Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Blade's Lesson**

The white expanse of the void seemed to stretch endlessly, a blank canvas against which the harsh reality of Ethan's training under Guts unfolded. The sun, an artificial construct in this place, rose and set at regular intervals, marking the passage of days in a world where time seemed irrelevant.

Guts was a relentless teacher. His approach to training was as unforgiving as the world he came from. The first lesson was basic swordsmanship. The weight of the practice sword in Ethan's hands felt foreign, a stark contrast to the lightweight controllers he was used to.

"Balance and stance," Guts grunted, demonstrating a basic form. He held his sword, an imposing and heavy blade, as if it were an extension of his own body. Ethan tried to mimic the stance, his legs aching with the effort to maintain the position.

Guts corrected him, often with a sharp tap from his sword. "You're too stiff. Loosen up. The sword is your partner, not a piece of dead weight."

As the training progressed, Ethan's hands blistered, his muscles screamed, and sweat dripped into his eyes. Guts showed no mercy, driving him harder with each passing day. They practiced strikes, parries, and footwork, the repetitious clanging of metal echoing in the void.

But it wasn't just physical training. Guts spoke of the mental and emotional discipline required of a swordsman. He told stories of his battles, of the pain, loss, and the rage that fueled him. His words were often harsh, laced with the brutal reality of his experiences.

One evening, as the artificial sun dipped below the horizon, Guts delved into a lesson that Ethan would never forget. "In battle, it's kill or be killed. You hesitate, you die. Remember that."

The next day, Guts introduced Ethan to the harsher realities of combat. They sparred, and for the first time, Guts didn't hold back. Ethan found himself on the defensive, desperately parrying a flurry of blows that seemed to come from every direction. A particularly swift strike caught him off-guard, leaving a shallow cut on his arm.

The pain was sharp, real, a stark reminder that this was no game. Blood trickled down his arm, but Guts didn't pause. "Your enemy won't stop because you're bleeding. Fight!"

Ethan's vision blurred, a mix of sweat and blood. He swung his sword, clumsy, driven more by instinct than skill. Guts easily sidestepped, but Ethan's blade grazed him, leaving a mark.

Guts stopped, looking at the scratch on his arm, then at Ethan. There was a hint of approval in his eyes. "Good. You're learning. But don't get cocky."

That night, as Ethan nursed his wounds, he realized the enormity of the path he had chosen. This was no longer about playing hero; it was about survival, about fighting with everything he had.

Days turned into weeks. Ethan's skills grew, as did his understanding of the sword and the responsibilities it carried. He learned to move with the blade, to anticipate his opponent's moves. The physical pain of training became a constant companion, but so did a sense of growing strength and confidence.

But it was the nights that were the hardest. When the adrenaline faded, and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of his situation settled in. He was a long way from home, in a world he didn't understand, training under a swordsman whose life was a testament to struggle and pain.

Yet, Ethan didn't falter. He remembered why he was here, what he needed to achieve. Each morning, he rose, picked up his sword, and faced Guts, ready to learn, to fight, to become something more than he ever thought he could be.

In the white void, under the tutelage of the Black Swordsman, Ethan's journey as a Blade Summoner truly began.

The grueling routine established a rhythm in the void. Each day, Ethan's understanding of the sword deepened, his body adapting to the relentless demands of Guts' training. The void, once stark and intimidating, now felt like a crucible, forging him anew.

Guts began to introduce more complex techniques, each one a puzzle for Ethan to solve with his body and mind. They practiced counters, quick-draw strikes, and evasion. Guts emphasized not just the attack, but the art of reading an opponent, predicting their movements, and responding with precision.

"Every swordsman has a rhythm," Guts explained during one of their breaks. "Learn to hear it, to feel it. In that rhythm, you'll find their weakness."

Ethan took these words to heart, practicing until the movements of his sword became a dance, a fluid expression of his will. He began to see the sword not just as a weapon, but as an extension of his own being, a conduit for his thoughts and intentions.

But physical prowess was only part of the lesson. Guts challenged Ethan's mental resilience. He set up scenarios, simulations of battles with overwhelming odds, testing Ethan's ability to think under pressure, to strategize and adapt.

"You're improving," Guts acknowledged one day, after a particularly intense session. "But remember, a true swordsman is not just defined by skill, but by the strength of his spirit."

Ethan felt the truth in these words. He had come a long way from the boy who had first awakened in the void. His body was stronger, his mind sharper. But it was his spirit, tempered by challenges and hardened by determination, that had undergone the most profound transformation.

As their training continued, Guts occasionally spoke of his own journey, of the hardships he had faced, the battles he had fought. These stories, filled with pain and perseverance, resonated with Ethan. They were reminders of the cost of strength, of the burdens carried by those who choose the path of the sword.

In the stillness of the void, under a simulated night sky, Ethan often reflected on these tales. He thought of his own world, his family, his friends. He missed them, but he also knew that this journey was necessary. He had been chosen for a reason, and he would not let that responsibility go unfulfilled.

One day, as they rested after a particularly grueling exercise, Guts looked at Ethan with a seriousness that was rare, even for him. "You're almost ready," he said. "The next part of your journey will test you in ways you can't imagine. But I believe you have the strength to face it."

Ethan nodded, understanding the gravity of Guts' words. He felt a mix of apprehension and excitement. He was no longer the same person who had entered the void. He was a Blade Summoner, a warrior tempered by trial and forged in the fires of relentless training.

As the artificial sun rose on another day in the void, Ethan stood beside Guts, his sword in hand, his heart steady. He was ready for whatever came next, ready to face the challenges of the Summoner's Void, and to step closer to the destiny that awaited him.

In the endless expanse of the white void, Ethan had found his purpose, his strength, and the resolve to continue his journey, no matter what trials lay ahead.

The void's endless daybreak heralded a new phase in Ethan's training. Guts, standing tall and imposing as ever, watched Ethan with a critical eye. "Today, we spar differently. You will lead, and I will follow. Show me what you've learned."

Ethan gripped his sword, feeling its familiar weight. He focused, recalling every lesson, every correction Guts had made. He lunged forward, initiating the attack with a series of swift, calculated strikes.

Guts defended effortlessly, his movements a seamless flow of counterattacks and parries. "Good. But don't just attack. Think. Why this strike? What's your next move?"

Ethan's mind raced, analyzing each move, predicting Guts' responses. He feinted, then pivoted, aiming for an opening. Guts blocked, but Ethan could see a flicker of approval in his eyes.

Ethan's Thoughts: 'I'm pushing him. Maybe not much, but it's something. Every swing I take, every step I make, it's not just about the fight. It's about understanding myself, my limits.'

Guts stepped back, allowing a brief pause. "You're learning. But remember, in a real fight, your enemy won't give you time to think. Instinct and training must merge."

Guts' Perspective: He saw potential in Ethan, a raw, untapped spirit that reminded him of his own journey. The boy had the heart of a fighter, a resilience that could be honed into something formidable.

Resuming their dance of blades, Guts pushed Ethan harder. The clashing of their swords echoed, a testament to the intensity of their duel.

Guts' Thoughts: 'He's adapting, growing stronger with each strike. But he has yet to face real adversity, the kind that tests not just skill, but the will to endure.'

As the training progressed, Ethan's exhaustion mounted, but so did his determination. He could feel his body tiring, but his spirit refused to yield.

Ethan's Perspective: Every muscle screamed in protest, but his mind was clear. This was more than training; it was a journey of self-discovery, of pushing beyond limits he never knew he had.

Finally, Guts halted the spar, sheathing his sword. "Enough for today. You've done well."

Ethan dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, sweat dripping down his face. "Thank you," he managed to say between breaths. "I won't let you down."

Guts nodded, his expression softening for a moment. "Rest. Tomorrow, we train again. But remember, the true test is yet to come."

Ethan's Thoughts: As he lay in the void's artificial night, Ethan reflected on Guts' words. He felt a mix of fear and anticipation. He knew he had grown, but the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty. Yet, he felt ready to face whatever came his way.

In the silent expanse of the void, under a sky that was never truly dark, Ethan found a sense of peace. His journey was far from over, but he was no longer the boy who had awoken in this strange world. He was a fighter, a summoner, a swordsman in his own right.

As the artificial dawn broke, signaling another day in the void, Ethan rose, his resolve unshaken. He was ready to continue his training, to face the challenges ahead, and to embrace the destiny that awaited him in the Summoner's Void.

As the artificial sun crept above the horizon, Guts stood, his silhouette a stark contrast against the light. "Today's lesson is about adaptability," he said, his voice resonant in the stillness of the void. "In battle, the unexpected is your constant companion."

Ethan nodded, tightening his grip on his sword. He had come to realize that each day brought a new facet of learning, a new challenge to overcome.

Guts' eyes narrowed. "I will change my style today. You need to adapt, find the way to counter. Be fluid."

Ethan's Thoughts: 'Adapt. That's what I've been doing all my life. Adapting to new situations, new challenges. This is no different.'

The spar commenced with Ethan observing Guts' altered stance and movements. The Black Swordsman was faster, more unpredictable. Ethan struggled to keep up, his movements reactive rather than proactive.

Guts' Perspective: Watching Ethan falter, Guts recognized the signs of frustration. 'He needs to learn not to let his emotions control him. A calm mind finds the path through chaos.'

"Your emotions are your enemy as much as I am," Guts called out. "Calm yourself. Think."

Ethan took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He watched Guts, not just as an opponent, but as a teacher, an embodiment of the skills he sought to master.

Ethan's Thoughts: 'He's right. I need to be calm. Observe. Adapt.'

The fight continued, and slowly, Ethan began to anticipate Guts' moves. His body moved with a newfound fluidity, his strikes more confident.

Guts' Thoughts: 'He's learning. Finding his rhythm. There's hope for him yet.'

As the spar drew to a close, Ethan managed to disarm Guts, a feat that seemed impossible just weeks before. They both stood, panting, acknowledging the milestone.

"You've done well," Guts said, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "But don't get complacent. The hardest lessons are yet to come."

Ethan's Perspective: As he lay recovering that night, Ethan reflected on his journey. 'I've come far, but there's so much more to learn. I can't stop now. I won't.'

The following days were a blur of training, each session more intense than the last. Ethan's skills sharpened, but so did the realization of the immense journey ahead.

One night, as the artificial stars shone in the void's sky, Guts shared more of his story, the losses and hardships that had shaped him. Ethan listened, absorbing every word.

Guts' Perspective: Sharing his past, Guts saw it as a chance to teach Ethan about resilience. 'It's not just about fighting. It's about enduring, surviving.'

Ethan's respect for Guts deepened, understanding the depth of the man who was both his mentor and unlikely ally.

Ethan's Thoughts: 'His story… it's brutal, but it's real. It's about the struggle, the will to keep going. I need that strength.'

As the chapter of Ethan's training in the void continued, he grew not just in skill, but in understanding - of the blade, of himself, and of the relentless pursuit of strength in the face of insurmountable odds.

In the Summoner's Void, under the tutelage of the Black Swordsman, Ethan was being forged anew, not just as a Blade Summoner, but as a warrior capable of facing the unknown challenges that lay ahead in his extraordinary journey.