A month had passed since Kaiser had dedicated himself to mastering the basics. Day in and day out, he had drilled the fundamental footwork, refined his breathing techniques, perfected his stances, and honed his basic attacks. While other disciples, like Adriel and Clara, had already swiftly defeated their respective tower masters – Clara notably setting a new record for the shortest time and preparation – Kaiser had chosen a different path, a deeper immersion in the foundational elements of swordsmanship. Now, he felt ready.
He walked towards the First Tower, its imposing structure casting a long shadow under the midday sun. The air was thick with anticipation, the sounds of distant clashing swords and the shouts of training disciples a constant backdrop to the academy. As he approached the grand entrance of the First Tower, he noted the intricate carvings on its ancient wooden doors, depicting warriors in dynamic poses, their swords gleaming. A sense of history permeated the very stone of the tower, a testament to countless battles fought and countless lessons learned within its hallowed walls.
Pushing open the heavy door to the first floor, Kaiser stepped into a chamber that was surprisingly serene. The immediate impression was one of understated grandeur. Unlike the Spartan dorms or the utilitarian training grounds, this space exuded a quiet dignity. The walls, rather than being bare, were adorned with a breathtaking display of eighty meticulously crafted swords, each one unique in its design, handle, and blade curvature. They hung in perfect symmetry, bathed in the soft, diffused light filtering in from unseen sources above. In the center of the room, a man sat cross-legged on the polished stone floor, his eyes closed in deep meditation. This was the Tower Master of the First Floor.
As Kaiser entered, the Tower Master's eyes, sharp and intelligent, flickered open. He rose fluidly, his movements belying his serene posture. "So this is the first level," Kaiser remarked, his gaze sweeping across the impressive collection of blades. "I have to say, it's highly decorated."
The Tower Master's voice was calm, yet carried a profound resonance. "It is said that when the god was burying the Sword of Nadaka here, its power was too great, and it resisted being interred. So, to finally bury it, they shattered the sword's immense power into 6561 individual swords, and then placed a powerful seal upon them."
Kaiser's brow furrowed slightly. "I only see eighty swords here," he observed, counting them once more to be sure. "Where is the extra one?"
The Tower Master pointed subtly towards the ground in the very center of the room, where a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer seemed to emanate from the stone. "No one has ever been able to pull it out from the ground," he explained. "So, it's still there, sealed away."
Kaiser drew his own sword, its familiar weight a comfort in his hand. He looked at the array of ancient blades. "What if I wield these swords?" he asked, a playful challenge in his tone.
The Tower Master drew his own sword as well, its blade gleaming with a soft, ethereal light. "Even then, you won't be able to cut with it," he stated with quiet certainty. "Nadaka decides whether you are worthy or not."
Kaiser nodded, understanding. "Fine, enough chitchat," he said, shifting his stance. "Let's go."
With a burst of speed, Kaiser employed his basic footwork, charging towards the Tower Master. His movements were precise, efficient, a testament to his month of rigorous practice. However, the Tower Master merely adjusted his stance by a fraction, a subtle shift of weight and position, and met Kaiser's strike. As their blades connected with a sharp clang, Kaiser felt an unexpected surge of force. The Tower Master, with a mere step forward, fluidly changed his stance again, using the momentum to push Kaiser deftly to the side. Before Kaiser could fully recover, the Tower Master, already in the new stance, launched a swift counter-attack. Kaiser, utilizing his quick footwork, managed to back down just in time, narrowly avoiding the blow.
"Impressive footwork," the Tower Master praised, his voice devoid of mockery, "and your breathing technique is impressive too. You have learned the basics well."
Kaiser, catching his breath, asked, "Shouldn't you teach me the first verse of the Nadaka sword technique? Why are you just fighting me?"
The Tower Master smiled faintly. "I am just here to guide you. But you have to create your own verse; no one can teach you that." He shifted into another fluid stance, his sword held ready.
A revelation dawned on Kaiser. He understood now. His task wasn't to replicate, but to innovate. He had to create a technique, his own verse, that could break the Tower Master's impenetrable stance and attack. For a moment, he hesitated, his mind racing, trying to conceive a new approach.
Sensing his indecision, the Tower Master attacked, his blade flashing. Kaiser, relying on instinct and his perfected footwork, dodged. The man changed his stance again, attacking once more. Kaiser dodged again. The cycle continued, a relentless dance of evasion. Kaiser found himself with no time to think, no space to formulate a strategy. The Tower Master's attacks were too fast, too continuous. Eventually, Kaiser's speed, honed though it was, began to waver, and the Tower Master's blade grazed his shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood.
"I am fast like wind," the Tower Master declared, his voice cutting through the air. "You can't defeat me."
The word "wind" resonated in Kaiser's mind, a spark igniting a nascent idea. "Oh really?" he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "Let's see."
Kaiser closed his eyes, taking a distinct back stance, his body poised and focused. The Tower Master, intrigued by this sudden shift, allowed himself a small smile and attacked once more. Kaiser's mind raced. "I need that air slice," he thought, "that air slice!"
As the Tower Master closed in, Kaiser, with a swift, almost imperceptible motion, sliced his sword through the air. But this was no ordinary cut. Drawing upon his sorcery, he infused his sword with the elemental force of wind, merging it seamlessly with his blade. A crescent wind air slicer materialized from his sword, a shimmering arc of compressed air. The Tower Master's eyes widened in surprise and alarm as the blade of wind struck him, leaving a clean cut across his chest.
"I give this name," Kaiser declared, his voice echoing with newfound confidence, "the Wind Slices the Sword."
Kaiser took the back stance again, his sorcery now a palpable presence around him. "Try to come and stop me," he challenged, his gaze piercing.
The Tower Master, recovering from the unexpected strike, stood up straight. A look of profound respect settled on his face. "I admit defeat," he stated, his voice clear and resonant.
Kaiser was surprised, but an exhilarating rush of excitement coursed through him. He had done it. He had created a new sword technique, a verse that was uniquely his own.
The Tower Master then approached Kaiser, his gaze still filled with admiration. "This verse can become a strong verse in your arsenal," he began, "however, it still lacks one important thing."
"What does it lack?" Kaiser asked, eager to learn.
"It lacks range," the Tower Master explained. "Despite its sharpness, it has a very small range. If you could increase its range, you could kill enemies who would be far beyond your reach, which is every swordsman's dream."
"Yes, Tower Master," Kaiser replied, his mind already churning with possibilities. "I will train in it."
As Kaiser left, the Tower Master's voice resounded through the floor. "Even though you took the longest to clear the tower, you made the strongest move."