Chapter 134: Solomon and his Restlessness
Solomon peeled off his ruined spider-silk shirt and tossed the bloody fabric onto the floorboards. He needed to wash the dried dirt and gore from his skin.
The owl fluttered closer to capture a better angle of his scarred torso. He grabbed the bird by its wings and marched directly toward the small washroom attached to his quarters.
"You stay out here." Solomon shoved the drone into the main room and slammed the solid wooden door shut.
He stripped off his trousers and stepped under the running water of the spiritual showerhead. The scalding water washed the grime away and soothed his bruised knuckles.
[1Fizzy: we got locked out lol.]
[Fatal_Beauty: LET US IN!]
[User12: bro is actually shy.]
Solomon dried off and dressed in a fresh set of black combat trousers and a clean undershirt from his inventory. He stepped back into the bedroom and found the owl hovering patiently near the desk.
He looked out of the window and saw the sun was currently setting over the mountain peaks.
Several hours remained before the dining hall opened for dinner. The midnight duel with Pavilion Leader Jin sat even further away on the schedule. Sitting idle in a quiet room drove him entirely crazy.
He strapped Eden’s Penance securely to his back and pushed the wooden door open to step out into the stone corridor.
He navigated the winding pathways of the Sword Pavilion. The usual crowds of novice disciples had retreated to their dormitories to rest after the grueling day. He passed empty weapon racks and silent training rings.
The fading daylight cast long shadows across the polished cobblestones.
It was peaceful, and Solomon didn’t like that.
A few seconds walk later, he heard the sharp clack of wood striking wood echoed from a secluded courtyard. Solomon followed the noise and walked through a carved stone archway.
Marco Alfoy stood alone in the center of the dirt ring. The second-year student swung a wooden practice sword against a reinforced wooden dummy.
Sweat dripped from Marco’s peach-colored hair. He twisted his hips and executed a fierce diagonal strike. The wooden blade cracked loudly against the target. He reset his stance and immediately launched into another sequence of attacks.
"Your footing looks completely unbalanced." Solomon leaned against the stone archway and crossed his arms over his chest. "If I kicked your back knee right now, you would eat dirt."
Marco froze mid-swing and lowered his practice sword. He turned his head and locked eyes with the silver-haired first-year. The older boy wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
Solomon braced his boots against the cobblestones, fully preparing for a hostile reaction. He expected Marco to lash out with insults or yell about a novice minding his own business. The second-year disciples usually defended their pride aggressively.
Marco simply tightened his grip on his wooden sword. He pivoted on his front foot, dropped his hips lower, and executed the exact same diagonal strike again. The wooden blade sliced downward with noticeably improved stability.
Marco lowered the weapon and looked at Solomon, silently asking for an appraisal.
"That is definitely an improvement over the last attempt," Solomon nodded, walking closer to the dirt ring. "Your base held up much better through the follow-through."
Marco stepped away from the training dummy and wiped his brow. "What exactly am I doing wrong on the transition? I keep losing my balance whenever I try to chain the next sequence."
Solomon tapped the hilt of his executioner’s sword. "Correcting your stance is the job of your pavilion instructors. What are you even practicing out here so late anyway?"
Marco tossed his practice sword between his hands. "I already finished my required daily training. I am trying to learn the advanced steps of the Azure Crane Blade technique on my own time. The sect only teaches the second-year students up to the tenth step, while they restrict the first-year novices to the first four movements."
The older boy gestured toward Solomon’s basic gray uniform. "Pavilion Leader Jin personally pulled you into his master class this morning. He must be teaching you all thirteen steps of the sequence. Show me how to execute the remaining forms."
Solomon rubbed the back of his neck and considered the request. "Is teaching advanced techniques to other disciples actually allowed? The faculty might have strict rules against sharing pavilion secrets."
Marco shrugged his shoulders and kicked a loose pebble across the courtyard. "I have absolutely no idea."
Solomon pondered the potential consequences for another second. He quickly dismissed the concern and offered a bright grin. "I honestly do not care about sect regulations anyway. If any of the instructors catch us and complain, I will just blame the entire thing entirely on you."
Solomon dropped his greatsword onto the stone planter and walked over to the nearest equipment rack. He grabbed a wooden longsword and stepped directly into the center of the dirt ring.
He raised the practice weapon to his chest, instantly demonstrating the transition into the eleventh step.
The eleventh movement of the Azure Crane Blade required a fluid transition from a sweeping leg trip directly into an aerial slash. He bounded off the ball of his front foot to execute the mid-air strike, landing smoothly on the cobblestones to drop his center of gravity for the twelfth deflection arc.
[James_Hayes: bro is officially the newest instructor of the sect.]
[Fatal_Beauty: giving private lessons to a boy is wild.]
[1Fizzy: Marco is literally taking notes right now.]
Marco tightened his grip on his own practice weapon and stared at the demonstration. Solomon walked back to the stone planter and pointed the tip of his wooden blade at the older boy’s legs.
"You dump all your kinetic force into the dirt when you finish the tenth step," Solomon stated. "Your heel completely locks up. You have to keep your ankle loose and use the rotational pull to propel yourself upward."
Marco nodded and reset his footing on the training ground. He swung his wooden sword through the tenth movement, sweeping his leg low across the dirt. Following the advice, he kept his ankle flexible and instantly utilized the remaining rotation to launch himself into the air.
He landed perfectly balanced on his boots after the aerial slash cracked sharply through the quiet courtyard.
