Chapter 111: Sword Heart Training
Later that same day, after returning from Armani’s cottage and finishing his lunch, Zac rested briefly before sitting cross-legged in the center of his house.
He closed his eyes and began practicing the ’Sword Heart’ technique left behind by his father.
Sword Heart was an ’SS-rank mental technique’ divided into four realms.
The first realm was known as Mirror Heart, the foundation of the entire technique. It tempered the mind into an unshakable mirror, allowing emotions to be acknowledged and reflected without letting them seize control.
It also strengthened the practitioner’s resistance to mental interference, illusions, and emotional corruption.
The second realm was called Heart Domain. At this stage, the stability of the practitioner’s mind was no longer confined within them. It expanded outward, forming an invisible mental domain capable of suppressing hostile intent and weakening external mental influences.
The third realm was Heart Sword.
Upon reaching this realm, the practitioner’s mind became as sharp as a sword yet as tranquil as still water. It vastly enhanced the technique’s offensive capabilities, allowing mental energy to be wielded in a manner similar to Mana.
It also elevates the practitioner’s concentration, clarity, and emotional composure to an extraordinary degree.
The fourth and final realm was known as the Unbreakable Sword Heart.
However, the records left behind by his father contained no explanation of what awaited beyond its threshold.
[Your father claimed that he personally created the technique. Perhaps he never reached the final realm, or could not simply develop it any further.]
That’s what the system said, but Zac had a different theory.
Perhaps his father had been capable of completing the final realm but had simply run out of time before his disappearance.
After practicing for nearly two hours, Zac slowly opened his eyes and released a long breath.
His thoughts felt clearer than before, and the emotions lingering in the depths of his mind had quietened considerably.
He ate a light meal and rested for a while before beginning his second training session.
This time, he focused on improving his Mana control.
Initially, Zac believed his control was already refined enough to begin practicing Mana Coating directly.
But the system strongly disagreed and insisted that he was nowhere near ready.
Naturally, Zac ignored it.
He circulated Mana through all twelve meridians and gradually spread it across his body, covering himself one section at a time.
At first, everything proceeded surprisingly well. The Mana expanded steadily until a faint, translucent layer enveloped his entire body.
The moment the coating was completed, however, it began trembling violently. Barely a few seconds later, the entire layer collapsed and dispersed into the air, nearly causing a backlash.
Zac’s eyes snapped open as he coughed, a thin trace of blood escaping the corner of his mouth.
[This is why juniors should listen to their vastly superior seniors.]
After enduring the system’s ensuing lecture, Zac began analyzing what had gone wrong.
His fundamental Mana control was already at a respectable level. He could direct Mana wherever he wished and shape it according to his will.
The problem was endurance.
Manipulating Mana came naturally to him, but maintaining such precise control over an extended period placed an immense strain on his concentration.
Instead of immediately attempting Mana Coating again, Zac changed his approach.
He gathered roughly the same amount of Mana required to coat his entire body and began shaping it into different objects, attempting to keep each one stable for as long as possible.
The constructs would begin trembling after several seconds. Whenever his concentration faltered, even momentarily, they would collapse and dissolve into the air.
Each time one disappeared, Zac formed another and tried to maintain it for one second longer. He repeated the process until his entire Mana reserve was depleted.
Once his body was empty, he meditated, replenished his mana, and began the exercise again.
The training continued for the next four hours. By the time Zac finally stopped, his clothes were completely drenched in sweat.
He slowly rose and collapsed onto the lounge chair.
[So, how do you feel?]
"About what?"
[Your training, obviously.]
Zac leaned his head back against the chair. "Other than nearly suffering a backlash, I think it went well."
He lowered his gaze to his hands. "For some reason, my mind felt calmer while I was controlling Mana. It was easier to concentrate than before."
[And why do you think that is?]
Zac considered it for a moment and said. "The Sword Heart technique?"
[Exactly.]
The system once again slipped into its self-proclaimed sensei mode and began explaining.
[As someone carrying the Fallen bloodline, your mind is never truly at peace. Even when you suppress your worries and emotions to focus on something else, they continue stirring beneath the surface.]
[You may not consciously notice them, but they still erode your concentration and mental clarity.]
[Practicing Sword Heart beforehand helped settle those turbulent thoughts and emotions. Since your mastery remains rudimentary and you have yet to complete even the first realm, it cannot suppress them indefinitely.]
[Nevertheless, it allowed you to begin your Mana-control training with a clearer, calmer, and more focused mind.]
Zac nodded slowly. "So that’s why you told me to practice the mental technique first?"
[Good. Because I was beginning to think listening wasn’t one of your abilities.]
"Hey, the reason I ignored you and attempted Mana Coating despite your warning is that ninety-nine percent of what comes out of your mouth is complete BS."
[You mean brilliant strategy, surely.]
("...") Zac stared at the system panel. "Bullshit."
[Thank you for your continued patronage.]
Zac adjusted his position on the lounge chair and continued speaking.
"I understand that I need better endurance before I can practice Mana Coating properly, but what about Sword Heart? How long will it take me to master even the first realm?"
[How long have you been practicing it?]
"About two months."
He paused.
"Fine, I stopped for a while in between. But altogether, I’ve still practiced it for at least a month."
[A month is nothing more than a speck of dust in a variant’s lifespan. People spend years mastering a single technique, yet here you are, wondering why you haven’t mastered an SS-rank mental technique after casually practicing it for one month.]
"Why does it sound so much worse when you say it like that?"
[Reality often is like that.]
The system continued before Zac could respond.
[Mental techniques are considerably harder to master than ordinary offensive or defensive techniques. Humans make the process even more difficult by habitually overcomplicating even the simplest matters.]
[And then there is you, not only human but also burdened with a volatile Fallen bloodline that constantly destabilises your emotions.]
Zac frowned slightly. "So you’re saying it could take me years to master Mirror Heart?"
[If that is what it requires, then yes.]
"Isn’t that too long? You do remember that I only have five years before doomsday drops directly onto my head, right?"
[The time required is irrelevant. What matters is what you obtain after mastering it.]
[Would you rather spend years forging an unshakable mind, or save time now and lose yourself the next time your bloodline goes berserk?]
Zac had no answer.
After what had happened when he opened his final meridian, he understood precisely how dangerous his emotional instability could become.
"Fine."
[Good. Patience is a virtue.]
"Please spare me the philosophical speech; I’m not in the mood."
Zac rose from the chair, took a long bath, and went to bed earlier than usual.
The following day would mark his first physical combat-training class, and he had no intention of arriving exhausted or half asleep.
***
The next morning, Zac woke early, prepared himself, and left the house.
Instead of heading toward their usual classroom, all first-year students had been instructed to assemble at the first-year training ground.
When Zac arrived, he found an enormous open field covered in tightly packed earth. Numerous wooden platforms of varying sizes had been arranged across the center, while a broad running track encircled the entire ground.
Marty and Daniel were already waiting near one of the platforms, engrossed in an animated conversation.
The moment Marty noticed Zac approaching, he raised a hand. "Hey!"
As soon as Zac drew closer, Marty leaned toward him conspiratorially. "Did you hear the news?"
Zac gave him a wary look. "Don’t tell me the world is undergoing a second apocalypse."
Marty’s expression immediately turned horrified. "Dude, don’t even joke about that."
Zac remained silent. "I wish it really were a joke."
[Sorry, I’m no Santa Claus.]
Oblivious to his thoughts, Marty continued, "What I meant is that Miss Matilda posted a message in the class group yesterday evening."
"We have a class group?" Zac asked.
Marty slapped a palm against his forehead. "I should have known. Didn’t you see any of the invitation messages we sent you?"
"No. I muted all incoming messages."
"Why would you even do that?"
"Well, after I defeated that guy on the first day..." Zac paused. "What was his name again? Whatever. After that, I started receiving contact requests and chat invitations from random people throughout the academy, so I disabled them."
Marty stared at him. "Bro, are you showing off your popularity and handsomeness right now?"
"Of course not. I’m merely stating the truth."
"Whatever." Marty hurriedly returned to the original topic. "Miss Matilda said none of our VSB location records placed us anywhere near the dead second-years, so we’re no longer considered suspects."
"Oh." Zac nodded far too deliberately. "Yes. Naturally. That is exactly what I expected."
He leaned back and forced an unconvincingly casual shrug.
"After all, a first-year defeating ten second-years after barely a month of training would be completely absurd, ridiculous, and practically impossible."
"Exactly," Marty agreed with suspicious enthusiasm. "Absolutely impossible. I still can’t believe they suspected first-years in the first place. What a foolish and entirely baseless assumption."
Zac nodded several times. "Indeed. Very foolish."
"Extremely foolish."
Daniel studied the two of them with narrowed eyes. "Why do I feel as though you’re both performing a badly rehearsed play?"