Book 4: Chapter 1 - The Martial Path (RAW)

The Sea Hydra, known to the Mer as Tiamtu-Balmu and to surface dwellers as Sevensnake, is a fearsome war beast employed by the enigmatic people of the sea. These colossal creatures, each bearing seven serpent-like heads, serve as the living engines of war for the Mer in their relentless battles upon land and sea. Each head, capable of extending up to 40 feet, is lined with serrated teeth, designed for tearing flesh and armor alike, and can unleash a paralyzing, venomous spray that fells even the mightiest foes.

However, a Sea Hydra's most formidable attribute is its regenerative ability. A Sevensnake can recover rapidly from injuries that would prove fatal to other creatures, rendering it an almost indestructible force. 

In the hands of the Mer, the Tiamtu-Balmu becomes an embodiment of their implacable will, an unstoppable tide of destruction that none can withstand.

- Monsters of the Mortal Realms by K. D. Fidditch.

The middle-aged woman stood in the center of an open field, her posture as unyielding as a stone pillar. The light from this place’s sun cast her shadow long across the grass between us. I felt within me a mix of defiance and curiosity. What was there to learn from this woman? This woman from a long lost dream.

For this was a dream, of that I was sure.

After I introduced myself, she gave me her full name Fen Vaigorus, a name whispered through the pages of one of my books. A swordmaster, the first human to bear the fabled Mantis Mark. I had always imagined Fen as a man.

I had come here to grow in power, lured by the promises of the Necromancer of a quick and easy path. I was not yet convinced that this Fen, with her calm demeanor and piercing eyes, could teach me anything new in the confines of a dream.

Despite my doubts, we sparred with live blades, and I found myself utterly outmatched. Each move I made was countered with an effortless grace, as if she anticipated my every thought. 

Frustration welled up, and I eventually cast my blade to the ground in surrender. It was like playing against a computer that could read your every input, I thought ruefully.

Despite my best efforts, there was no reward, no notification of progress from my ‘System.’

“This is nothing more than a dream... a creation of the imagination. Anything I gain here is only made-up and would be of no use to me in the waking world,” I growled in distaste.

The graceful Fen looked at me wryly. “Perhaps that would be so if this were a normal dream. And perhaps, if this Dust dream were merely your own—a place where your mind wanders freely, unencumbered by the waking world’s constraints. A place of boundless, hedonistic imagination,” she paused, a grin tugging at her lips. 

“But this is no ordinary dream, Dust or otherwise. It is my dream, the unclouded and unvarnished truth as I have seen it,” she declared. “What you learn here, you will carry into the waking world. The truth of the Living Sword.”

“I care not for mindless martial philosophies. If you are going to teach, then do it. There are people waiting for me. And do not think to ask why I wish to become strong, or any other useless blather,” I countered flatly.

“I see that teaching you right thought before right action is putting the cart before the horse,” she observed with a sigh. “But first, you must acknowledge a truth: I am better at fighting than you. Much better.”

I nodded reluctantly, though it galled me to no end.

“I have a few questions,” I ventured, eager to move to a different topic to salve my injured pride. “What is this place exactly?”

“Did not my esteemed friend Vince explain? This is a shared dream, of which I am the master. It is a place in the formless world, given shape by my will. In short, the rules here are dictated by me to create the best environment for training,” she answered.

“And you are Fen Vaigorus… the Swordmaster Fen Vaigorus? You have been dead for hundreds of years?” I asked, half-disbelieving.

Her face grew wan. “Both yes and no. I am indeed Fen,” she paused, her voice growing hollow as the life seemed to drain from her. “No, I am an echo, a fragment of the person that was Fen Vaigorus. A part of a promise to Vincenzio. A memory. But unlike a memory that will slowly fade, I will be lost into oblivion once I have fulfilled my purpose.”

I forced myself to hold back a snort. It was all so mysterious and melodramatic.

"...and I was not just a Swordmaster. I was known as the Weaponmaster," Vaigorus proclaimed with no small amount of pride.

"I see. Back to my earlier question, how exactly will I be able to take back what I learn here into the waking world?"

"I do not know the exact mechanics of that, only that this is a limited simulacrum of the waking world. Aided by the refined Asixum pollen, your mind, and more importantly, your body will remember everything even upon waking," she explained.

"And of time... must I spend years here to learn what I must?"

She turned away, looking jittery for the barest fraction of a second. "Time here... it is fluid and inexact. Though I cannot give you an exact estimate, you will be given time enough to learn what must be learned. To do what must be done. Time passes slower here than in the waking world," she confessed. "It is a thing of the god-gift, Mana."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, not quite believing Fen. Too many markers of deception had played about her face.

She gave me a weak smile. "You've fought before," Fen observed, her voice steady and firm. "And you've taught yourself well enough to survive. But surviving and mastering the art of combat are two very different things."

Caught up in the rhythm of her question, I could do nothing but not, though my pride made me hesitate. "I've managed so far. I've fought men and monsters twice my size and lived to tell the tale," I boasted, feeling defensive. After all, I had dealt with a fair score of opponents so far.

"Perhaps, you have," Fen agreed, her eyes narrowing a fraction. "But you fight like a man who has only ever known chaos. You have only the vaguest forms of training. Add to that, your movements are wild, unpredictable, and while that can work to your advantage, it also leaves you vulnerable. Also, you have not made the things you have learned upon your path of carnage your own. So, my first task is to unteach these habits before I can build new ones."

She motioned for me to step closer. "First, we start with the basics. Unarmed combat. It is the foundation upon which all other weapon techniques are built. If you understand how to control your own body, you will, in turn, understand how to truly control a weapon. It is the first step to mastery."

I frowned, still reluctant to obey until the realization dawned that I would need this skill for the Festival. “I will do as you ask, that is very well and good, but I must learn more than just how to punch and kick. I must also learn more of how to fight with a weapon," I added.

Fen raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You think a sword, spear, mace, or any other weapon is merely an extension of your arm? It is much more than that. To master a weapon, you must first master yourself. Now, assume a fighting stance."

I complied, shifting my feet into what I believed was a stable and sure position. The middle-aged woman circled me like a sculptor assessing a block of marble, her gaze sharp and critical. "Your stance is too wide. Bring your feet closer together. Bend your knees slightly. Your center of gravity must be low but mobile."

She reached out and lightly tapped my right foot with her own, nudging it into place. "Good. Now, relax your shoulders. Tension will slow you down. If your body fights itself it will not be able to deliver its full potential."

Easier said than done, I thought to myself. Still, I did as instructed, feeling awkward and exposed. Fen moved back in front of me. "We'll start with a simple punch. A fast strike. But remember, power comes from your core, not just your arm. "

She demonstrated without further warning, her movement fluid and precise. Her fist snapped out, stopping just a hair’s breadth away from my face, the force of her movement sending a rush of air past my cheek. "Now you."

To my credit, I did not blink. However, like a master, I conceded, she had made it look effortless. Like anyone could do it.

I swallowed hard, steadying myself. Fen’s eyes bore into mine, expectant and unyielding. I mimicked her stance, tried to relax myself, and threw a punch. In comparison to the Weaponmaster, it felt clumsy, and uncoordinated. 

Fen corrected me, adjusting my posture, and guiding my arm. "Again," she said, and he repeated the motion.

Hours passed, the training relentless. Fen was patient but demanding, her corrections constant. Each movement, each stance, each breath was scrutinized and perfected.

Strangely, I did not grow tired. When I thought to check my Status to see the state of my Stamina, I was shocked to find it gone. Panicked, I tried to view the rest of my user interface but could not summon it. Without those markers, I suddenly felt helpless, lost, and adrift.

I took a deep breath. Calm, find your center or whatever it is, I commanded myself. If this was a dream, it would make sense that I could not access my Status.

But what about magic? I tried to cast an Identify spell. It felt muted as if I were calling magical energies from leagues away. The spell pathetically petered out before I could form the construct.

The woman regarded me with an annoyingly childish and triumphant grin. “It will not work here, because I do not wish it to work here,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I did not think you walked down that path as well. There is more to you than I thought. Perhaps Vincenzio has chosen well.”

“What do you mean by that?” I shot back, feeling a spark of irritation.

“In this place, I make the rules. You have perhaps noticed that despite your rigorous training, you have not grown tired, yes? That is because I have made it so. Likewise, I have forbidden the use of magic here, for it would be a distraction,” she answered pleasantly, her serene tone a sharp contrast to my growing annoyance.

“I see,” I responded, striving to keep my voice calm. A part of me knew that showing my irritation would be a defeat. She was treating me like a child, and I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me riled.

…And come to think of it, Vincenzio had mentioned that I would need to defeat the guardian of this dream. If I could not use my magic then I was robbed of one my biggest aces in my deck.

There was nothing for it; I would have to bite the bullet and throw myself into this training. By the end of the first session, my mind felt numb from the endless repetition.

Fen stood before me, her expression as inscrutable as a statue. "You're beginning to understand," she remarked. "But this is only the start. Unarmed combat teaches you balance, control, and awareness. These are the principles that will carry over to any weapon you wield."

I nodded, exhausted. "I can imagine that to be so. There is more to this," I said evenly, my voice betraying none of the mental fatigue that weighed on me.

"Much more," Fen agreed. "Tomorrow, we continue. Though your body will not tire, your mind will require rest to digest what you have learned. We will resume in one turn of the sands,” she said with a flourish, producing an hourglass from seemingly nowhere. “The path to mastery is long, but with dedication, you will walk it. Or perhaps run."

Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Fen had shown me a glimpse of true mastery, and in truth, I was eager to learn more.

It could not hurt to learn something new.