Chương 82: Chapter 79: True Swordsman

After a couple of hours of rest, the weakness in my muscles faded away. I planned to continue my weaving practice, implementing the eight additional threads to get accustomed to them. But Mum insisted I take a rest for the remainder of the day. I could only comply. The sky was already dark, the sun having set hours ago. By the time I was done writing this week's journal, it would be dinner time. But it appeared we weren't done welcoming guests for the day.

Mum was already serving plates, but it seemed Priam could not wait for his levitation boots and had brought his father along to make a formal commission. Another figure tagged behind them, whom I hadn't seen for a year. Freshly withdrawn from conscription, Aleya looked like a little lady now, not that she wore anything ladylike. A light blue vest and thick legionary-supplied trousers embraced her body, exuding the cold roughness of her features.

She was still pretty, even by the standards of how Awakened beings were, but she was nearly unrecognisable compared to the adolescent girl I'd once known. Aleya was half a head taller, her shoulders slightly broader, and her limbs sturdier. Needless to say, she had reached Noble Class, and had improved further during her time in the legions. Finding me gawking at her, she winked, a small smile tucked on her lips.

"Forgive my intrusion at such an unreasonable hour," said the magistratus, his thinning hairline combed neatly to appear fuller than it usually was.

"My son"—he waved Priam forward—"can't stop talking about those levitation boots of your son's since returning home. In the end, I could only give in to his whims, and here we are." He eyed Aleya.

"And my daughter, she will be trialling for the Oracle Academy next month. If I can get her a good gear or two to help her along the way, her chances wouldn't be as hopeless." I narrowed my eyes at Aleya. A terse inspection revealed her inner weave had over a hundred unique essence threads. But that was just the bare minimum for the admission trial at Oracle Academy. Every year, over 10, 000 Noble Class Awakened took part in the trial, and barely a tenth passed.

Aleya had no unique path, nor did she have the potential equal to a Shaper. If she could get in, it would wholly depend on her own skills.

"You underestimate your daughter a bit, Magistratus," Mum said, surprising not only me, but the girl in question and even her father. She led them to the drawing room to discuss the matter further. Curious, I decided to join as well.

"So, what kind of equipment are you thinking of getting?" Mum asked, gazing at the girl. Aleya craned her neck towards her father, Lord Magistratus Claudius Octavius, for the answer.

"I was wondering," began the magistratus, "what a full set of gear like those legionary officers, the ones centurions use, would cost." Mum narrowed her eyes.

"That depends," she replied.

"Centurions get customised pieces according to their needs. I have a few variants in the basement that need repair. The cheapest among them costs about a hundred crowns." A hundred crowns? I swallowed. That's 800 gold Leafs. That would be a steep price, even for many well-off Equites families. The town lord merely raised his eyebrows at the staggering sum, perhaps already aware of the cost beforehand.

"And the gear will be as good as theirs?" he asked.

"Forgive me if it came out rude, but as far as I am aware, common folk like us cannot get gear as good as the ones supplied to the legions."

"You are not wrong," Mum said, waving her palm.

"But it mostly depends on connections and a bucketload of gold Leafs." Before Lord Claudius could say anything, Priam piped up, "What about the boots? How much do those cost?" Mum glanced at me.

"There are cheaper variants," she said, "but the ones Arilyn uses cost about a couple of hundred gold Leafs." I was slack-jawed at the sum. That was essentially five times the material cost. It was like daylight robbery.

"You can get a pair that will last years for half that price," Mum continued, turning to the town lord, "but they won't be any good at long-distance travel. Additionally, you'll need additional gear to supplement the boots."

"Why?" Priam asked, confused.

"Arilyn can complement those boots with his shaping skills. For an Augmenter to mimic that, he would need to be sufficiently skilled in Aura. That reminds me, you know that you won't be able to use them fully until you've reached Noble Class, even with additional gears." Priam clenched his fist, even though he wasn't all that far from advancing. Mum explained more about the gear and suggested which sets would complement Aleya and Priam.

Claudius Octavius thought for a while before finally saying, "We will commission a full set of prestigious-class gear."

"But Father, what about me?" Priam protested, unwillingness clear on his face.

"Quit squabbling around," chided the town lord with a glare, which shut him up. He returned to Mum and listed out his requirements.

"The set should be customised for speed, efficiency, and swordsmanship, along with that kinetic forcefield you implied would be best for defence."

"And an archery gear," Aleya cut in for the first time.

"Not enchanted pilum that shoots energy beams?" I laughed. Aleya shook her head.

"I never liked those."

"How does that sound?" Lord Claudius asked, exhaling deeply.

"Can you deliver within a month?" Mum nodded.

"We'll need to hear more from them before deciding on the exact design," she said, motioning to Aleya and Priam.

"Send them a bit early tomorrow and we'll finalise the details. I can give you the approximate figure then..." Mum ran her fingers over the red locks of hair, as if forgetting something.

"Ahh, and don't worry about the cost. You can pay in instalments if you like." The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Claudius looked immensely relieved. He thanked Mum repeatedly before departing with his children. Other than being too demanding of his heir, Claudius Octavius didn't seem a bad parent, which made me wonder how Priam turned out the way he did.

"Why does fabricating cost so much?" I asked Mum as soon as their figures faded into the darkness.

"The materials don't even amount to a fifth of the price."

"Don't look at me, Pumpkin," Mum said with a brittle smile.

"I didn't set the prices. The hike is mostly due to supply and demand. There are just too many folks who want the gear, and not enough artisans to make them."

"But still, 200 gold Leafs for boots that cost under fifty to make. It sounds like robbery."

"Fifty Leafs, you say?" Mum cracked a laugh.

"Did you count your labour, or how much it cost me to reinforce those materials?" I blinked, not having considered that. Mum could essentially refine and reinforce materials within minutes, which caused me to discount her effort. Whereas my work could hardly amount to such an astronomical price. Mum shook her head, reading my thoughts.

"Living in this backwater town has sheltered you too much. Do you know what it costs to be even a novice artisan? Without a good mentor, you'll have to spend hundreds of gold Leafs just buying materials to experiment with—let alone the blueprints, which cost a ton. Even then, how many times do you think an artisan fails before they get the desired outcome?"

"I fail all the time," I muttered. Mum snorted.

"You have a gift that essentially helps you pull out perfect runes on command. You can't know the pain of common artisans. And did I say anything about the royalties the artisan has to pay for patented designs? Along with the tax, and the cut that goes to the establishment they work through, at the end of the day, they take home a meagre 20 to 30%."

"Wait," I asked, baffled, "you get royalties for designs?"

"Only if it's ingenious," Mum said.

"Or impossible to replicate. The patent for the centurion gear sets should have ended ten years ago, but Anvil, the House that supplies gear to the legionaries, struck a deal with the Emperor to renew it for another thirty years—so long as they only sell the set to the legions." My mouth hung open. While this sounded great for those in power, the practice seemed unreasonably unfair to aspiring artisans, and even to the common folk who had to pay extra to get the same gear.

"So, we have to pay royalties to make the set?"

"Only if we use their designs," Mum sneered.

"They were ingenious once, but it's been years since they came with anything genuinely good. For a Master Artisan, it's fairly easy to circumvent their patented design." She licked her lips, pausing.

"I rarely implement others' designs, but when I do, I usually pay the fee where it's due. But for Anvil?" She shook her head. I sighed in relief. At least she didn't have to pay a middleman for nothing, though there was still taxation. Unless the magistratus forewent certification—which was essentially tax evasion—they'd have to pay an extra sixth of the price.

"The Octavius family is well-off," Mum sighed, "yet they only get one set to share between siblings without going into debt. Most families would have to save for a decade to even think of affording such things. Hmm... if you like, you can give your friend a generous discount. It doesn't hurt our well-being either way."

"You mean?"

"Of course. I won't touch the production unless you fail to make them." As if that would happen. As promised, Aleya arrived early the next morning, Priam in tow. I was in the middle of sword practice and had to stop to hear their requisition. We all sat at the dining table, Mum preparing a meal on the other side, keeping her ears open to provide any necessary points I might forget.

"Get on with it already," I said impatiently, holding a notebook and my pen.

"I have to get back to my practice." Both siblings looked at me with suspicion, probably wondering why Mum was leaving such an important task to me.

"Don't worry," Mum assured, "you're in safe hands. Arilyn just needs a week to do what I can accomplish in an hour. Besides that, you won't notice any fault with his work." They still looked doubtful.

"Are you telling me he's making my gear?" Priam asked, wiggling a finger at me as if it were absurd.

"Your gear?" I smiled.

"I thought it was for Aleya." Maybe I'll have to reconsider the discount if it's for you alone. The magistratus evidently wanted a variant of the legionary's Stormguard set, optimised for high speed, which would complement Priam's build, even though Aleya would be using it for a time. Aleya seemed to recognise her father's intentions—or perhaps he talked to her after leaving—because her preferences echoed the same: speed-focused gear, high on efficiency with some add-ons for archery.

Thankfully, the siblings' builds didn't vary all that much, and her gift augmented her perception; otherwise, she would have no way of utilising the Stormguard set. Even though we were essentially discussing his own potential gear, Priam kept trying to steer the conversation, as if he knew more than the creators of the equipment. After half an hour of noting their preferences, materials, and a rough design, I left Mum to handle measurements and returned to my practice.

My recent battle with Priam had been an eye-opening experience. Needless to say, I was still chasing that electrifying feeling, that elusive thread line that broke through his defence. When I told Father about it, he looked at me with his mouth open, eyes widening.

"Truly? Are you sure it wasn't something to do with your gift?" I shook my head, almost sure.

"Describe it for me," he said. I complied, and Father was completely slack-jawed by the end.

"It still doesn't make sense," he said.

"You're too young and have little real fighting experience to even touch the threshold."

"What was it exactly?"

"It's called unity with the sword," he said.

"In this state, the sword becomes a part of your body—or so people like to believe. Whereas in my case, I feel the opposite, my whole body becomes part of my sword. Well, it's all as philosophical as it sounds. The truth of the matter is that once you reach this threshold, you can easily recognise the flaws in your opponent's moves and come up with counters."

"Really?" My chest rose, eyes widening sharply, thinking about the very moment I drew my sword against Priam.

"Don't get excited yet," Father said, despite his own elation was no less than mine.

"Seeing it once doesn't mean you can do it again. As I said, you're too inexperienced to reach the state of a True Swordsman."

"True Swordsman," I gulped. It was a realm below Master Swordsman, yet the title alone had gravitas to it.

"How long does it take for one to become a True Swordsman?"

"It depends," he said.

"Even for a prodigy, it can still take years."

"Have you mastered it?" He looked at me and nodded absentmindedly, still thoughtful.

"So you see that sword thread every time you spar against us?" That would explain why he always had the perfect counter to our strikes.

"I do," he smiled, "though in your cases, what I see isn't a single thread line, but dozens."

"What do you mean?" Was my swordsmanship so flawed that there were countless counters to it?

"There's no point telling you now," Father said, shaking his head.

"Discovering it yourself is far more rewarding." That ended the conversation, though the glint in his eyes didn't slacken throughout our spars. Hearing about my experience had excited him a little too much. Priam charged out of the house a few minutes later, his superspeed slowing down as he identified us on the field. Swiftly, Father pulled him aside for a quick talk. He even handed him a duelling cane, and sent him in to spar with me. True to his nature, Priam didn't wait for Eran to finish.

Pushing him aside, he attacked me with his tremendous speed. Instantly, I had to utilise my levitation boots to parry his strike. I tried to relive that fleeting moment, to rediscover that special state. But whether it was because Priam wasn't pushing me hard enough, or I wasn't concentrated enough, I never saw the elusive light—not even after half an hour of sparring, when my breath came ragged, my heart pounding, starved of air.

"Are you guys still playing around?" Aleya called from behind.

"Don't you have a written test today?" ===============