What a strange feeling.
He despised the idea of leading or becoming responsible for others. He hated the idea of chasing after the position of regiment leader, yet at this moment, there was nothing he wanted more.
He was all but forced to… no, he was forced to.
He hated it, yet he was compelled by the ways of this world.
Blight had gone twelve years ignoring the reality of his situation, but now he was facing it, and there was no escape.
If one could not gain strength and prove themself to the clan, they would not be given adequate guidance or resources. They would be tossed to the side and used for cannon fodder when their time came.
In this world, it seemed that power was thicker than everything, including blood.
For him, who was completely unrelated to these people, he could not count on even a drop of goodwill from anybody. He could only rely on himself.
What was the alternative? He couldn't think of one. He was stuck within the grasp of the Red Legion.
He felt some tension when he replayed the images of the others' fights.
Marsuu, Bernault, Eldrich, Ray, Yone, Blight could think of at least 5 people who were unbeatable to the current him, and there were sure to be many others.
In that case, he would be lucky to rank between 11 and 100, earning just a minuscule 5 ether fragments. How large was the gap between this and the chance to earn 100 fragments?
It was incomparable!
The gap between the strong and the weak would consistently grow, and eventually, it would become impossible for him to keep up.
He had many years of mandatory military service that he would have to complete . Could he survive like this?
The air was misty and cold. The training grounds were sparse. The trainees were still asleep in their rooms.
The first glimpse of light peaked through the horizon. Blight had a habit of waking at this time to see the sun rise every morning, but with the winter, it happened later every day.
He'd taken a short sword from the armoury, wanting to get in some practice before breakfast.
Throughout the night, he considered many different ways that he could rapidly increase his power.
The most important thing would be to master his use of [Gaze into the Abyss].
This was a massive undertaking, his first legacy ability which gave him the power to see two seconds into the future could be used in an infinite number of ways, there were so many different factors to consider and improve on.
While there was little he could do to improve when training by himself, he could still improve the little things. The parts that most people, including himself before, did not think about.
For example, during a basic sequence of attacks, he could use [Gaze into the Abyss] to monitor how the next two seconds would play out, then make adjustments in real time as required.
It wasn't about the strike itself. Anyone could hit a target if it just stood there.
But when he saw himself overextending, leaning too far forward or losing his center of gravity, he stopped and corrected his stance, ran it again, and adjusted until the movement felt right.
If his weight distribution was off, even slightly, he saw it in the way he recovered in the next second, slow, vulnerable, clumsy. So he would shift his feet, lower his center of mass, and do it again.
Sometimes, the future showed him landing a hit, but following through too far, leaving his side wide open. Other times, it was the angle of his swing, too shallow, not enough momentum, easy to deflect.
He wasn't just training to hit things. He was training not to fail after he did.
If he had bad posture, it would throw off the follow-up.
If he was out of rhythm, he'd hesitate on the second strike.
Even things like how his foot landed on slightly uneven ground — that could ruin everything. So he adjusted for that too. Again. And again.
The difference between a clean kill and a fatal mistake wasn't always power.
Sometimes, it was one inch of weight shift.
Or being one second too late to recover.
"Hey, I haven't seen you training this early before."
Blight heard a familiar voice behind him, and he turned. "Marsuu?"
"Good. Good."
Marsuu nodded a few times knowingly.
"I've been watching you for some time. That's really impressive, you know? Not many people can grasp and resolve their openings and mistakes so quickly."
Blight only shrugged.
"Care for a spar?"
"Of course," Blight replied.
Marsuu retrieved another short sword from the armoury
"Without your active abilities, otherwise I don't stand a chance."
Marsuu nodded. "Ready."
"Fight," Blight replied.
Both of their presences exploded as they reinforced themselves with ether and shot at each other, exchanging many strikes and blows.
Blight could see it all. Every shift in his weight. Every twitch in his fingers. Every angle before it was true. [Gaze into the Abyss] laid it out for him, again and again yet still, he was struggling.
Marsuu's every move was precise, clean and final, there was no hesitation or waste in them. Every time he moved, he did exactly what he aimed to.
But then it happened: Marsuu moved a little deeper than he should have, and Blight caught it.
Blight prepared his counter, stepping sideways, sliding underneath the strike, and sweeping his leg out low.
Marsuu stumped, and Blight envisioned himself actually winning against the unsurpassable mountain that was the person he was fighting with.
He moved to capitalise, but his footwork had deviated too far from what it should have been, he was too focused on the counterattack and did not realise his mistakes.
He stumbled, and the angle of his strike was slightly off, being deflected away. In a fluid motion Marsuu's blade stopped at his side.
Marsuu smirked. "That was good," and pointed his sword down.
"You have a very particular style of fighting."
He sat down, catching his breath. "It's strange. I've never been so helpless when trying to predict somebody else's moves, but it's like all of your movements are only feints, trying to grasp my own true motives."
Blight joined him, dropping to the ground.
"Yeah, I don't have any powerful abilities, so I've been working on my own style of fighting, focusing on outsmarting my opponent."
Marsuu laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "I've always thought that you are quite the interesting person, Blight."
"Your tactics are good. You only need to work on their execution."
He was well aware of his shortcomings.
Blight leaned back, placing his head onto the frosty grass, and gave a self-deprecating laugh. "All this training has made me so hungry. All I can think about is food."
Marsuu stood up, "There's still two hours until breakfast, let's continue. It's not so often that we have the entire training grounds to ourselves."