There was no sound in the Oshawa warehouse’s air when Gale swung the blade over and over again. Only his occasional steps could be heard whenever he needed to propel off a stationary object.

Swing, spin, translate to spear. Thrust, sweep, inwards, translate to sword.

That was the first form of Dainv Sword Arts that Guide had taught him. Powerlessness wasn’t an option. For the past few weeks, he’d been able to do nothing to help himself get out of a shitty situation. He couldn’t even do anything against that homeless person last night.

There were only three rules in the forest. Hunt, eat, sleep, and repeat. That was all there was to it. Over here in the concrete jungles, there were things he couldn’t just slash or hack away. There were many things he couldn’t get through the thrill of the hunt.

Money.

Without it, he couldn’t survive. He had to be handed a stipend by the Path every two weeks just to eat. Shelter was also given to him. No luxuries for the normal kids that could live with and be given everything by their parents.

He was lost, and there was only one thing he could rely on. The Dainv Origin System.

Another spin into a spear. An upwards thrust and then inwards into the sword. The perfect cut didn’t make a sound.

Gale entered a trance, focusing on practicing the two distinct forms as if they were one. The new pathways made the flow smoother than before, expanding preferred paths into multiple different inputs instead of the strict limitations of the previous default settings. Each pathway was already carved into his memory from the experience of having to move each one in his body, one by one.

He stopped, taking a deep breath. In one sudden movement, he repeated the first form of Dainv Sword Arts again.

A micro-stutter always appeared after the swing and the translation process of sword to spear.

‘Again,’ he imagined the knight saying.

He stopped. Movement repeated. Swing, spin, and translate. Again, the micro-stutter when changing forms. But it didn’t make sense. He was inputting the essence at the exact timing key it needed.

Before he started the movement again, the sword extended to a spear. Thrust, sweep, spin. And just as he translated it into a sword, the stutter occurred and Gale spun to a stop, pausing the sequence.

“Shit!” he shouted. Clenching his fist, he punched straight down to the concrete but stopped just before he hit the floor.

Wait. Why did he call it a translation in the first place? There was no need to translate if the form was one and the same. There was no difference between spear and sword.

Do not think like a human. The knight did say that. Multiple times. And what was he doing? Translation is for the human mind. He could will the form to be one. Stop thinking that the two skills are any different. They’re the same skill set.

He cut through the air again. No whistle, just pure silence. A dull headache began to form in the back of his head.

The sword extended again. It reached twice as long as his own body. Alter the weapon. Not the Weber Blade.

He shifted, spinning the sword as if it were a spear. The circuits pulsed faster as he spun and then contracted back into a sword. He thrust again into the air, each stab seemingly reaching further than the sword could naturally reach.

Gale stopped as sweat dripped down his back despite the cold October air. It wasn’t enough.

He tried again. No longer thinking of any translation. When he needed reach, he just let the sword reach. When he needed space, he took space. However, the two styles remained separate, like oil and water.

Hours passed. More marks carved the floor and concrete pillars of the warehouse. The only thing that kept track of time was the ray of moonlight changing position as it shone through the bullet holes.

And then, something clicked. He didn’t know which nth time it was, but the Weber Blade no longer appeared as a sword or a spear. The essence finally connected to the sword, acting like part of his arm.

One moment it was a sword, intended for a slash. The next, it extended into a spear’s reach without losing the sword’s cutting edge. The transitions happened faster than thought. It happened before even intent.

Suddenly, the dull headache strengthened in waves. The knowledge hit him like a flood. Information streamed into his brain, filling gaps he didn’t know existed. Everything his father had taught him about weapons suddenly came back. The forms they practiced with sword and spear. The young hands that already had thick blisters from holding a rough stick.

[Dainv Sword Arts – Removed]

[Dainv Spear Arts – Removed]

[Dainv Combat Mastery Lv. 1 – Unlocked]

The notifications barely registered. Gale moved through the forms that felt new and familiar. The weapon in his hand changed through his will. Essence pathways from his hand extended beyond his arm, connecting the sword with his Origin Core.

The blade cut through the air silently again, leaving a trail of afterimages. His movement became continuous.

Swing, spin, thrust, sweep, in-fight. The fat from the first form was removed. The micro-stutter was removed. His movements began to resemble the knight’s in the throne room.

But even when his hands hurt, the drills his father gave him were fun. Imitating the forms of animals during sword practice. One day it would be a deer, the next a rabbit, and then after would be a crane or a tiger. Though, he never really did see a tiger in person.

Dad would always say that this was a secret from mom and from anyone outside their family.

A grin appeared on Gale’s lips. Dad would say it’s weird for a boy and a man to act like a bear, a tiger, a deer, a bunny, or any other animal. Of course it was. Blend in, right Dad?

His body launched into a spinning swing onto a shipping container, and the blade sliced smoothly through the metal like butter. The stack of containers fell onto the concrete, throwing up a dust cloud.

The author’s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

It wasn’t enough.

Something like this was probably easy for the Aurians that lived their whole lives in this world. He couldn’t even stand up against the homeless person in front of the McDs.

What would Rachel or Ollie think of their nightmare demon now? Just as the knight said. Pathetic.

Power mattered. Real power. The kind that came from extracting Origin. All of this was just practice.

As his breathing steadied, something caught his eye from his surroundings. Trace signatures of energy, too small to count as essence.

“Guide, what is this?”

[Trace Ether signatures detected.]

Gale pressed his palm against the cold concrete where some stray bullet holes were. He hadn’t realized this was here before. He was too immersed in his own training and had dismissed the tiny signatures when he first got here. He had examined it before, though barely. Oshawa was known for shady things, and now this shady thing was related to Aur.

Now that he thought about it, the analysis skill that Vianne had given him had allowed him to see hints of what happened in the fight in the meadows. That was without the Guide.

“Guide, if you can control my motor skills, can you use some of my skills too?”

A ten-second silence stretched, but before he could repeat his sentence, Guide responded.

[Functionality limited to Analyze by Amazing Vianne. Increase Core Class to expand functionality.]

Again with the stupid ‘increase core class’ to do this and that and whatever! He sighed. “Okay, analyze and project the conflict onto my HUD.”

The first death played out before him, showing him outlines of the conflict. A guard stood by the crates, their outlines marked by a lingering ether emission. A curved shot struck them from around the corner as the bullet traced around the crates. The body fell, and the outline stayed still on the concrete. A figure moved through with its rifle pointed up at where he moved.

“Identify the weapon type.”

[Weapon analysis: Custom low-level rifle. Modifications include handling multiple ammunition types. Ammunition used in conflict designed for maximum penetration and artificed with trajectory control.]

“Continue sequence.”

The figure took cover behind a shipping container as more guards closed in. One shot, and the trajectory showed how one round had passed through the first target before curving to the second.

Moving through the warehouse, the figure moved low. Four guards converged, moving in a single file, barrels pointed at possible hiding spots.

“Assess tactical level.”

[Combat expertise: Exceptional. Movement patterns indicate extensive training. Weapon handling suggests years of experience. Target prioritization optimal.]

The sequence continued. The figure dropped onto a knee, and a flash of ether homed in on the leftmost guard. They scattered. One ducked behind a shipping container, and the third and fourth ran opposite ways to their own cover behind concrete barriers.

Two shots homed in on the targets running away before they could drop to the barrier. Another shot went up at an angle and slammed straight down through the bullet hole where the second guard had taken cover behind the shipping container.

The figure moved again, and this time it was toward the broken wall he saw before. The metal still had traces of ether. Five distinct ether bodies, too. Three from the collapsed wall and two that held onto the railing of the catwalk.

Beside the broken wall was an exit. Gale walked out and into the next warehouse. If he recalled correctly, the office in that warehouse had been cleaned thoroughly with bleach.

Opening the door to the office, the scent of bleach no longer lingered. However, the walls remembered what happened. Traces of ether couldn’t be cleaned.

Two men were inside what looked like a panic room. A desk and chair had fallen over. A shattered window was behind the chair. A single shot from a different weapon, something long-range. Someone else had taken that shot, not the same figure from the beginning.

“Compare the two shooter signatures.”

[Analysis complete. Primary shooter: close-range specialist. Heavily modified Ether armaments. Secondary shooter: long-range expert. Rifle used, unknown. Professional training patterns detected in both.]

The second shooter shot through the head of the one in the chair. A second shot was fired immediately after, wounding the primary figure on the shoulder according to the trajectory in the wall and the height of the primary.

The height was oddly short, almost half a head shorter than him. A predator built for speed and stealth, not brute force. Harder to track, harder to hit.

He traced his fingers along the bullet’s path through the air, following the fading ether signature. The sniper’s shot had come from far away. His eyes followed the trajectory upward, through the broken window, across the industrial district.

“Guide, calculate firing position.”

[Analysis: Shot trajectory indicates origin point at Building 172, block C, Southwest Industrial Complex. Distance: 1450 metres. Requires specialized equipment and skill.]

Decision made.

Wind whipped at his jacket as he moved through the shadows between warehouses. The night air carried the scent of metal and oil from the industrial complex.

A chain-link fence blocked his path. Gale didn’t break stride. Phase Touch activated, spreading through his whole body and clothes. He passed through the metal like it wasn’t there.

[Alert: Multiple security systems detected. Infrared coverage: extensive.]

Cameras swept the area in regular patterns. Gale layered Distort over his skin and clothes, vanishing from sight. The effect rippled like heat waves as he moved.

Building 172 was in front of him. Four stories tall, with catwalks crisscrossing the upper levels.

Gale slipped through the partially hung loading dock door. Before he took a step, he removed his shoes and put them in his backpack. He proceeded, his steps completely silent.

Boxes and barrels filled the warehouse interior. The air smelled of machine oil and gunpowder. However, there was a faint feeling of something else that was familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Fresh ether signatures lined the walls. Someone was here, and they weren’t hiding their presence.

As he continued through the aisle, he noticed the labels in big, bold printed text.

“GLORY INDUSTRIES – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.”

That didn’t sound like any of the companies he knew. At least not in the mundane world.

Before he continued walking, he stopped. Saw the catwalk ladder was just at the corner. He climbed as quietly as he could to not make a sound.

[Alert: Live signatures above. Two combatants detected. Host is recommended to stay silent. Threat Level: Moderate.]

Can I still interact with you if I do this? Gale mouthed the words silently.

[Affirmative]

Gale nodded satisfied by the answer and continued to climb until he reached the top level of the catwalk. It went left, mid, and right above all the storage containers and aisle shelves. Perfect sightlines to multiple parts of the warehouse, and from this view, the whole layout of the maze of aisles unraveled itself.

Security, maybe.

He went right, following the small trace of signatures of someone walking along the catwalk. It led to a corner position, partially hidden behind vents.

Walking along the catwalk, he found himself beside a small box enclosure that looked like a small office.

His eye caught something, and he froze immediately, not daring to move an inch. Something had moved in his peripheral vision. Distort wasn’t truly invisible unless he didn’t move. All it did was distort light, which made the air ripple like heat waves.

Slowly, he turned his head to where he caught the movement. Two men in black suits stood on a parallel catwalk thirty feet away. They faced the open warehouse space below. Neither spoke.

The ether signature they emitted was as strong as Emmerson’s. He couldn’t take both of them at once. Maybe one.

[Combatant ether levels are equal to Attuned. Threat level: moderate.]

Attuned? That was the same level as the shadow.

A single drop of sweat dripped down from his forehead. Why was he even here in the first place? He was only looking for power, and now curiosity was going to get him killed.

One of the men tilted his head slightly.

Gale didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

The second man reached inside his jacket.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep