Twin Reincarnation: Epics Of The Worldline

13 13 Last training

[OP: ]

In the same pure white room, an attractive young youth was sitting cross-legged.

His breathing was slow, so slow and distant that it seemed that he wasn't breathing at all.

The youth had ash-white hair and his long eyelashes were calm as he practiced his unique breathing.

Mana was gathered around his body and as time passed, it continued increasing.

The Mana around his body was also calm, but, it was also visible. The density of Mana was increasing as a result of his breathing.

The Mana around him was visible and dense as if it was a small piece of cloud.

We can tell the youth also had a pretty strong build thanks to his finely toned body that was visible under his sweat-drenched clothing.

These clothes were normal: a blue cardigan and white cotton pants that commoners wore.

But...

The air of wisdom and awe around him remained unchanged despite his clothing.

A fine wooden sword with a brilliant red gem embedded in it was positioned next to him.

The space was quiet, and everything was serene.

But after some time, he opened his eyes deep crystal blue eyes.

The Mana cloud that had been surrounding his body abruptly disappeared into him as the atmosphere transformed into something same but filled with a strange dense pressure.

Picking up his sword, he put the sword on his waist and held it with its sheath.

Once more, he closed his eyes and took a series of short, shallow breaths that, to someone standing to the side, appeared to be single long breath.

This was [Shallow breathing]. A breathing skill that increased stamina and concentration, as well as Mana regeneration.

It was the last of the five skills he had created until now and in this moment, he was about to combine all those skills and create a unique new one.

So he took the shallow breaths and after that, he started walking into the endless white room.

He took a step, but before our eyes could follow it, he had already moved forward two steps.

The movements of this walk were unpredictable by normal means but, if looked closely, there were still many patterns and variations from his constant movements.

He was dancing, and this dance was silent.

It was silent and when seen from afar, we can think of this as a swan dancing in the water.

He incorporated his silent movements with his occasional stabs, cuts, and slashes.

The thrust contained pure power and just from the resulting force, we can guess that it was powerful enough to destroy enormous boulders.

The cuts were fast, precise, and more than anything, they had no sound.

A silent attack as if an assassin's.

But this one wasn't a sudden, silent ambush like the assassins... no.

This was a deadly frontal assault that would kill even if the enemy perceives it.

This was something that seemed unreal, but the accurate and perfect repetition of it would spark many questions in the spectators.

His thrusts contained power, the cuts contained speed and precision, and the last one in these movements was a horizontal slash.

A slash that wasn't only speed, precision, and dedication, but also personification of accuracy.

Just like an archer aiming for the eye of the target, his sword that came out for blood never strayed from the path after leaving the sheath.

The rhythm of this dance was something like step, step, cut, cut, cut, step, step, step, step, thrust, thrust, step, step, step, step, step, step.

Then a break stops those interconnected movements.

A quick breath, stance for the slash, hand on the hilt, tightening of the grip, focusing all attention...

-click!

A subtle click and flash of a deadly red light blinds us for almost half a second.

That was all, and the cycle of steps continued in the same tune as the melody continued.

He walked, slashed, cut, stabbed, and continued his breathing until he established a perfect harmony of movements.

The movements that first seemed precise and dedicated turned into aesthetic beauty with the passage of time.

A beauty and a dance performance that was so mesmerizing to see that one might want to get close and touch it.

But, if someone actually did that, first they would cut their fingers down into pieces, small pieces as the cut fingers would get chopped by multiple silent cuts.

Then, their heads would get obliterated, blasting into pieces from the powerful thrust of the tip of the sword.

The person would lose their life on the spot from having no head, but that wouldn't be the end.

The wilder of the sword would take a turn, prepare a stance, gather strength at the edge of the sword, and...

-Click!

With that, the foolish being that entered this area of dance would be cut in perfectly half with blood, insides, and pieces of their body painting the ground in red.

The chunks of flesh that would scatter after that thrust would rain in the area, and all of this would happen in mere seconds.

But, that scenario is just something hypothetical that only had a slight chance of coming true in the far-far future.

That was the current status of the endless white room and the boy that danced like a swan increased his speed.

This was fast, fast enough for eyes to miss many things.

Now, more than one cut was happening in a single second.

The complete circle that took two minutes to finish was shortened to one minute.

The young boy was maintaining this stance, dancing, breathing, and had a roaring heartbeat but... the blue vines that had popped up on his head were signs that he was reaching his limits.

But his bright smile also showed that he was almost there.

He was just a step away.

A slash, cut, and thrust away from achieving what he was seeking with all his heart.

And the time... had come.

With the final three triangular cuts, a thunderous thrust, and tranquil steps, he stopped and took the last stance.

This stop was different from all those quick ones.

He was calm; the wait was long; the stance was firm, and... there was a fire on his sword.

A pure red fire, devoid of any other color.

A unique fire of anger, hatred, wreath, and loneliness.

Looking at this fire, one couldn't feel the common hot, burning sensation.

Instead, this fire was cold.

It was icy cold and a stark contradiction to its color.

Just from looking at it, one could tell...

This wasn't just any normal fire.

This particular fire-like energy was something different from the normal Mana of the world.

The personification of one's true self and pure destructive power: this was <Aura>.

Something that only [Intermediate-ranked] knights should possess.

And holding this power would mean the boy that didn't even look 10 years old has just achieved something that even prodigies of noble houses took 17 years to master.

But... this wasn't this boy's goal.

He wasn't finished just yet.

There was still the last movement left, and he was ready for it.

The bright smile on his face showed his confidence.

And... when the sword left the sheath this time, the results spoke for his efforts themselves.

-Click.

An almost silent click echoed in the surroundings and that followed with...

-Boooooooooom!

A gigantic explosion.

Something had blasted, and something has been torn apart.

Something has just been slashed and that something... was space itself.

A blue fracture appeared in the space where the horizontal slash should have been.