In the heart of the Time Chamber, Max faced his new challenge—the mastery of flight. With the memory of his harmonious connection with the wind still fresh, he approached this task with an optimism that would soon be eroded by the cruel sting of failure.
"Flight isn't just an extension of harmony, Max," Kremeth had explained, "it's about taking control, bending the wind to your will, making it a tool for your command." These words echoed in Max's mind as he prepared for his first attempt at levitation.
He started by focusing his energy, the energy that now harmonised with the wind. Drawing from his earlier lessons, he channelled this energy around him, creating a buffer between himself and the ground. He felt the wind responding, circling around him, however, while he felt a slight upthrust it was not enough to lift him off his feet completely.
After his discussions with Kremeth, he knew he was on the right path, however, the force of upthrust that he was generating was not enough to lift up his 6 '4 over 180 pound body frame.
For 3 months he practised again and again, the only goal being to generate enough upthrust to finally levitate until one day with his heart pounding in his chest he felt his feet leave the ground.
Instantly, A sense of elation rushed over him. He was doing it! He was levitating!
But this success was as fleeting as the wind he sought to control.
The initial euphoria quickly turned into alarm as he felt his control slipping. His energy started fluctuating, and he could no longer hold onto the wind circling him. The very wind that had lifted him now felt like a wild beast, refusing to be tamed.
He felt like a magnetic top, he could only levitate if his body weight was perfectly balanced, if he leaned his body towards either side he felt the wind-spin under him not being able to support him properly as he would dangerously lose control.
When he saw the various god's tear through space flying, he never thought that flight skill would be such a difficult endeavour to master, only now when he was trying to learn it from scratch did he truly realise how much of a monumental task it really was.
Day after day, Max crashed back to the ground with a thud that echoed through the empty plain. The repeated impact rattling his bones and leaving him dazed and bruised.
But more than the physical pain, it was the sting of failure that hurt him the most.
This cycle of bruising crashes and debilitating failures became a constant in Max's training. Each unsuccessful attempt chipped away at his optimism, replacing it with frustration and a sense of desolation.
He had now been inside the time chamber for over 3.5 years and the sense of loneliness and repetitive training was finally beginning to gnaw at his sense of self and motivation.
He missed Asiva, Sebastian and his friends, the inability to see their faces and talk to them made him crumble to the verge of tears as every night as he went to sleep the first demons that he had to face were inside his own mind, as to wake up and train another day without having any significant results was a task in its own.
When his mastery of flight did not improve after 4 months of trying, His initial buoyancy was replaced by a sinking feeling of inadequacy. His once unscathed resolve was now marred by a gnawing sense of failure.
As Max's failures mounted, so did his struggles with controlling his mana.
Levitation, even for those brief moments, was taxing on his mana reserves, not because he did not have the necessary reserves to maintain the move, but because his mana was primarily of the fire nature and to use it for any other task meant that it needed to be expended at a much higher rate.
He could feel his energy depleting drastically with each attempt, leaving him exhausted and panting.
This rapid depletion made it evident to Max that mastery over flight required not just control over the wind, but also extensive mana control.
Further adding to his woes was the challenge posed by the high wind regions in the Time Chamber. The wild winds here were powerful, erratic, and difficult to control. They tossed him about like a leaf, violently throwing him off course. More often than not, he'd find himself crashing into nearby trees or boulders, leaving him bruised and battered.
In the next six months, his progress was not what he'd hoped for. He could now levitate and glide a few feet above the ground, but his control was shaky at best, and he was far from achieving the seamless flight he aimed for.
His body was covered in scars, his spirit weighed down by the gravity of his failures. The once optimistic Max was now filled with dread, yet he refused to give up.
The road to flight mastery was indeed harsh and unforgiving, but Max knew he had to continue, because there was only one way out of this chamber and that was after completing everything that Angakok demanded off him.
************
( Meanwhile Asiva )
" Hahaha "
For the first time in over 3 months Asiva laughed heartily after receiving the first battle report from Sebastian.
When Asiva appointed him as the head of the Bloodfall clan forces, she had her doubts about his abilities, yet in his first week of deployment he broke a stalemate that was there since the last 12 years.
Not only was Sebastian extremely dominating in his performance, he completed the mission without the loss of a single soldier whereas the enemy lose close to 35,000 troops.
It was a big slap across the face of the Barbarians and brought a lot of prestige to the Bloodfall clan who was now gaining reputation as the upstart clan who had the balls to do what no other clan did.
The morale on the border planets had improved significantly as a result of Sebastian's bravery as the other clan commanders felt a renewed sense of hope and competition where they felled compelled to achieve similar results to the Bloodfall clan.
Ever since Sebastian had returned the demand to meet Max again had been mounting significantly and Asiva was finding it harder and harder to justify his absence.
As a new lord, the perception of Max was now infamous to pawn off all his work on his internal ministers while he chased vain glory.
Those who were aware of the impending war believed that Max was out to find tools that would help his clan survive their doom, but those who were not aware of the war thought that he was unfit to rule.
The most troubling were the merchants, although Christian Grey did his job as the trade minister to keep issues to the minimum, by nature the merchants were a group of greedy bastards who were never happy with government policies.
Those groups kept demanding a meeting with the lord for subjects where Christian had refused to budge and were not happy with Asiva when she did not give the judgement in their favour.
She missed Max, but thankfully with Sebastian now returning back from his trip with such a powerful artefact she now had an excuse that Max was out looking for lost treasures that would guide the clan to unbelievable heights.
Hopefully when he returned, he would be strong enough to justify all the days where he had missed his civil duties.
**********
( Meanwhile Anna )
Anna had been training in the heart of the royal Elven forest for the last three months, pouring her very essence into a task she once believed impossible.
The goal? Master the fabled Eolande Arc, a powerful archery move capable of raining devastation upon armies. It was a move veiled in secrecy, known only to the royal Elven family from generations past.
With the dawn of each new day, Anna would drew her bow, whispering ancient Elven incantations as she carefully notched a single enchanted arrow.
Her slender fingers worked methodically, each etching in the arrowhead glinting in the early light, signifying the elements she commanded – wind, fire, and spirit. Each shot was a prayer, a plea to the ancient world tree that controlled the very threads of nature.
As the sun set on the ninety-first day, a sense of calm resolution washed over Anna. Her eyes, sharp and intense as an eagle's gaze, gleamed with a newfound strength. She took her position, grounding herself firmly on the rich forest earth, pulling back the bowstring with a steady determination. As she whispered the incantation one last time, a blinding light enveloped the arrow, its raw energy crackling, echoing the promise of imminent power.
Releasing the bowstring, Anna felt a rush of energy surge through her. The arrow soared skyward, splitting into ten thousand identical fragments, each humming with deadly intent. It was as though time itself had stilled, as every arrow found its path, guided by the ancient powers Anna had invoked.
Then came the rain, a flurry of magical arrows, each capable of piercing the strongest armors and the sturdiest shields. It was a scene of both awe-inspiring beauty and terrifying devastation. She could picture it clearly: an enemy army caught in the open, with no place to hide, no shield to block, just the imminent storm of her magical arrows blotting out the sun.
Anna exhaled, the strain of the move evident in her heaving breaths. But within her eyes sparkled a victorious gleam. She had done it. She had finally mastered the Eolande Arc. This was not just a move; it was a symphony of power and devastation orchestrated by the finest archer of the Elven realm.
It was a sight to behold, a sight that gave a foreboding promise of the power that lay within her.
With this move under her belt now, she was ready to become the chief Archer of the Bloodfall clan army, ready to slow down any open assault on thier forces!
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