The Wheel Of Samsara 25 The Keeper Of Hell Ii

"I am." Nemeus answered as he also looked at the dagger.

"You'll send Jake to oversee the Promotion Compet.i.tion." It was not a request; it was an order. An order that Borgin could only obey. Nemeus continued, "I'll accompany him. It is about time we started teaching him what it truly means to be the inheritor of Master's legacy."

Borgin frowned hearing that, but couldn't disagree. Jake Meyer was the best candidate to be his successor. He had dazzling talent and a cool head. Even if his personality was a tad too gentle, this could be fixed over the years.

Borgin looked at the dagger in his hands. They finally reached the end of the trail, but only Nemeus knew what was there.

"Are these daggers so important?" Borgin asked, still unsure. "It is nothing more than danasian steel."

Hearing that, Nemeus shook his head. "It is not the daggers. It is who they belonged to."

Nemeus was almost completely sure that Amon Kressler had stumbled upon Alexei's corpse, wherever it was hidden. The Scavenging had finally paid off, even if after centuries.

The sword Old Lu described was awfully similar to the Brightmoon Nemeus knew. Still, there had been tens of thousands of cultivators in what came to be called the War of Falling Leaves. Nemeus couldn't be sure without seeing for himself. Even if Old Lu had remembered the ring Amon had in his finger at the time, Nemeus would have still treaded carefully. This was a very sensitive matter, after all.

"Who was it?" Borgin couldn't help but ask. It was a strange story. After one Scavenging, not only had Amon Kressler found two incredibly precious treasures, he also bought a suspiciously high number of manuals from the Divine Arts Palace.

Adding to that, after he bought the Skyreacher Body manual, it only took him a few more days to register his breakthrough, and the results had been astounding. He had been stuck at the initial stages of Qi Gathering for years, and now it looked like he turned into a genius overnight.

Whatever he found in the Scavenging was certainly not a trivial matter. Worst of all, Borgin would have never noticed that if Elder Li hadn't given him the daggers as a gift, sparking Nemeus' suspicions.

"It does not concern you." Nemeus' deep voice answered him, making Borgin's face twist.

"Even if I am the Sect Master?" Borgin tried to use his position to convince Nemeus, a very poor move, but there was not much else that he could do.

"What of it?" Not only did Nemeus not give in, he was also ruthless in his reb.u.t.tal. His scarlet eyes seemed to be ablaze as he faced Borgin coldly. "One word from me and you'll be crippled of your cultivation and banished."

"The only person that had the right to know about this was my Master, and now that he is gone it does not concern any of the living." He glared at Borgin with a savage look. This was the only warning he would give.

Borgin was silent hearing that. He knew Nemeus wasn't one to joke around. The truth was that no one knew about the secrets of the Abyss Sect as well as Nemeus did, and most likely, no one ever would.

"The Promotion Compet.i.tion will be held in six months." Nemeus said as if stating a fact. How Borgin would make it happen was his problem.

It should be time enough for Amon to develop further. Then he would be able to confirm his suspicions. "Make sure the news reach the boy."

After Nemeus said that, he dispersed into the air. Borgin had dark lines creasing his forehead, thinking deeply. This was certainly related to the war of four centuries ago, the problem was that not even he knew much of it.

The only ones that could have known what Nemeus was thinking were all dead, and they made sure to bury the past with them.

---

"Very good." Lya's voice echoed in Amon's head as he held the crude sword with his right hand. The sword was covered by a layer of light, and exuded a dangerous feeling.

"You managed to properly control the shape of the Qi you imbue into the weapon in only three days; it is not a bad result at all." Lya said.

Amon smiled hearing that, and the light on the sword subsided. Innumerable lines of light could be seen covering it, much more than the first time he managed to successfully imbue a weapon with Qi.

He had been training under Lya for more than a month now, and his progress was very satisfying.

Besides practicing imbuing his Qi in the sword, Amon also read the manuals on Sword Arts. Every time he finished one, Lya would make questions nonstop, measuring his comprehension. If he failed a single one, he was forced to read the manual again.

"Now you will imbue the sword as you execute the stances of the Fundamentals of the Sword." Lya ordered as she floated next to him.

Amon nodded. He easily lifted the sword that had been so heavy for him before. The lines of light reappeared on the blade, and soon it started s.h.i.+ning brightly. He slightly bent his knees and straightened his back. He raised his right hand and pointed the sword downwards, covering his upper body. With his left forearm, he supported the flat side of the blade.

This was one of the basic stances described on the Fundamentals of the Sword. Amon could defend from blows from most directions in this stance, and also attack quickly.

Lya approached him and moved her hand, making a stick lying on the ground to fly to her side. Lines of light started slithering through its surface, and soon the stick was glowing. Amon started sweating bullets as he saw that.

"Start the Soulrousing Technique." Lya said with a gentle smile that sent chills down Amon's spine.

He started reciting the runes of the first part of the Soulrousing Technique in his mind, s.h.i.+vering in fear.

"I'll give you a second to adjust what you think needs to be adjusted." Lya said in a sweet voice.

"d.a.m.n!" Amon thought to himself, trying his best to reposition his body in what he felt was a more accurate representation of the descriptions and ill.u.s.trations of the manual.

"Time is up!" Lya said as she slowly started circling around Amon, her eyes scrutinizing every inch of his body.

"You right knee is pointing outwards, your stance is a fail." She said as the stick cut the air, hitting his knee mercilessly.

"Ouch!" Amon shouted in pain, but held the stance. He sent Lya a resentful gaze as he corrected his knee.

"Your left arm is too relaxed. One strong strike and you will hit yourself with your sword as your arm gives in." The stick hit him in his left elbow, making it burn in pain. "Your elbow was also too flexed. Your stance is a fail."

Amon focused and corrected his stance again. Lya spend a few seconds looking at him carefully.

"Your stance is good." She said as she nodded. Amon sighed in relief.

"But your grip is too loose." The stick hit his right wrist and the sword flew from his hand, falling heavily on the floor with a 'clang'. "Your grip is a failure."

"You old hag!" Amon shouted as he held his wrist. It was red and was starting to swell. "That hurt!"

The Soulrousing Technique enhanced both his pain and his impulse in cursing at the one that hurt him. Amon was still far from dominating his emotions. The result was a terrible slip of the tongue.

Lya's face fell and a vein started popping in her forehead.

"Old hag?" She asked as a menacing aura started emanating from her.

Amon's face paled as he realized he made a grave mistake. His golden eyes shone with fear as he shuddered.

He tried to run away, but invisible ropes tightened around his body, immobilizing him as the stick started mercilessly hitting his whole body. He squirmed in pain and fell to the ground.

"Your manners are a failure." Lya said with a cold voice. "How dare you call me an old hag? I am merely a few cen…"

She stopped what she was going to say and gave a loud cough. "Cough, you can't say such things to a lady!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He cried pitifully as the stick kept hitting him.

"Hmpf. Start again!" Lya snorted as the stick flew back to her. Her blue eyes were ice-cold and she seemed greatly displeased.

Amon could only blame himself. He shook his head and recovered the sword from the floor, rea.s.suming the stance.

"Your grip is too tight." Lya said as the stick flew again, hitting his wrist a second time. Amon grunted and loosened his grip a bit. This time, he managed to endure in silence.

"A loose grip will be the fastest way for you to lose your weapon." Lya said in a serious tone. "A grip too tight is the fastest way for you to waste energy. Not only will your movements be stiff, your hand will tire more easily."

Amon nodded hearing her. Lya seemed to be satisfied as she commanded "First move!"

A whistling sound echoed through the room as the sword in Amon's hands cut the air in a horizontal swing from right to left, leaving a trail of light in its path. As the strike was finished, he held the sword in place, next to his waist and pointing backwards.

"Too slow and too low, start over." Lya said, using the stick to slight move Amon's arm upwards and showing him the correct height the strike should end at.

Amon took a deep breath and returned to his initial stance. This had been his life lately, reading manuals and training nonstop.

"You need to engrave the basics in your memory. Your stance must always be perfect, or your opponents will strike at your glaring openings." Lya said every day.

To Lya, Amon was nothing more than a beginner. He had never properly used a sword before, and his foundations were nonexistent. She had to help him build them from the ground up.

Still, this was a good thing. He had no bad habits and no set idea of what his style should be. Amon was a blank slate that she could paint with any color. That was a chance, not a problem.

Adding to that, his Soul Cultivation was also going well. Amon listened to every word she said, and followed her instructions with precision. His body was also close to ready to his next round of tempering.

Overall, Lya thought that things were going well. Soon enough it would be time for him to put what he was learning into practice, and completely absorb the knowledge he knew only in theory so far.

As she was thinking of this, a rare knock could be heard from the front door.