Red frowned. “I thought I already agreed to it earlier.”

Domeron snorted. “I was just asking it for dramatic effect, kid. Either way, there are a couple of things we need to establish before we move on.” the man swung his sword in the air. “First, this ‘assassination course’ doesn’t replace your combat training. Although a lot of the skills you learn in both practices are interchangeable, you can’t really abandon one in favor of the other. After all, an assassin should still know how to fight.”

“Does that mean I now have double the work?” the boy asked.

“Indeed.” the swordsman nodded. “Combat training in the daylight and assassin training at night. Why? Do you think it’s too much for you?”

“I’m not worried about the effort required.” Red shook his head. “I’m just worried if I will have enough time in the day to attend all my practices.”

“I’m sure you will settle into a rhythm eventually.” Domeron shrugged. “Once you grasp initial proficiency in these skills, you will notice that improving in them becomes much more difficult and just hard work won’t suffice. By then, you will just need to make sure you don’t get rusty.”

“Is that why you’re always lazing about?” Red asked.

Domeron ignored him and turned around to face the wooden dummy. “Now, let me show you the principle of this assassination art.”

The man twirled his sword around in his hand before putting it into a reverse grip with the blade flat against his extended arm. He brought his legs together and stood straight as a ramrod, setting his arm down on his sides and staring directly at the wooden dummy from three meters away.

His posture looked strange to Red, and rather than looking ready to kill, Domeron looked as if he was a soldier paying his respects to his superior.

“In assassination, you never want to give your hand away too early. This is why your combat stance needs to be subtle, so as not to raise any alarm on your target. ”the man seemed to be able to read his thoughts. “Of course, this is assuming it is a broad-daylight assassination. If you’re doing it in the shadows, then you need not worry so much. It’s still good practice, though.”

“Can you even gather any power in that stance?”

Red was skeptical. He couldn’t imagine how someone could manifest enough strength and speed behind their blow to kill in one hit with that posture, much more so from that far.

Domeron smiled. “This is where the heron weapon arts come in.”

Suddenly, the man exploded into movement. Before Red even noticed what was happening, he heard the impact of wood hitting against wood. Splinters flew everywhere as Domeron’s practice weapon exploded against the wooden dummy. The training device also had a huge chunk of wood missing off its chest from the aftermath.

Red’s gaze wandered back to Domeron in shock. The man’s body was almost parallel to the ground as he had stretched his whole frame forward, front leg left bent as support while his back outstretched leg was almost touching the sand floor. Domeron’s upper body was bent forward over his left knee as his arm stretched upwards in the wooden dummy’s direction, holding onto what remained of his sword.

The man’s whole body seemed taut as a bowstring, and he held that position for a few seconds for Red to observe it. Finally, he relaxed, standing back up.

He looked at Red with a grin. “How about it?”

“How did you do that?” the boy asked in a daze.

The speed at which the swordsman moved, the power behind his blow, and all from that strange position. Even with all his experience, Red had yet to see someone with twelve open veins capable of such a feat - not even Viran.

Domeron seemed satisfied with the boy’s reverence. “This is the wonders of martial arts, kid. It gathers the potential within one’s physical body and releases it all in a myriad of ways for a myriad of reasons. It requires skill, physical conditioning, and the right mental state.”

“And you can do all that without Spiritual Energy?”

“Well, you can do part of it.” the man shrugged. “You can think of Spiritual Energy as that one thing that unlocks the true potential behind these arts, but even without it, you can still do a lot. If you can master a proper martial art before opening your Spiritual Sea, you will stand head and shoulders above other cultivators at your level.”

“I assumed you mastered swordsmanship then.” Red stared at the ruined sword in the man’s hand.

Domeron laughed. “What gave you that impression?”

“Well, you seem really skilled with a sw-”

“That was a rhetorical question.” the man cut him off. “But yes, I have reached the level of mastery with the longsword. It’s something a lot of cultivators at the Lesser Ring Realm can’t claim to have done… Then again, I don’t think I have the right to be proud, considering they can still kill me with a wave of their hand.”

Red recalled a similar conversation he had with Rog while the two of them were out hunting. The boy was still curious to hear Domeron’s thoughts on the subject, though.

“Who else in the sect has reached that level?”

“Rog is the best archer I have ever seen in my life.” Domeron said. “Likewise, Goulth is also the best blacksmith I have ever seen. Hector is a master of water spells, too, but that’s beyond my purview. As for the others, none of them are close to that level. Maybe Eiwin is the closest with her monk fist, or whatever she calls it, but she still has a long way to go.”

“And you think I can do it before opening my Spiritual Sea?” Red frowned.

“Who knows?” the man shrugged. “It depends equal parts on your hard work and talent.”

“I see.” the boy nodded. “Then, can you teach me about this heron’s art?”

“It’s called Tranquil Beak Weapon Arts.” Domeron said.

“Tranquil Beak? Are you sure this is an assassination art?”

The man smiled. “What, did you expect them to name it ‘The Ruthless Assassination Weapon Art’? That’s more of a devilish name. Orthodox sects like to put pretty names on things, no matter how evil and violent those things may be.”

Red recalled the name of the cultivation art the hawk spirit had given him. Perhaps Domeron had a point.

“Either way, we can start with our lesson.” the man looked at Red with a serious expression. “First, you need to think like a heron.”

The boy frowned. “Really?”

Domeron laughed. “I’m just joking. That’s a more advanced chapter of this art.”

In the end, Red still wasn’t sure whether or not he was serious.

…

Two hours passed before Domeron called their practice to an end.

The man had explained to Red the initial posture of the Tranquil Beak Weapon Art, and how dozens of different attacks in the art all began from this same strange stance. The boy tried to replicate the posture, but it turned out to be harder than he had been expecting.

Even by copying Domeron’s movements perfectly, Red could not conjure up any significant power behind his blows. The man explained that the trick was in tensing his muscles in a certain way, and even gave a thorough explanation of how to do it to the boy. Still, this seemed to be beyond Red’s reach as of yet, but he wasn’t too worried.

If it was easy to master, was there any point in practicing it in the first place?

Finally, when the training was over, Domeron asked him a question out of nowhere.

“Have you chosen a weapon?”

Red shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Why not just go with a longsword?” the man said. “It’s the only weapon I have mastered anyway, so it will make our training much easier.”

“Do I need to use a sword for this weapon art?”

“Not really.” Domeron shook his head. “Anything with a pointy end and that doesn’t stand out too much will work. As it turns out, though, that mostly involves swords and daggers.”

Indeed, Red couldn’t imagine a discreet assassin carrying a spear around.

“Do I need to pick a weapon soon?” the boy asked.

“Hector would say the sooner the better, but as a responsible teacher, I say you shouldn’t rush it. It might delay our training a bit, but when it comes to cultivation, no decision should be made in a rush.”

Red nodded. “I understand. I will speak with Goulth. He might be able to help me choose.”

“Good idea.” Domeron nodded. “Now go to sleep. The sun will be rising in a couple of hours and I imagine you must be tired from the trials and all the training.”

Red nodded and left the field. He was indeed tired, but in reality, he wasn’t as spent as he expected. Another side-effect of the mist, or so he thought.

‘Speaking of the mist…’

As soon as Red returned to his room, he sat cross-legged on his bed and entered into a meditative state. Domeron had interrupted the boy right after he woke up, so he didn’t have the time to check on the mist’s condition after he left the dream world.

His awareness expanded, and he quickly noticed the crimson tendrils extending to every corner of his body.

‘It’s still here.’

Indeed, the disappearance of the mist from his body only seemed to count in the dream world. Not even the cut the boy made on his palm had transmitted to the real world, so it was safe to say that as real as that dreamscape felt, nothing that happened there was capable of being transmitted to his body.

Or so he hoped. He still remembered the hawk’s advice.

Out of habit, Red reached towards the mist, hoping for a response. To his surprise, the entity stirred once his awareness touched it, breaking its silence since he had left the trial. Their communication was nothing more than a jumbled mess of feelings and emotions, but the boy could still grasp what the mist was trying to say.

It was afraid.

‘No, not just afraid.’

It was terrified.

Something had happened to it, and perhaps it had to do with what that sensation of dread Red felt once he left his dream. The boy almost felt compelled to search his memories again, but he thought better of it.

Instead, he tried to use his awareness to communicate back with the mist.

He tried to convey one feeling - safety.

Eventually, his message seemed to get across as the entity calmed down and returned to its silence. Red let out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but be worried about his immediate future.

How was he supposed to deal with a problem he couldn’t even think about?

‘I have to remain steady in my path. A way forward will eventually reveal itself as long as I seek it.’

The boy tried to comfort himself this time around, but these were his true thoughts. Since he had won the trial, Red didn’t entertain doubt any longer.

This was his path, and no matter how many difficulties he came across, he would not be toppled by them. Even if he wasn’t aware of what the danger was.

With such thoughts, Red eventually went back to sleep.