19 Chapter 6. Training. Part 4.

This is an additional chapter for your stones, don't forget 300 power stones and there will be another additional chapter.

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As I detest the forge, Master literally stood at the entrance and watched as I tried to accomplish something. Of course, this wasn't my first attempt; one way or another, I had to complete every step of the process, even if not all together with the new shape.

Melting the metal in the furnace, blowing the fire with bellows, pouring it into a special clay mold, which, unfortunately, was absent, meant I had to pour a standard sword and then hammer it into something more akin to a rapier.

This was my task. My first creation was atrocious, slightly bent, and couldn't be properly sharpened, so Master sighed and decided it would do for training after he made some adjustments.

And now, I stepped aside, once again watching as the fire in the forge was stoked with bellows to heat my sword.

I'm glad Master found the right weapon for me, but I sense a new cycle of cunning training from the teacher ahead.

That contraption I've been jumping on is far from fully utilized. A few times, Master let me try an interval with a pendulum, and I even managed, but he just pursed his lips in displeasure and continued to make me simply jump back and forth, sometimes dodging stones he threw at me.

Master even promised to try selling my paintings, immediately claiming fifty percent for himself. I wasn't opposed; after all, I just had to paint, while he taught me, found where to sell them, and even brought me the money. Not to mention that I live at his expense, and despite his threats of work, it all ended in the first week when Master confirmed I was ready for dirty work and wouldn't complain.

I don't know what's so special about my paintings, but at a certain point, I became engrossed in the subject and began to paint on my own, landscapes from my head.

Perhaps this world isn't ready for cyberpunk paintings, but I didn't know Master would rush to sell everything. So, I began painting whatever pleased me. I even made a portrait of Mei from memory, which I didn't give for sale but kept to give to her when we meet. Mostly, I painted something futuristic, in dark tones. Occasionally, I was struck by lighter themes, then I painted flying islands with mills on them or something... airy, in general.

Master looked and looked, then decided to sell it, making me sign the back of each piece, not with my name but a pseudonym. I signed as Aki, not with a symbol but in the language from my previous world. So it wouldn't be easy to replicate, haha.

Okay, those are distant thoughts. For now, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the bellows, and a lightbulb went off in my head, marked "alert." I just couldn't figure out why, but I felt like slapping myself on the forehead to understand. You know, like when you've always known a word but just can't think of it at the moment, though it's on the tip of your tongue.

And on the next breath of air on the fire, which made it blaze even more, the thought finally struck.

Honestly, I had somewhat neglected airbending. Master keeps me thoroughly busy, and then I'm supposed to do something secretly on my own? No. At most, I managed to swing a sword a bit on weekends, trying some moves. Nothing worked.

We blow air on the fire - we make it stronger. I think I've figured out how to disguise my bending, and if I'm right, very effectively so.

"Master, I need to step out," I muttered and, without waiting for his response, absorbed in my thoughts, walked to another corner of the yard, slightly hidden from prying eyes, not forgetting to take a candle with me.

It's going to be pure madness—if I manage to do this, it will be something else. Damn, I'll be able to show everyone that I'm a bender, and if I'm right about the reaction between fire and oxygen, then... it's going to be very, very impressive.

Turns out, I had it all wrong. Initially, I struggled for hours to adjust my bending so as not to blow out the candle. More like blowing everything away underneath it.

By supplying just a bit of airflow, I indeed intensified the flame... to the level of "blow on a candle, and it burns a bit brighter." My plan went down the drain.

My wind was just that—wind. I needed oxygen. And how do you suppose I obtain that? I'm an Airbender, not an Oxygenbender. As far as I remember, you can interact with elements other than your own, but it works in a way that you control a minor part within something larger—like earth in metal, but not the other way around. No one thought about extracting a specific part from the earth.

But that's exactly what I need! And how do I do it?

Disheartened, I went back to Master, who was finishing up giving the blade a proper shape.

"We won't make the guard as depicted in the picture for now, we'll make it simpler," explained the master upon seeing me. And indeed, the guard in the picture was too much. They tried to make it as light as possible while maintaining its protective properties, resulting in a complex pattern starting on the blade and ending at the handle's end, forming a protective semi-dome for the hand.

"Do we really need to make such a big pommel?" I asked, watching as Master attached a sizable ball at the bottom of the handle.

"Yes, it's necessary to maintain balance," Piandao explained, continuing his work, "trust me, balance is crucial, no matter what anyone says."

"Sure, only I prefer to double-check everything because I've noticed you have stereotypes you willingly follow and refuse to break," I candidly explained.

"Are you planning to wield such rapiers in both hands, unbalance both to tip towards the blade, and still call yourself my student?" the master paused his work, speaking quietly and insidiously.

"Well..." I averted my gaze, twisting my lips in a "why not" expression, "I'll be performing great feats! Think about it: why do I need a sword balanced towards the handle? I don't block and act only by attacking. On the contrary—I need the balance to tip towards the blade to make my strikes stronger."

I vividly remember from my past life that the balance of cold weapons was played with differently. This stubborn man is only accustomed to one type of balance—like on his swords, precisely in the middle of the sword—the point of equilibrium—and refuses to consider other options.

He has a certain stubbornness and rigidity about many things related to his path. But what irritates him the most is that I don't argue with him much—I carefully do what I need to do. And more often than not, he eventually acknowledges I was right.

"Oh, Agni, what have I done to deserve such a student," Piandao looked up to the sky, then abruptly removed the large pommel, "here's your formidable weapon. I'll give you half an hour to swing it around and get used to it, then we'll have a sparring session."

Said and done. I spent the entire half hour swinging my new rapier around, and what can I say? I liked it. It was lighter than a sword, had less air resistance, and I could act much faster with the rapier than with the usual iron piece. The balance indeed initially caused a lot of resistance, but just half an hour later, I had already gotten used to it.

When the Master returned, clean from the soot after the forge and with his sword, I first asked:

"And what about the second rapier?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Master one first," the teacher closed his eyes, "then we'll see. Let's begin."

Here's why the Master himself stepped forward instead of putting me against Fat. Quite simply - Fat is a swordsman, but he's far from a master's level, and in a real sword fight, at least one person must fully understand the situation. Otherwise, it's too easy to accidentally kill each other.

So, the master lunged forward, trying to skewer me with his sword in one quick movement. I jumped aside, trying to counterattack, receiving a block and counter-strike, from which I dodged.

This was going to take a while.

For about ten minutes, we danced around the platform, more accurately, I pranced almost thoughtlessly, expending energy, while the master made precise thrusts, using minimal energy and unnecessary force.

The rapier felt like it belonged in my hand, and I wouldn't want to go back to a sword for anything. I saw even the master had to try because it was hard to keep up with me and defend against a longer weapon that could reach from an unconventional distance with any of my acrobatic moves. Though he clearly wasn't trying his hardest. I'm sure if it were a real fight, he would have ended it quickly.

Of course, it all ended with my mistake - I didn't jump back in time, deciding to strike again but got a heavy block, which made me stagger, and the master's next strike was supposed to be the winning one.

Thankfully, he didn't kill me, thanks to the gods and spirits.

"Very well," Piandao smiled, "it seems the rapier is indeed your weapon..."

"Two rapiers," I specified, cheekily smiling.

"...and now, I think it's time for you to start gaining real combat experience," he continued, pretending not to notice, "your skills are sufficient to deal with the local riffraff, so we'll refine your rapier, sharpen it, and in a week you'll go and clean up these places."

"And what kind of combat experience will I get from bandits?" I exhaled, realizing he was serious, "do you want me to face my first kill in controlled conditions?"

"That too," the Master nodded. He had gotten used to the fact that I see his motives and words very clearly, "but combat experience not in terms of movements - you're already at a good level with that, and whatever is lacking we'll improve, but in terms of readiness to use a weapon against a person. Many factors. And this is part of the training."

"Yes, I get it, I get it... master," I decided to add some formality.

Externally I remained calm, but it immediately became heavy on my soul. I really didn't want to step out of my comfort zone, go looking for someone, kill, and take responsibility for my actions. It's unlikely the master will lead me by hand to a camp with bad guys and point them out - I'll need to find them, understand that they are bad, and then…

Alright, we'll tackle problems as they arise, and there's still a week until this particular issue. Right now, I'm more interested in how to split air into oxygen and the rest.

Master Piandao has already left to attend to his important matters: drawing, forging, drinking, or engaging in carnal pleasures. There seems to be no middle ground. Well, actually, there is a fifth option - teaching me, of course.

So, I went to my secluded corner. There's a nice garden here: with trees, stones, and even a stream, and the trees grow in such a way that they hide me from view from the windows.

But right now, I don't need that. My plan is simple - meditation. Well, what else to do? I need to somehow understand how it works. Power is everywhere, for power the size does not matter, for power, desire is important.

That's where we'll start, like a Jedi - I wish to wield oxygen. Right. Now I just need to figure out whom I'm going to tell these wishes to.

Okay, I sit down in the lotus position, after placing the rapier in front of me. Well, why not? Now I need to carry it everywhere with me - like the Master carries his sword. And no one has made a sheath for me yet, and I can't do it myself. Sheath making is more towards tailoring than blacksmithing, and thank god, the master doesn't teach me that. Otherwise, I'd think I came to a craftsman, not a swordsman.

Alright, what do we have? Habitually letting a breeze into my thoughts, I sat down to ponder, first off, at what stage to extract oxygen? When the breeze is in the thoughts, in the body, or when it's already outside the body? While mulling over this question, I habitually moved the state back and forth, the breeze in my thoughts, the breeze in my body and back again.

What to do next?

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