“Just like the Sylvani are the kin of pure blooded Illvari, so are Djy'veli to Fiendfolk. Like their parents, they have a generous amount of magic, especially of the Nox variety. Records of the Fiend Wars are few and far between. However, it is beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was the genesis of some of the younger races that exist today…” excerpt by Valerith Quillworth in his book; An Exposition on the Genesis of Races and Places.

Three days after he'd thought himself recovered enough to do extraneous activities, Arthur decided to change pace. On said day, he rose with the sun at the crack of Eryth's dawn. In lieu of the usual intellectual routine in the study, Arthur found himself in the training grounds.

As he held a plank position for however long he could, his muscles groaned under the bulk of his body . His out of sync watch found use once more as he used it to gauge his endurance.

He'd been holding the position for a while now. According to his watch's timer, one hour had already elapsed. Sweat was beading on his brow as he pursed his lips and exhaled through clenched teeth.

His eyes were shut in concentration, but some of the perspiration made its way inside and stung his eyes. But that was inconsequential compared to his muscles screaming from an inundation of lactic acid.Water vapour rose from his bare back, condensing in the dayspring’s air as his body continued to warm up from the exertion.

‘Whelp, that confirms it. Regeneration does not prevent muscle cramps,’ he mused.

The grimace on his face broke when he heard the crunching of footsteps on the training yard’s sandy ground. A pale pair of limber, barefooted legs came into his field of vision as he blinked away the sweat.

“What are you doing?” said the owner of the legs. She crouched down to his eye level. “ Is this some sort of self-mortification?”

“No,” Arthur snorted, exhaling a puff of mist as he released his form” I don't get my kicks from putting myself in pain, ”

He squatted, hands on his knees as he regarded the originator of the voice. “ I'm trying to exercise to see how far I can push this body, “ he sighed.

“I have to train my strength, because without fine control, I'll break anything I touch. I can’t do delicate enchanting work like this,” he said as he flexed his dominant arm.

“ Speaking of strength, can you teach me how to fight?”

“Ho? What would you have me teach you?,” the draconic woman said, tilting her head in amusement.

Scratching an itch at the back of his neck, Arthur replied, “How about swordsmanship?”

“ If I had a Class I'd be a [Mage] not a [Warrior].” Aeskyre sniffed with contempt. ” Hmm, however, I have not lived as long as I have without learning a thing or two. I will impart to you the basics, little they might be.”

“I'd really appreciate that,” Arthur said as he drew himself to his full height.

“Before we begin, I need to see your spells. Depending on what you have, you might want to complement your sword fighting style. Who knows, you could even become a [Spell Blade].”

“Eh, okay. I'll leave it to your discretion, “ Arthur shrugged. “ I should let you know that my classes were consolidated. I am now a [Magitech Crafter]. I have no idea why I levelled, but I lost most of my skills. ”

“Is that so? Are you sure you haven’t tried using them after your recovery? ”

“Short of doing this,” said Arthur as he wreathed his arm in lightning. “I have yet to try out anything.”

“Oh, interesting. [Fulgor Mastery]? Aeskyre’s brows rose in interest. “That might help you learn unique skills.”

“Huh?! I didn’t know that. I have [Aer Mastery] too. I’m yet to see what it does,” he replied sheepishly.

“Remember when I told you to learn spells without overreliance on the World?” Aeskyre pointed out, Arthur nodded. “That method of learning has its benefits. Besides larger rewards like a chance of acquiring a [Mastery] skill, it also means that your body will always remember how to cast the spells by instinct. “

“Even when you lose your class to a consolidation, your spellcasting is not adversely affected. Those who depend on the World to cast their spells or use their skills have to relearn their old spells from scratch after class consolidations.”

“What happens during a Class consolidation?” Arthur asked as he furrowed his brow.

Brushing the sand off the hem of her dress, Aeskyre stood and regarded Arthur, “During class consolidations, you will lose two compatible classes, then get a new class. The World will also allocate you a new level that is slightly lower than your highest class level.

“Oh, that’s why my [Magitech Crafter] is level 13,” Arthur opined.

“When you get an advanced version of a preexisting skill, the less powerful one will be lost. Whilst when you gain powerful skills different from your old ones, they are retained in your skill set,” she said, arms akimbo.

“Now then, let's not dawdle; get creative. ”

“Alright then,” Arthur said, rising from the ground. He dusted off his pants and faced the training dummies that stood at the end of the training field.

He held out a hand as if grabbing something from the air, and lightning coalesced around his arm. His right arm was more resilient to his own magic . He could feel the lightning writhe on the surface of his skin with a feeling not dissimilar from an E-stim.

Arthur concentrated and funnelled the lightning to his palm to form an amorphous sphere which spun around like a pulsar as stray bolts lapped at the air. He took a javelin thrower’s stance and pitched the chaotic ball of energy towards his target.

It went sailing through the air in a parabolic curve, twenty paces, thirty...forty, lost cohesion and grounded itself at fifty paces leaving a circle of glazed sand. It didn’t even beat the range of his last cast of [Spark Bolt]

“Hmph, what a brutish spell!“ the draconic woman sniffed. “ You cannot tame lightning like air or water.”

“I was just trying out a new idea I had. I thought magic spits in the face of physics, that’s all.” Arthur smiled wryly.

“You are a couple of centuries too young [Lost Worlder]. Please take this seriously, ” Aeskyre stressed, her arms folded under her bosom.

Arthur nodded and started from the basics—using his old spells. Well not really that old considering he hadn’t used them for a long time. True to Aeskyre’s word, the spells were just sitting in his core waiting to be used. Their matrices were almost faint as if they would disappear at the smallest prod of his mind.

He went through the motions of casting them to get a feel for whether they’d changed after acquiring mastery over two of his affinities. Locus remained untouched but he had a better grasp over the limit of his [Inventory Chest] skill.

The reference materials were rather obscure on the measurements, but they seemed to vary from person to person. That said, his change seemed to have made it easier to discern its volume. It was the size of a small van; 3.5 by 1.75 by 1.9 if his guess was right. The ephemeral space was hard to hold in his mind for long but 11637.5 litres (aums) of space was generous.

Most of the references of Locus mentioned variations of it existed from [Inventory Pocket] common among scholars and small peddlers to [Inventory Chest] for merchants and money changers. In rare cases even pirates had it. [Inventory Vault] was something a [Banker] or a Majordomo from a Titled house would have access to. After that, Inventory skills started taking on a myriad of forms which were dependent on their user. Regardless, they were rather dodgy on the exact measurements.

Satisfied that the older iterations of his spells were there, he moved on to the consolidated versions of them. First, he cast [Gust Shield]. The spell formed gusts of wind that encircled him. The spell looked like it could deflect arrows and other mundane projectiles without even trying.

Arthur had no idea how skill-empowered projectiles would fare but he was not just going to be a sitting duck while someone took potshots at him. Had he managed to cast it in time during the explosion, it would have deflected the shrapnel that maimed him. [Gale] wouldn't have saved him even if he’d cast it in time.

Next, he cast [Thunder Bolt]. That it was more powerful than [Spark Bolt] was an understatement. If it had recoil, he would have been knocked on his ass from his whimsical stance. As far as lightning-based attacks went, its devastation spoke for itself.

Not only did its range double against [Spark Bolt]'s matrix cast 45 metres but it managed to outrightly punch through a dummy and leave a smoking divot the size of his fist. Against a mundane human, that would be as lethal as a third-degree burn and could mean an instant-kill.

The downside was that he could tell it took something out of his mana pool. He could maybe cast it 7 times before he had to catch his breath. By rule of thumb, it was 3 times more powerful than [Spark Bolt] which he could cast 21 times without getting winded before his awakening as a [Dragon Scion]. If a multiplier formula existed somewhere, he had no idea.

“Great, about time then. I was getting bored of watching you,” said Aeskyre with a clap of her hands. “I think it’s passable. You have enough bite to hold your own scant your repertoire may be. ”

‘Hard to please as ever,’ Arthur sighed.

“Nothing to add at all?” Arthur replied looking at the divots and gouges disfiguring the sand as well as the maimed training dummy at the target area. The wards would always clean up the mess overnight; magic was convenient that way.

“I think your mastery skills have passed the bounds of what I can teach you. You can even go toe to toe with a level 20 [Mage] in a scrap and come out on top if you catch them by surprise . However, I should warn you, lack of experience will not cover for your strength; temper your pride and temper your body too.

As if remembering something, she perked up, “ I would also recommend that you learn as many cantrips as you can, like [Light] and [Aqua] for times they might be necessary.”

Aeskyre appeared to contemplate for a moment and then added, “ Thus far you have already demonstrated that you have ranged attacks and defences against them as well. Now to fill the gaps for when someone breaches past those defences; that brings us to close combat— swordcraft.”

She looked at the racks of weapons sitting on the racks gathering dust; a variety of swords and polearms; the occasional war hammer and axe; and all types of shields, from bucklers to tower shields.

Flexing her magic, she willed a couple of swords to fly to her. Some of them looked unwieldy and would not have looked out of place in a giant’s hands. Even so, she plucked a bastard sword and held it in one hand like it weighed nothing. It was as long as she was tall and as thick as her wrist at the fuller. It should have snapped the dainty woman’s hand, instead it defied gravity as she spun it around like a plastic prop.

“Judging from your increase in strength, I am of the mind to give you a bastard sword or a claymore but bah, it’s not elegant,” she scoffed. Arthur blanched; the damn thing must have weighed at least 5 aums. Instead of tapering, its point flared outwards and then curved as if someone weld an axe-head to a sword. The wide fuller had a motif of edgy artwork and was darker than the silverish edge of the blade. It screamed metal and dark souls.

“Swords are an extension of their wielder. This—,” she plunged the weapon, burying it halfway into the ground, “Is a barbarian’s weapon. It does not require finesse, only unfettered strength.”

She walked around the impaled sword and plucked another weapon out of the air. This one was modest in size and had a two-handed hilt. She held it horizontally by the blade like a smith would appraise their creation and offered it to Arthur.

Arthur received the sword, tested its grip and looked to Aeskyre who took that as a query. “That right there, is a longsword. It’s obviously two-handed and has a long reach. With your strength, it shouldn’t throw you off. It is a staple of swordsmen who are balanced in terms of strength and movement,”

“You speak from experience…” Arthur murmured as he scrutinised the sword.

“Of course, I have bested many foes who wished to covet my hoard,” her eyes twinkled impishly.

By his estimates, the longsword was at most 1.5 metra long. It was practical when you were fighting things bigger than you—Eryth obviously had those in buckets. Out of the swords picked, this one had parrying hooks like it had a German greatsword for a cousin. It was a little longer than an arming sword used by guardsmen, and by its heft, it must have weighed anything between 1 to 2 aums. And it wasn’t even the real thing. It was just the practice version made of very sturdy wood polished and varnished to look like an actual blade with a metallic core to give it heft.

There was no way Aeskyre would let him handle the real thing lest he lose his fingers. Therefore, the practice weapon came with blunted edges. It bore the scars of frequent use from long ago, perhaps when the original inhabitants of the keep were still alive. Arthur chalked up the wood’s durability to magic; no mundane piece of wood would last that long when exposed to the vagaries of time and weather.

“Get into form. I want to see how much work we’ll have to do with you,” Aeskyre prompted.

With no prior experience to draw from, Arthur did his best impression of the swordsman's stance. While his form was good and his muscles remembered training in some other bladed weapon, it was ill suited to the two-handed sword he was holding.

It aggravated him that his muscles were doing something his mind should have done. His impromptu swordsmanship instructor walked around him like a drill sergeant inspecting a grunt. Her eyes moved from his face, to his biceps, the grip of his sword and then to his feet. And she had words to say about it.

“Your stance is egregious, your feet are too wide apart, and you’d sooner trip over yourself if you backpedalled” She took a step back tapping the right side of her temple and sized him up again and then added, “A sword is not a dagger. You’re holding it too far away from your body and that puts your centre of gravity outside your core. Also your shoulders are too tense, here let me show you,” she neared and adjusted his shoulders from the back.

The dragon passed her hands all over his forearm, poking and prodding at his muscles and adjusting his hold on the sword accordingly. Arthur could feel goosebumps rippling across his skin, like his body instinctively knew the dragon’s aura was close.

Aeskyre had an aura like an electric serpent that could lash at the slightest provocation. It was there, oppressive, like the weight of cumulonimbus cracking at the back of his neck. A focused Aeskyre was truly a different predator―and he’d done gone and asked her to teach him how to fight.

“Don't clench your hands too hard, it makes the riposting too stiff,” she tapped his palm, startling him from his reverie. He hadn't even realized he’d clenched the sword so hard he could feel the hilt groan. Arthur breathed through his teeth as he adjusted his grip.

“Good,” Aeskyre said as she stood back, examining him. She took another wooden long sword from the levitating collection and sent the rest flying to the weapon racks.

Taking up a similar stance she said,” There are several schools of swordcraft; Kolasi, Nero, Vel, Erde, Lys, Noct and Varuus. Each one was created for a respective affinity, except for Aet of course. “ Aeskyre said, looking askance to see if the youth was following. Arthur was still holding the stance, intuiting that was what the woman wanted of him

“ The Kolasi school is aggressive and offensive in nature, due to fire’s predisposition to want to dominate. Nero is passive and smooth, flowing from one form to the other, Erde is for guardians or vaguards. It is passive and defensive for Guardians and offensive for Vaguards; it is a favoured school for most guardsmen because it exemplifies stability,”

“ I shall skip over the Noct and Lys swordcraft. Nonetheless, you can look them up in your own time if you do find material on the Knights of the Even Tide and Dawn Break,” she said, pursing her lips in thought. Arthur felt like his muscles would start cramping any time from then. “ Finally, Velkyr swordcraft. It is as swift as it is balanced and is made to switch from offensive to defensive or to a neutral stance that does not betray the fighter’s intent.”

“It is the staple of those who have strength, speed and cunning. It was made with the sole purpose of putting down your enemy as fast as possible, to deal the most damage before they even have a chance to react; to pull back before they even think of responding in kind and stall them into indecision of where the next will come from. That is the nature of wind,” At that point, Arthur’s biceps and calves were burning.

“ Each swordcraft has Arts that cater to different classes of sword users, Velkyr is no different. To begin, I shall teach you the Gusting Swallows Sword Art and then, deeming you proficient, we shall advance to the Lightning Shrike Sword Art. I think, given your affinity those shall suffice,”