Blade Over Magic

Bloom II

If you asked Xander why he so fell in love with swordplay in the first place, he’d find it difficult to actually give you a concrete answer.

After all, one day as a child, he was watching television and saw two people duel with swords. It was a tournament, and it seemed to be the finals.

He hadn’t really been paying attention to what was on before then. His father hardly watched anything that caught his interest. Most things didn’t, really.

Yet there was something about seeing the way those two combatants made use of their weapons. The swift yet calculated manner in which they swung. Their stances, their technique. All of it appealed to a part of Xander’s brain he didn’t even know existed.

The thing was, there was no specific THING that made Xander go, ”I love swordsmanship.”

If it were another person, they might say they like how it looks. Some light just like the swords themselves. Others might say it gave them a sense of power to learn. And so on.

But Xander? He didn’t like any one of those individually.

Instead, he loved it as a whole.

From bottom to top. Everything that could be considered swordsmanship fell under his love.

Which is why he faced it so single-mindedly.

Even when people around him discouraged him. Even when his father threatened him. He did not care. He chased the blade without looking back, and he loved every single day of it.

However, perhaps he chased too fast. Because before he even knew it...

He found himself in front.

And not by a small margin, either.

It did not matter if it was a prodigy or a master who had practiced the sword their whole lives. It did not matter if it was a common longsword or the exotic urumi. As long as it was considered a sword, Xander existed so far above the curve that it was almost inhuman.

You might beat him in something else. But if you attempted to best him in a swordfight, you already lost.

It reached a point where he stopped bothering with things like tournaments because it was always a foregone conclusion. Even the spectators knew it. If Xander participated, then unless he forfeited on his own or an external factor intervened, he was going to win. No questions asked.

And this... was tragic.

Because Xander never stopped polishing his craft.

Even without the existence of a proper opponent, his sword skills continued to improve. Yet he’d never encountered anyone who could endure long enough to even glimpse it.

So it just kept piling and piling, up until the day he was shot.

Now, after coming to Tatonia, it was certainly a boon. The existence of magic and powerful opponents made it so that Xander could freely express his swordsmanship, and depending on who his opponent was, not only would it not just deal with them easily, it might even fail completely.

For example, Mia.

This is also why his obsession was rekindled so brightly after their fight, and why he was able to resolve his doubts after the fight with the Void Raptor.

But there was still an issue.

Technically speaking, Xander was the only ’true’ swordsman in Tatonia. Sure swords existed, and there was Bodhi, but saying they were lacking was a severe understatement.

To put it simply, Xander felt a bit lonely.

He had his friends, sure. But the loneliness wasn’t just about lacking people around him.

No, he wanted someone he could properly exchange blows with.

He’d believed for Bodhi to be that person, but sadly, the issue with the ants and the frontline as a whole stopped them from making the progress he wanted.

Then he met the ant.

At first when he learned of its ability to adapt, his logical mind was to kill it as quickly as possible. After all, the biggest mistake one could make when facing an opponent like that was allowing them the time to adapt. So Xander was entirely prepared to deal with it within the first few exchanges.

...

But then a thought reached him.

It was a small one. One that he could have easily ignored given the circumstances.

One that he SHOULD have ignored given the circumstances.

Yet when he had it, it stuck like glue. Then it spread like a wildfire.

If the ant could adapt... could it possible adapt to him?

Could it adapt to how he fought?

Could it... adapt to his swordsmanship?

It was an insane thought. Moreover, it was selfish. Xander knew this. The captain had paid the ultimate price, Falael got stabbed through the chest, and Aubrey along with the Lunatics all sustained grievous wounds just to collect the information they did to give him and ensure he won the fight.

Anything else would be borderline insulting.

He knew this.

But... would he ever get a chance like this again?

So, he did it.

Carefully, he let the ant adapt in a way that pushed him to the brink. And, gradually, it worked.

Slowly, he was stripped apart, later by layer. Vibrations, magic, perception. All of it peeled back bit by bit.

And when it was done, Xander was left bare.

But what remained wasn’t emptiness. It wasn’t vulnerability.

It was passion.

And suddenly, Xander felt like he was back to where it all began. In that living room, lying on his stomach, watching as the two finalists in a sword tournament crossed blades.

It wasn’t just the fact that the ant had pushed him so far. It was how. Someone else may have managed the same thing with certain unique means and magic.

But fundamentally, the ant was attacking Xander using bladed limbs that resembled swords, and Xander’s sword brain loved that.

It loved it so much that it was no longer thinking about the possible repercussions if he lost. Not thinking of the recording device that was watching the whole battle and probably broadcasting it to a whole swathe of people.

No, the only thing he thought of was...

Just how fun it felt.

It was so, unbelievably selfish.

But he felt that way anyway.

And he allowed himself to feel that way.

And when he did.

Something snapped inside of him.

He fought the ant. But besides using Resonance State to somewhat keep up physically, he did nothing else besides basic channeling.

He did not use vibrations.

He did not use any of his elemental skills.

He did not use mana breathing.

Logically, this should have put him in a horrific disadvantage. Yet the way he moved... words couldn’t describe the sheer wonder of his movements.

The ant attacked like a storm. Its movements sharp, precise, deadly, and all-encompassing.

But Xander almost seemed to move in tune with the world itself. Every swing of his sword was like the stroke of a painter’s brush.

It was an immaculate dance.

A beautiful song.

An incredible book.

It couldn’t be described using a single term. But that was fine.

As for Xander, he seemed to be focused intently on something. Two things, actually.

One was what his eyes saw, and the second was inside of him.

As he and the ant clashed and the latter adapted to the best of its capability, he found himself becoming... aware. It was strange. He could see the swings of the ant. But he could also ’see’ where it wanted to attack.

At the same time, inside his body, his mana pool started to behave oddly.

Previously, when Aubrey had asked him what he intended to do when making his own mana construct, he gave a non-answer, because truth be told, he hadn’t been sure.

On paper, something vibration related seemed like the optimal decision. But Xander instinctively felt that if he did so, he’d be throwing away something crucial to his very existence.

At that point, he wouldn’t be a swordsmans, but a mage who just happened to swing a sharp stick. No, everything else was secondary. The sword was primary.

But try as he might, he couldn’t figure out a solution. His earth knowledge didn’t save him this time, and while he did not despair, he had certainly been troubled. So he concluded that he needed more time to experiment, and as time passed, he would slowly figure something out.

But right now, he wasn’t even thinking. He simply focused on enjoying the current situation. And as he moved, his mana moved with him.

And the more it did, the more it built towards something unseen. Yet it was clear that if it reached whatever destination it was heading for, the results would be...

Well, seeing would be better, no?

The ant also sensed this change, and it suddenly felt a wave of urgency.

It wanted to create distance, to disrupt Xander. Anything. Because its instincts told him that if it did not succeed, the future would be bleak.

And short.

Yet despite its overwhelming attacks filling every bit of space. It was like it was the one ensnared in a net.

Xander’s movements had effectively locked it down, and try as it might, but it could not extricate itself from the current situation.

And then, within Xander’s Mana pool, something odd happened.

The image of his psyche, the one filled with every sword he had ever used and broken was projected in the space.

That was the first puzzle piece.