Chương 171: Arc 3 - Chapter 43

"You cheating little sneak thief," Adam growled, stepping towards Fritz menacingly. His hand gripped the hilt of his currently sheathed sword.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Fritz lied, not flinching or retreating from the huge man.

"That last round, you were quicker and reacted better," Adam accused.

"And your sword spat lightning. I wasn't aware it could do that."

"It can't, there's no such Ability Imbued," Fritz said.

"You can investigate the blade yourself if you don't trust my words." He planted his sword in the soil and motioned for his tutor to take it. Adam narrowed his eyes, but he could see much of his tutor's anger was fading away. Amusement flitted with frustration over his head, circling like pixies.

"I don't need to 'investigate'. I've been struck by lightning enough times to know what it feels like. Even if it was of a trifling intensity," Adam said. He took his hand off his sword and stretched his fingers wide, obviously it still felt stiff from the jolt. Fritz shrugged, feigning some nonchalance.

"You cheated too. As soon as you couldn't keep up with me you unrestrained your Advanced Attributes. And you extended the reach of your rapier."

"How dare you accuse your honourable, upstanding, tutor of such unhanded conduct," Adam said, but he could barely contain the glee in his tone.

"What temerity! Especially after all I've taught you."

"Speaking of teaching. I achieved that miracle and scored that point. I even drew blood," Fritz said.

"Are you still set on denying me?" Adam sighed, then looked down at the cut on his chest and the small blot of red on his tunic.

"I don't know if I should reward you for violating the rules," he said.

"What kind of precedent would I be setting?"

"You know as well as I do that rules don't matter, not really. Only survival and success do," Fritz stated, pouring surety and some Dusksong into his voice. Adam frowned and shook his head.

"There are rules that should be followed. Laws you adhere to and lines you shouldn't cross. For your own sake as well as others." Fritz put on a thoughtful mask, but couldn't entirely agree. Still, it was worth hearing and contemplating, even if he felt that the way the laws in Rain City were upheld was more oppressive than protective.

"Is holding to your word one of those rules?" He asked.

"You said you'd teach me If I scored a point. And I did." Adam ran his hand through his unkempt beard, then sighed.

"Very well," Adam said.

"You're the best potential prospect I've seen in a decade anyway. And you somehow grasped the Technique in the middle of the duel. There's learning by doing, but what you did is an absurdity." He sighed.

"Let's just hope you learned it right." Relief struck Fritz like a wave, nearly knocking him off his feet. His eyes started stinging out of nowhere and a warmth spread through his chest. Worries wriggled into giddy disbelief. He'd honestly assumed that Adam would find some other reason not to teach him and that he'd never reach the required level of skill.

"I'm good enough then?" He asked quietly. So soft that the rain nearly drowned it out.

"You're good enough," Adam stated without scorn or sanction. Fritz smiled, and hot tears joined the rain spilling down his face.

"Now, let's see if George passes the test too," Adam announced. George seemed surprised to hear his name and looked at their tutor with puzzlement in his gaze.

"Get over here and show me what you can do with that sword," Adam ordered, then he turned to Fritz again.

"And you, get out of the way of the duel." They both obliged quickly, swapping places so that Fritz could join the rest of the team under the tree and George could face Adam in single combat.

"What did he say?" Cal asked.

"Is he gonna teach you that sword style?" Fritz nodded.

"Good job, Fritz," Rosie said slapping him on the shoulder, roughly.

"Can't believe you got him. He's real fast and tough."

"It took all his wiles, I suspect," Lauren said knowingly, her eyes glowing with the light of Mana Sight.

"Wiles? I'm sure you mean supreme skill," Fritz corrected blandly.

"Wiles," she repeated. Fritz was going to argue further, but the clang of blades rang out and his attention was drawn to the duel. It was a good distraction, he still felt raw, in body and spirit. George started the first round with his copperchange sword in its longest form and was soundly defeated. Adam simply slid right past the sweeping strikes and struck the man's armour with a clean thrust.

"Damn," Cal said.

"Get him, George!" Rosie yelled. Fritz frowned.

"Where was all this cheering when I was fighting?"

"Adam told us to be quiet remember," Lauren said.

"Yeah, what if we offended them noblemen?" Rosie said. Fritz nodded begrudgingly. Their excuses made sense. George lost another round in the meantime, then decided to change his armaments, taking up a practice shield and a blunted blade. He could have changed the size of his sword by activating it, but he chose the more sensible and considerably cheaper path. Adam nodded approvingly.

"Good plan, change your tactics if they prove ineffective." They clashed again. George still lost, both the round and the first bout, but held out longer than he had done with his larger blade. He tried only once again with the same armaments, before changing his equipment again, this time he wielded two equal-length swords. This strategy was less potent, even if George enjoyed it far more.

Although his strikes were fast and whistled through the air, cutting through the rain with great strength, it was apparent to all that his skill was lacking. And to Fritz's eyes, his attacks were clumsy and crude. The chops and slashes moved in straight lines and lacked any of the subtlety of the Inevitable Blade.

"Wish I had a Technique," Rosie said.

"You have the Arte Pugilist," Fritz replied.

"I want another one," Rosie stated.

"I discovered a new one," Fritz said.

"The Python's Fangs. It's a combination of the Arte and some dagger style I was learning."

"What's it do?" Rosie asked. Fritz explained what he remembered of the description.

"More grapplin'. That'll be good," Rosie said.

"And you would be teaching me? Even better." Fritz frowned, but nodded.

"I would be careful filling all your channels, Rosie," Lauren said.

"You still need to find one specialised for a defender to make you tougher." The conversation about Techniques reminded Fritz that he had one to inspect in his Sanctum. He hadn't forgotten, but had delayed in order to watch his friend's fight and hear Adam's decision. The desire to drop in and peek at the Technique squirmed in his mind, though he held it at bay. Soon enough the duel was over. Adam frowned and paced, then began bombarding George with questions.

They were answered solidly and plainly, and eventually, Adam sighed, nodded and agreed to train him along with Fritz.

"Our styles differ, but one of my techniques would be very valuable to you. If you can learn it," he provided.

"Thank you, Sir Needle. I'll do my very best," George said smiling.

"I know you will," Adam said, slapping a hand on the man's shoulder. Then he turned and called out.

"Lord Hightide!" The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Fritz stood and his head swam for a moment, but he made his way to his tutor quickly.

"Yes? What did you need, Sir Needle?" He asked.

"Gold. These extra lessons will be an added expense," Adam said. Gold, it was always gold.

"We have gold, plenty of it," Fritz admitted.

"Good. I need some additional equipment to get you two into shape," Adam said.

"You don't already have it?" Fritz asked.

"I had to sell most of my possessions over the years, some of the first to go were those training aids," Adam admitted.

"I never thought I'd truly teach all I knew about the sword."

"If it's not too rude to ask. How much mastery do you have over your sword techniques?" George asked.

"Two expert, one journeyman," Adam said proudly.

"One of the two is on the edge of master. Or was. I'm rusty. But being trapped in Rain City will do that to you." Some melancholy born of rage gripped him and he looked down and stopped speaking.

"Count Tallmast mentioned that his son was to be someone's training partner," Fritz said.

"Your training partner," Adam said.

"I'll be tutoring him some too and he will be joining the team for exercise and practice. It was part of the deal to help you." Fritz grimaced.

"I understand your frustration, but I was able to wrangle quite a lot of additional benefits too," Adam said.

"For one, we can use the Count's reserved training yard for as long as Mathew trains with you. For two, he'll be supplying monster meat. And for three, he'll be paying me handsomely."

"Will you be reducing your rates?" George asked.

"No, I need the gold," Adam said.

"I have some debts to pay and need to secure a decent place to live. I've been a vagrant for far too long." Fritz raised an eyebrow.

"Will you also be giving up the drink?"

"Hah! Gods no! We've seen one miracle today, don't count on another," Adam said jovially, though there was a hint of self-loathing in his laugh.

"You could always reside here," Fritz suggested.

"What and live with a bunch of Rookie Climbers with all the full vigour of youth and all the foolishness and frolicking that comes with it?" Adam scoffed.

"Absolutely not. I value my sleep and my sanity." Fritz considered his team to be actually quite level-headed and respectful. Honestly, they were more reserved than they should be, at least compared to those other young men and women that he spied in the streets. It must have been due to their dedication to Climbing, or perhaps it was simply their strange circumstances that had made them more serious.

"We can start your first lessons after you're all done with your morning training," Adam said.

"Yes, sir," George agreed. Fritz nodded, but before he joined in the exercises and weapon drills he sat by the tree and dropped into his Sanctum, unwilling and unable to wait any longer to view his new Technique. The wind and rain were wild within himself and the curtains of his pavilion fluttered in the powerful breeze. Even if he felt sure that he had achieved his goal, that he had a hold on his uncertainty, the chaotic state of his Sanctum proved otherwise. There was something else that caught his eye.

His willow tall, grey and healthy, swayed in the breeze. That wasn't the oddity, it was how the branches moved and the leaves rustled. They wove a complex pattern, a familiar one. He saw the Inevitable Blade's influence, its shifting sharp cage. There it was, in a dance of wooden bars and foiling foliage. If there had been birds in his Sanctum they'd find it impossible to leave that tree's reach. Fritz shook his head, he wasn't here to stare at his willow, no matter how entrancing it had become.

He brought up his Spire Sheet and immediately glanced down its length finding the list of his Techniques. And there it was: The Inevitable Blade (Novice). He focused on that channel soon its effects were laid bare to him.

The Inevitable Blade Fencing, caging, a razored gaol, the thrust most perfect, too sure to fail. Grants lesser benefits to Agility and Grace of parries and strikes with single-handed swords. Your strikes with single handed swords are more difficult to parry or evade. Awareness and Perception are more effective at evaluating foes' vulnerabilities and condition. F ocus is more effective when in battle. These benefits increase over time when in battle with a singular foe.

These benefits are increased when in battle with Human and Human-strain foes.

You have studied, practised and understood the Inevitable B lade, learning under both an expert and a journeyman tutor.

Fritz marvelled at the benefits. He had intuited some of them, of course, while he duelled his tutor, but to have them laid out plain and clear was a great boon. Especially the more subtle benefits like the increase in the effectiveness of his mental Attributes. If not for his use of the Eelkin belt, he might have noticed them more readily. As it was he had completely overlooked that aspect of the Technique. Most joyous of all, it wasn't a bastardised or incomplete variant of the style.

It was that very same Technique that had been drilled into him all those years ago by his father, who must have been the expert referenced in the description. To think his father was that skilled shocked him, though he never really thought about just how powerful he must have been. To stand shoulder to shoulder with Adam he must have been somewhere near his level. They had Climbed together after all. Thoughts of his father and the hard hours of training brought about a profound sense of pride paired with loss.

He had done it, finally learned what he had been taught so long ago and what felt like so far away. Though emotion threatened to fell him, he held tight to the achievement he'd grasped with his own two hands. Then, once he had centred himself, he left his Sanctum. Once he was back in the real world, he stood. Adam ordered him to go tend to his wounds. Fritz had forgotten the small holes, numbed as he was by the Ring of Suppress pain.

He heeded his tutor's words and made his way to the medical supplies, then applied healing grease and some bandages with the help of Cal. After he was ready, Fritz joined his team for the rest of the baton and shield practice. He soon found that although he wasn't wielding a single-handed sword as his Technique ordained, he could still feel some of the advantages the Inevitable Blade conveyed. It was easier to predict his sparring partners' blows and could anticipate their movements with more clarity.

Even before he had attained the Technique he could reliably read his opponent's tells if he focused on them, but now it came easier, more naturally, like some small part of his mind was always assessing his current foe. It was freeing, letting him lend more of his attention to tactics and overall strategy. Still, he wasn't wielding Quicksilver. And he ached to test his new capabilities. Fritz had to endure another hour of tough training almost entirely unrelated to swordplay.

He gave it as much energy as he could, mainly due to Adam's threat of no lessons if he didn't exert enough effort.

"How am I meant to teach you if you think you're too good for the baton, or too lazy to train it," Adam espoused.

"If you can't swing a stick properly how can I trust you with a sword." Fritz nearly rolled his eyes at the statement. It was likely one his tutor hammered upon plenty of his former students, but it didn't strike home as it would have if Fritz hadn't already proved his ability with the sword in the duel earlier. Tired and sore, his new aches and injuries were painfully joined by his old ones. He tried to Activate Suppress Pain, but found his ring was empty.

After cursing to himself, he thought it was probably for the best. He knew he was relying on it too much and that sort of dependency was not something he wanted to foster or let fester. Eventually, the tutoring ended, and the rest of the team save George left to bathe, rest and recuperate before running the various errands they had planned for the day. Adam had Fritz and George stand in the middle of the yard, where he looked them over sternly and seemed to think about what to task them with.

Before their tutor began to teach them, Fritz had a few questions, ones he desperately wanted answers to.

"Sir Needle," he entreated politely.

"Yes?"

"You're a Journeyman in the Inevitable Blade aren't you?" Fritz asked.

"Yes, it's the style I'm least familiar with," Adam admitted easily.

"My father was an Expert."

"Correct, he was. It's the signature style of swordsmanship in Portus-hai. His native city and where I met him," Adam said.

"What of it?"

"Was he a better swordsman than you?" Fritz asked. Adam hesitated and scratched his beard thoughtfully.

"No, but he was good. Very good. Duelling him was like fighting a pillar of steel one moment then a ghost the next. It was infuriating to cross blades with him, he would know all your attacks in advance and have the perfect parry followed by a flawless riposte. Still, he didn't have all the advantages Might and high Strength provide, seeing as he was a Guide." Fritz nodded, he'd expected as much.

"I'd win maybe two-thirds of our spars. Which, considering my Role as a Striker, could be considered shameful, but I suspect Tomas was on the edge of Master and could have reached it in due time. If only he had decided to leave Rain City instead of settle down with the Lady Hightide." Adam sighed, regret and pain clear on his face and in the darkly stained light surrounding him. Fritz was surprised at the honesty, but not at his tutor's sudden melancholic manner.

"Why have you been so adamant on not teaching me? All these hoops and walls to jump through and over?" Fritz asked, seizing on this moment of sincerity.

"It was something I shared with your father. He himself was forbidden to teach it. I pestered him, of course. Bribed and cajoled. And, eventually, due to our closeness, he caved. It felt like it was ours. A secret. Tomas bade me not to teach any others. And I heeded that promise, until this very day."

"As his son, I don't think this promise would apply to me," Fritz said.

"He was teaching me the style as well."

"I know that," Adam said gloomily.

"But a promise is a promise. And what if breaking that promise meant that he'd never return." Fritz was at a loss for words. George rubbed at his eye and looked away.

"Hah! Sounds idiotic and insane when I say it out loud," Adam barked.

"Forget all that, let's just call it an old fool's sentimentality. Any more questions?" Fritz wanted to move the conversation away from his father, as it obviously upset his tutor. But he still had some things he wanted answered.

"You said he, my father, could predict attacks. Did he have something like my Danger Sense?" He asked.

"He likely did, though it was more Evolved than yours," Adam said.

"I never pressed him much on his Guide Sense."

"Do you know how it works?" Fritz asked hopefully.

"Not really. Save for the fact I know it isn't really foretelling the future. Like an Oracle," Adam said.

"Your father said it was more akin to reading causality. Whatever he meant by that. Maybe it's that the Sense is not as fixed as something like foretelling or Time-aligned abilities are." It sounded to Fritz like Adam knew more than he let on, or rather that the scraps of knowledge he had were gems to those who had nothing.

"You should test it out," Adam said.

"Surprised you haven't already."

"I've been a little busy, but you're right," Fritz said.

"You're about to get busier," Adam said.

"Enough chatter, let's get to your first lesson. Sword maintenance." Fritz almost groaned and George deflated somewhat too. Adam grinned at them smugly, he expected the reaction.

"To truly wield the sword one must first know the sword. And to know something one must first care for it. Love it," he espoused, pulling forth his rapier and gazing on it affectionately.

"The edge must be sharp and the point must be... pointy. And for those things to remain true, you need to know how to look after your sword." Fritz suppressed a sigh and listened as his tutor began to elaborate on all the pieces that made up a sword and how to properly care for them. Adam made them draw their own blades and display their condition. He was pleased with George's routinely oiled copperchange sword and appalled at Fritz's neglect of Quicksilver.

"I don't see why it's so important," Fritz argued.

"Treasures are nearly unbreakable, and Quicksilver is as sturdy as they come."

"Who told you that about Treasures? They certainly are not 'nearly unbreakable'. They're tougher than they should be, but they can absolutely be destroyed if put under enough strain," Adam lectured.

"They can also be overloaded or misused. In fact, that's why many don't hold with enchanting their Treasures as that usually introduces or intensifies flaws. I've also heard that a powerful enough dispel can ruin a Treasure rather than simply deactivate it." Fritz had not heard many of these things. According to most tales and rumours, Treasures were nigh-indestructible and he said so.

"Maybe in Rain City that's true enough. But in the wider world you can't count on that," Adam said.

"I've seen a Treasure spear, made of what looked like crystal or glass, shattered by a Sound-aligned power. It broke with so much force that it burst into flying pieces. A shard the size of my finger nearly took my eye." Fritz frowned, it was hard to believe a Treasure could break, but he had to take his tutor's word for it. From there, Adam continued with his instruction and the two listened intently. Even though George already knew what he had to teach, his eyes didn't dull for a moment.

He was a man who loved swords after all. After an hour, the first lesson was done. Yawning, Fritz made his way back to his room to find a new shirt to change into before his shower. To his mild annoyance, all his clothes were stained with dried blood or torn with long rents. He had only been staying here a week and already all his clothes were in need of mending. Fritz decided it was about time he visited his tailor again.

Sure he was in pain, sure he was exhausted, but this couldn't wait for much longer and he had more to commission from Colette. There was also that odd patch of cloth from the Mer Spire he had never identified, maybe she would know something about it. So it was with heavy legs and gritty eyes, that Fritz showered then put on a slightly cleaner shirt and began to make his way to the tailor's shop. Unsurprisingly, Lauren wanted to join to check on the progress of her robes, so they left together.

It would have been a pleasant errand, if not for all Fritz's lingering worries. Reflecting on the day he'd had and all his successes, he dismissed his fears for now. Umbrella unfurled and raised, they walked, and in those aching moments, he let his mind relax, and enjoy his attainments. Fritz had succeeded. He knew had much more to learn, but he was on the right path. He was making progress. And today he had grown stronger. It felt good.