Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - 34. Chapter 8 - Council 8.2

I waited on the platform outside the concealed training space for the sword master, and in the meantime, I studied the shale structure of the exterior disguise in detail. I still couldn't find any gaps--it was an amazing design.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

Feeling a bit guilty, I checked the staircase to make sure the sword master wasn't nearby. After confirming the coast was clear, I returned to the hidden door and cleared my throat.

"Qana Snow." I tried my best to mimic his impatient tone, confident that I had nailed it.

The shale structure didn't react at all.

Well, I didn't really expect it to work.

A while later, Qana appeared, carrying a large black backpack in his hand. I noticed he also had another one slung over his back.

I could think of a few possibilities for the equipment he was carrying, and none of them were particularly optimistic.

He unlocked the entrance without offering any explanation and stepped into the room. I quickly followed, and the sliding door almost caught my tail.

"This is for the second worst and third worst scenarios," Qana said, placing the backpack in the corner.

I appreciated that the sword master never sugarcoated harsh realities.

"I'm not sure how much time we have left; the procedures vary with each batch. But if, for some reason, I am..." He glanced at me. "... absent, tear down the door and take everything." Inside, you'll find everything you might need." Qana pressed against the wall, revealing a sword rack. "In that case, I'll ensure they won't notice you for a while."

Although I had just said I liked the way he didn't sugarcoat things, being handed instructions as if they were final words left me a bit overwhelmed. All I could do was nod reflexively.

"Now, for the worst scenario," Qana said, tossing me a hand-and-a-half sword. I caught it with the blade, still sheathed. "I'll teach you how truly powerful psychics fight."

He drew Winter Chill, and the broadsword sent a shockwave through the air, causing the entire room to vibrate. Qana expanded his consciousness, and I noticed twelve silver metal orbs slowly orbiting around him at chest height, following a fixed trajectory. The master's deep blue eyes had turned completely red.

Qana waved his hand casually, and I sensed several objects entering my consciousness domain. I caught them, letting them hover in front of me. There were twelve adamantine spheres. I mimicked Qana's technique, setting the spheres to orbit around my chest. After completing the setup, I looked up and met the sword master's eyes.

"Snow, starting stance," he said in an authoritative tone. But I swore I caught a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

I had so many questions! Don't you think you should explain some things to me? I also have so much I want to say to you! Why start with final instructions as if you're about to die? Do you really think I'm ready to face this mess without knowing anything?

No... He doesn't think I'm ready.

I stared into Qana's blood-red eyes, searching deeper.

He doesn't think I'm ready, so he's using the remaining time to prepare me as much as possible.

To prepare me... for surviving in the event of his "absence."

I had never considered the possibility that the towering sword master could fall in any reality. Qana was supposed to be unyielding and indomitable, nothing could stand in his way, let alone... kill him. But my rational side knew that was impossible. Qana had once said there were nine Alpha-level psychics, and he was the weakest.

What is this all for? What's so important? I'm still in the dark!

My past was full of vivid yet broken memories, mostly shrouded in mist because the Senate forbade any mention of the exiled wolf. Of course, I had no peer interaction to create any cherished memories. And now, the future, which once seemed to hold a glimmer of hope, was also obscured by chaotic uncertainty.

I was utterly trapped, stuck in this bewildering present, where all realities were poised to diverge.

I didn't know what Qana had packed in the bag for me, nor what awaited at the end of the path he had chosen for me.

I didn't know what the Nyxes remembered about me, what Aether planned to do, or how it would affect me.

I knew nothing. Only fog lay ahead, and my eyes were blindfolded. All I could do was charge forward into whatever might come or stay put and wait for something to catch up to me.

"Snow, starting stance," Qana repeated, and the brightness of Lancelnopt Synchrotron Radiation intensified.

I swallowed all my doubts and questions, raising the hand-and-a-half sword at my side, assuming the stance.

It was a look of determination.

How could I embarrass Qana?

I guess trust means relinquishing control, choosing to accept the risk and rely on someone else even when the outcome is uncertain.

So, I lifted my snout, straightened my back, and took that step, moving forward into the complete unknown.

"Expanding consciousness domain is the first step. In most situations, controlling a larger space means more potential targets to dominate and compressing your opponent's options.

Erosion of the domain isn't always a strategy that would be used, especially between equally matched psychics. When consciousness is expanded, the mutually repellent domains will divide space according to proportion--this is what we call neutralization. If you can unilaterally erode the opponent's domain, it will bring an absolute advantage. However, this is based on an extraordinary level of understanding. It's not impossible, but extremely difficult. Considering it as a combat method is impractical.

Therefore, the most common scenario in battles between psychics is the formation of merged domains, with neutral domains appearing occasionally. The principles need to grasp don't change; just be mindful of the range you can operate within."

As the merged domain formed, Qana immediately attacked me with his consciousness before I had time to unleash a strike with the Snow stance.

He's so strong!

I'm pretty sure he's using his full strength this time. If I hadn't reflexively pushed back, my body would be shattered by now. I mustered an even stronger force, breaking free from Qana's influence, causing him to stagger slightly.

This is the first time I truly felt the strength of my own power.

I mimicked Qana's method, suppressing him with my consciousness, pinning the sword master in place.

"The second step involves using free-floating adamantite. Strictly speaking, you could substitute this with other materials, but adamantite's ability to enhance waves and interact with defense circle makes it the best choice.

Generally, the stronger the psychic, the more objects they can dominate simultaneously, though that's not always the case. Differences in proficiency with consciousness union techniques create significant variations in the upper and lower limits. These free-floating objects can be taken over by the opponent's domain as soon as they enter it, so they are mainly used to interfere or overload the opponent's control.

This is the best chance for a weaker psychic to turn the tide, as precise manipulation relies on skill and practice, not just strength."

Qana's muscles tensed as he resisted my suppression, his eyes glowing red.

It feels... strange.

Even though Qana had mentioned that I'm stronger in terms of psychic power, it still feels odd to truly experience it.

But the sword master isn't going to let me off easy. The waves he's channeling are difficult to control. My endurance has never been great, and if the same applies to willpower output, then this stalemate won't end well for me.

As I considered how to maintain my advantage, I sensed several objects flying toward me--Qana had reshaped the spheres into twelve blades aimed directly at my head.

I seized them with consciousness, only to realize that the adamantite spheres I had been controlling were being taken over. Hastily, I regained control, but one sphere slipped out of my grasp, forcing me to dodge to avoid getting hit.

After regaining my footing, I saw Qana dismantling the sphere into dozens of fine needles, launching them at me again. There were too many, and I worried that if I released my grip on the other adamantite pieces, Qana would seize them again. So, I combined all the floating adamantite into a unified structure, forcing them to stop.

Qana didn't waste the moment I was distracted. As my suppression weakened, the sword master leaped at me, sword raised for a strike.

I thrust all the adamantite I held toward him, forcing the sword master back beyond the range where his broadsword could reach me. I made sure not to injure him, avoiding any contact between the adamantite and Qana's blood.

With a wave of his hand, he swept the metal aside and charged at me once more.

"The third step is adamantite weaponry. Holding a weapon made from this unique material can have a profound impact on battles between psychics.

The basic application doesn't necessarily require the weapon itself. Adamantite can serve as a wave amplifier, enhancing various abilities. But if the weapon or tool is recognized as part of one's own existence circle, it becomes immune to direct internal interference from other psychics, including control snatches. This is crucial in combat against other psychics, which is why professionals in this field always strive to acquire adamantite weapons or at least carry gear they can perceive as extensions of their body.

Once an adamantite weapon is infused with a sufficient level of consciousness, it can resonate. That resonance, if it finds the correct frequency, can theoretically cut through any material at the molecular level. Beyond interacting with the physical space, it can emit inverse waves to weaken or counteract an opponent's waves, or even their domain.

So, a weapon that cannot be taken over, can touch defense circle, and that can interfere with the opponent's consciousness domain. To some extent, wielding an adamantite weapon forces combat back into the physical realm, leveling the playing field for psychics with a power discrepancy."

Just as I settled into the Frost stance, Qana had already closed the distance between us, delivering a swift and unhesitant strike. The broadsword's length gave him an advantage in reach, but in a battle with so many different methods of attack, that advantage wasn't particularly crucial.

I deflected the sword's trajectory while pushing Qana back, simultaneously pulling the blades formed from adamantine back towards him from behind. The sword master had to divert his attention to block the blades, preventing him from fully counteracting the force pushing him from the front. This destabilized his stance, and I seized the opportunity, stepping into his range and sweeping my blade in a wide arc with the Glacier stance.

With a sharp clang, Qana brought his broadsword down, stopping my attack. The collision sent a shockwave through the hilt of my sword, numbing my hand and nearly causing me to lose my grip.

I raised the hilt with both hands, retracting my blade while maintaining the lock between our swords, preventing his broadsword from breaking free. But Qana had no intention of letting me retreat. He took a step closer, maintaining the downward pressure with Winter Chill, while sending the blade-shaped adamantine back at me, circling around his sides in an arc.

Using his superior weight and strength, he gradually forced my defense to collapse, leaving me with no spare focus to wrest control of the adamantine from him. But that wasn't my true goal.

With a crunching sound, the ground beneath Qana's right foot shattered, causing him to stumble.

I had spent considerable time studying the composition of this black material.

Qana's balance wavered, a look of surprise crossing his face. I twisted the hilt, successfully rolling my sword and breaking through his defensive stance, smashing the guard into his face. Simultaneously, I seized control of the flying blades, redirecting them on the shortest path back toward Qana in a near-perfect angular arc.

The sword master, struggling to regain his footing, swung his broadsword in a wide arc, unleashing a powerful wave that deflected all incoming blades. But before I could react, dozens more slashes, transformed into white streaks, came rushing toward me. I swiftly regained control of the adamantine blades, sending out a resonant wave to neutralize the incoming attacks.

Twenty-four blades orbited around me, each following its own trajectory. I programmed them to move in a satellite-like pattern, allowing me to control them with minimal effort.

Qana wiped the blood from his nose and grinned at me. I recognized that expression; it was one he showed only when he was in a particularly good mood.

"The forging of a complete adamantine weapon is no easy task, making those who possess one exceedingly rare. And those capable of awakening such a weapon are even fewer.

A complete adamantine weapon that hasn't been awakened is no different from an ordinary adamantine weapon in battle. The process of awakening, in essence, brings the adamantine weapon into our dimension, allowing this special metal to truly interact with the world. In simple terms, this amplifies everything that an adamantine weapon could originally do--by a tremendous, almost unimaginable amount."

"Ukayok!" Qana shouted, wielding Winter Chill with one hand and drawing a circle with it.

In the next instant, our merged domain shattered--Winter Chill's resonance created a space that my consciousness couldn't reach.

This was entirely different from the last time Qana had awakened Winter Chill. Now, the broadsword in his hand didn't even look like a sword--it resembled something from a higher dimension, commanding its own independent space. I understood then that this was the true nature of a complete adamantine weapon, revealed only when it was awakened with enough willpower.

Qana must have been using some form of body-enhancing wave, for he closed the distance between us in a single bound, swinging Winter Chill at me. I narrowly dodged the blade, flipping backward while summoning my consciousness to neutralize the shockwave and wind pressure generated by the strike. I also maneuvered the adamantine blades to block the slashes coming from beyond my conscious circle.

Each swing of the sword was a confrontation both in the realm of consciousness and in the physical world.

This made me wonder--when I, too, can awaken an adamantine weapon, will the battle extend into a third domain? Is this what a battle between powerful psychics looks like?

But now clearly wasn't the time for such thoughts.

I clumsily dodged one attack after another, retreating whenever I could, seizing any chance to catch my breath.

I brought down half the ceiling, but Qana didn't even change his stance--the black boulder shattered into four large fragments, and the sword master charged through the center. Winter Chill slashed through the air as if cutting through space itself, tracing a distorted light, and descended upon me with a Glacial stance from above.

With my heel against the wall, I knew there was nowhere to retreat; I had to take this hit.

Is that even possible?

Winter Chill... I couldn't even be sure if what I was seeing was the broadsword itself, because the wave it was emitting now felt more like... a galaxy of countless shimmering silver lights.

But whatever it was, there was only one way to find out if I could withstand it.

I locked eyes with Qana, whose eyes glowed red, and gripped my sword's hilt tightly.

The sword master always claimed that he wasn't good with words, that he only understood things related to combat. But I think, in this unreserved battle, I finally understood what he was trying to convey.

Why does Qana care so much about me? Why is he so kind to me? Why... does he never clearly explain these complex and difficult matters?

There is no reason, nor is there any need for one.

I must experience and understand it myself, because only I can give myself the answers I truly need.

I think, among all those grand questions I thought were impossible to answer, I finally have a clear idea about at least one of them.

I released my domain and poured all my consciousness into my hand-and-a-half sword. Ignoring the piercing shriek and the intense vibrations that felt like they would shatter the weapon, I let the surge of power well up inside me, filling me... filling everything.

Qana and I clashed swords amidst the dazzling light and thundering sounds around us, and in that moment, I could clearly hear all the words he had been trying to convey.

"So, we now understand how psychics use their powers in battle: domains, domination, waves.

No matter which method is used, it all relies on understanding. Among the rules of psychic abilities, the highest, most important, and most unshakable one is understanding.

Understanding oneself determines the nature and strength of the domain; understanding things determines the effectiveness of domination; and all kinds of waves, whether in reception or construction, require corresponding knowledge to comprehend.

Doesn't that suggest something?

So, with that said, there's only one core question left about psychic combat--why do psychics fight?"

"Maybe next time..." I sat on the snow-covered platform, watching the various sized black fragments slowly moving themselves into place. "...we don't need to tear the roof off?" I tried to joke, hoping to ease the tense atmosphere. My throat was still sore from the time I spent screaming earlier when Qana reset my dislocated shoulder.

Qana merely nodded, his gaze fixed on the training space, half of which had been blasted away.

Given the size of the commotion without drawing attention, I could only guess that Qana had set up a containment circle from the start. Seeing the surrounding terrain undamaged largely confirmed my suspicion.

So that wasn't even Qana's limit--he needed to expend the energy that could have blocked the final impact on maintaining the containment circle. What could an Alpha-level psychic achieve if they used their full strength?

No, I'm not talking about sinking a continent or crashing an asteroid into some place.

But rather... what could be done.

What could I do?

"Tomorrow, same time," Qana said, standing up.

"Yes, Master." I stood up as well, bowing to him with my ears lowered.

Qana left without a word.

I watched the sword master's retreating figure and faintly noticed some stiffness in his gait.

Perhaps it was just my imagination.

I turned back to look at the black fragments scattered across the ground, slowly moving around. One of the larger ones seemed to be struggling to climb a slope, stuck in a loop.

I walked over, grabbed it by both ends, and lifted it to the higher part of the platform.

Wow, it's heavier than I expected! Or maybe I'm just too weak?

I glanced at my arms, then shrugged.

I noticed that the fragments moved according to a certain pattern, following separate routes in different groups. The paths didn't cross, didn't alternate, and didn't interfere with each other.

Interesting.

I spent a good while observing the room as it slowly repaired itself, occasionally helping some of the larger pieces that got stuck. I then realized they never got lost, even if I placed the fragments off their original paths. They could always find the shortest way back to their route.

I need this ability.

So I kept studying it for a while longer until I couldn't stop yawning, and my eyelids grew heavy. Then I returned to my quarters.

The next few weeks followed the same routine. I ended up with plenty of bruises and soreness after each session, but Qana always stopped before causing any real damage.

I knew he was trying to conserve the nanodrone reserves.

Qana returned to his usual stern self, and we barely spoke. I could understand the unspoken anxiety and worry he didn't want to show, but... didn't he warn me? Be careful what you wish for.

Aether was still clearly unsure about some things, and our conversations were brief or deliberately focused on unrelated topics. But more often, silence filled our exchanges.

I must admit, the uneasy feeling from this unspoken pressure... it scares me a little. And I can't talk to anyone about it--not even Piqsirpoq, as I don't want to drag him into something worse.

So the moments when I can truly relax are when I'm in the concealed training space, completely shielded by adamantine.

Today, Qana left again without a word. I even managed to knock Winter Chill out of his hands, which shows just how distracted the sword master was.

But I... I don't know what to do.

He's building a wall between us.

I know it's some kind of precaution.

Shaking my head, I didn't want to dwell on it. I believe this is just a phase, and the issues will eventually pass.

Removing the terminal from my arm, I set it to play Vivaldi's "Winter"--I recently discovered that the rhythm and melody help me better control the flow.

Expanding my consciousness, I enveloped the entire hidden room, commanding all the black fragments to float into the air.

Thousands... no... tens of thousands of fragments, all varying in size, rotated and drifted within my consciousness, following the path of inertia.

As if I was holding the world in the palm of my paw.

Though it seemed like there were many different pieces of varying shapes and sizes, it was like assembling a puzzle--each was a part of a larger, grander picture. It was a bit like hive mind consciousness: one for all, all for one.

Thus, I could effortlessly control them with synchronized resonance, perfectly guiding them. Following the trembling rhythm and soaring melody, everything spiraled as if it had its own will.

Countless... delicate snowflakes.

In my domain, all the fragments gathered and dispersed according to their own rhythm, eventually converging into one. Every small piece knew its place, and every empty corner awaited its fragment.

A snowstorm in full dance.

Amid the stirring strings, I guided all the fragments back to their rightful places, and the room gradually restored itself. Finally, as the notes paused, I bowed alone under the only light source, feeling the echoes ripple through all possible dimensions.