Chapter 3: Training in Secret

The days blurred into one another as Bleddyn threw himself into his training under the Sword Saint’s watchful gaze. Each morning, he would rise before dawn and practice in secret, away from the eyes of the sect’s other disciples. In the early hours, the courtyard was empty, save for him and the faint echo of the Sword Saint’s voice, guiding his every move.

The Sword Saint was relentless, always pushing Bleddyn to go beyond his limits. At times, Bleddyn’s muscles screamed in protest, his body worn from the constant practice, but the spirit’s voice never faltered.

“Again,” the Sword Saint would say whenever Bleddyn faltered or his movements lost focus. “You must master the basics before anything else. Precision, control, and balance—these are the keys to swordsmanship.”

Bleddyn’s mind often wandered to his fellow disciples, wondering how long it would take for them to notice his absence from the usual group practices. He had grown used to the dismissive glances, the whispered remarks behind his back, but since his defeat of Talon in the martial arts competition, their attention on him had sharpened. He couldn’t afford to reveal his training with the Sword Saint—not yet.

He swung his sword again, trying to focus on the movements. They were basic forms, nothing too impressive, but the Sword Saint always stressed that mastery over the fundamentals was the foundation for everything else. As Bleddyn completed the series of strikes and blocks, he felt a subtle shift in his body, a newfound ease in the way his sword moved.

“Good,” the Sword Saint said, appearing at his side. “You’re beginning to understand. The sword is not merely an extension of your body—it is a part of you. Let it move with your will, not against it.”

Bleddyn nodded, though a part of him still struggled to internalize the concept. He was improving, but the frustration of his slow progress gnawed at him. He wanted to be stronger, faster—he wanted to prove that he was more than the weakling everyone saw him as.

As if sensing his thoughts, the Sword Saint spoke again. “Impatience will be your downfall. Great power requires great discipline. You cannot rush what must be earned.”

Bleddyn tightened his grip on his sword. “I understand,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure he did.

The days passed in much the same way, with Bleddyn spending every spare moment practicing. His routine became a solitary ritual: training before the sun rose, attending to his duties in the sect during the day, and sneaking away at night to continue his exercises. He kept to himself, avoiding the other disciples as much as possible, especially Talon, who had grown increasingly suspicious of Bleddyn’s absence from the group training sessions.

But despite the isolation, Bleddyn’s skills were improving. His strikes were faster, his footwork more precise. He could feel the energy within him—the beginnings of what the Sword Saint called Sword Intent—taking shape, though it was still faint, elusive.

One night, as he trained in the courtyard under the light of the moon, the Sword Saint stood by, observing his progress with quiet intensity.

“You are close,” the Sword Saint said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. “You can feel it, can’t you? The energy inside you, waiting to be shaped.”

Bleddyn nodded, his sword raised before him. He had felt it for days now, a pulsing warmth in his chest that seemed to grow stronger with every swing of his blade. It was as though the sword itself was responding to his will, guiding his movements with an invisible force.

“Focus,” the Sword Saint said. “Do not force it. Let the energy flow naturally.”

Bleddyn closed his eyes, centering himself. He took a deep breath, allowing the tension in his body to melt away. The sword felt light in his hand, almost as if it were a part of him. Slowly, he exhaled, and as he did, he felt the energy within him begin to stir.

He opened his eyes and swung the sword in a smooth, deliberate arc. This time, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness. The blade cut through the air with a quiet hum, leaving behind a faint trail of energy.

For a brief moment, Bleddyn felt a surge of power—real, tangible power—flow through him. His heart raced as he watched the glowing aura around his sword dissipate, leaving him breathless.

The Sword Saint smiled faintly. “Well done. You’ve taken your first real step toward mastering Sword Intent.”

Bleddyn lowered his sword, his chest heaving with the effort. The energy was gone now, but the memory of it lingered, burning in his mind. He had done it—he had felt it. He had tapped into the power the Sword Saint had been teaching him about.

But before he could revel in the moment, the Sword Saint’s voice cut through his thoughts. “This is only the beginning. What you’ve experienced is but a fraction of the power you will need to master.”

Bleddyn nodded, though the weight of the Sword Saint’s words settled heavily on his shoulders. There was still so much to learn, so much farther to go. But for the first time in his life, he felt like he was truly on the right path.

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Over the next few weeks, Bleddyn’s progress continued, though he kept it hidden from everyone in the sect. During the day, he remained quiet and unassuming, avoiding the attention of the senior disciples. But at night, when the others slept, he trained in secret, honing his newfound skills.

One evening, as Bleddyn practiced alone in the courtyard, Talon appeared, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Bleddyn swinging his sword. “What are you doing here, Bleddyn?”

Bleddyn’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected anyone to find him, especially not Talon. He quickly lowered his sword, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Just practicing.”

Talon smirked, stepping closer. “Practicing? At this hour? And in secret, no less. You’ve been avoiding the group training sessions. What are you hiding?”

Bleddyn clenched his jaw, keeping his gaze down. “I’m not hiding anything. I just prefer to practice alone.”

Talon circled him like a predator sizing up its prey. “Is that so? Or are you afraid of being embarrassed in front of everyone again? You got lucky in the competition, Bleddyn. Don’t think for a second that you’re stronger than me.”

Bleddyn said nothing, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. He could feel the Sword Saint’s presence, a quiet but steady reassurance in the back of his mind. Stay calm. Don’t give in to his taunts.

“Prove it,” Talon said, drawing his own sword. “Show me what you’ve been practicing.”

Bleddyn hesitated, his mind racing. He wasn’t ready to reveal what he had learned—not yet. But Talon was persistent, and he knew that refusing the challenge would only make things worse.

Taking a deep breath, Bleddyn raised his sword, meeting Talon’s gaze. “Fine.”

Talon grinned, clearly pleased with Bleddyn’s decision. Without warning, he lunged, his blade cutting through the air with deadly speed.

Bleddyn reacted on instinct, his sword moving to meet the strike. There was a clash of steel, and for a brief moment, Bleddyn felt the familiar warmth of Sword Intent surge within him. He didn’t push it too far, keeping his power restrained, but even the faintest hint of it gave him the edge he needed.

Talon’s eyes widened in surprise as Bleddyn’s sword pushed him back, the force of the blow catching him off guard. “What…?”

Bleddyn stepped back, lowering his sword. “I don’t want to fight you, Talon.”

For a moment, Talon said nothing, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration. But then he sheathed his sword, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t over, Bleddyn. I’ll find out what you’re hiding.”

With that, Talon turned and stalked off, leaving Bleddyn alone in the courtyard. As soon as he was gone, Bleddyn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

The Sword Saint’s voice echoed softly in his mind. “You did well. But be cautious. Your progress will not go unnoticed forever.”

Bleddyn nodded, though a sense of unease settled over him. He was growing stronger, yes, but the more he improved, the more attention he would attract. And in a place like the Azure Cloud Sect, attention could be dangerous.