

A dull pressure formed behind his eyes. He recognized the sensation from the previous day. It was a warning that he was pushing himself too hard.

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

He drank some water and waited for the headache to subside.

He could have stopped there.

But he had paid for the training grounds, and he still wanted to make progress.

After several minutes, he stood and picked up his sword again.

This time, he tried to use less mana.

The manual recommended conserving energy rather than forcing the technique to work through sheer power. Riven had been focusing so much on maintaining the coating that he hadn’t paid enough attention to how much mana he was using.

He drew out a smaller amount and guided it toward the blade.

The shadow formed.

It was thinner than before, but it seemed more stable.

Riven concentrated on maintaining the flow instead of strengthening it.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The coating remained steady.

He continued.

Six.

Seven.

The mana began to waver, but he managed to correct it.

Eight.

His headache returned, and his injured shoulder throbbed beneath his shirt.

He pushed through for another moment.

Then the coating vanished.

Riven lowered his sword.

Eight seconds.

He stared at the blade for a moment before sheathing it.

It was the longest he had managed to maintain the technique so far.

A small sense of satisfaction settled in his chest.

It wasn’t much, but he was beginning to understand how the technique worked. He still had plenty of room for improvement, yet he was no longer simply repeating the instructions and hoping for the best.

He was learning.

By midday, the training yard had become considerably busier. Adventurers moved between the sparring rings, while the sound of clashing weapons echoed across the courtyard.

Riven returned to his secluded corner and packed away his belongings.

His shoulder was aching badly enough that he didn’t want to risk another attempt. His headache had also grown more persistent, making it difficult to concentrate.

He had done enough for today.

He picked up his storage bag and lantern, then made his way toward a wooden bench near the back wall. It was away from the busiest part of the yard, giving him a little privacy.

He sat down and rested his back against the stone.

After a few moments, he closed his eyes.

There was something he wanted to check.

He focused inward, directing his thoughts toward the band that had appeared when he first registered with the Guild.

"Status."

A translucent blue window appeared before his vision.

[STATUS]

Name: Riven

Age: 5

Core: Level 1

Affinity: Shadow

[SKILLS & TECHNIQUES]

Shadow Veil: 5%

Basic Swordplay: 13%

Riven stared at the display.

Five percent.

He had spent hours practicing a single technique, enduring a growing headache and aggravating his injured shoulder, only to gain five percent proficiency.

It was a painfully small amount.

At this rate, mastering even one technique would take a considerable amount of time.

Still, he wasn’t disappointed.

The number represented something tangible. His efforts had produced measurable progress, however small it might be.

He had gone from struggling to form a thin layer of mana to maintaining it for several seconds.

That was an improvement.

Riven dismissed the status window.

He wasn’t going to become strong overnight. He knew that much already. His body was still weak, his core was only Level 1, and he had barely begun learning how to use his affinity.

But he had a starting point.

And for someone who had spent so long with nothing, that was enough.

He stood, adjusted his cloak, and headed toward the exit.

His shoulder still hurt, and he was exhausted, but he had accomplished what he had come to do.

Tomorrow, he would return.

He had a long way to go.

But at least he was moving forward.