Grimoire of Cultivation

Chapter 67: Beneath the Surface

Marcus's laughter echoed in the training hall. "Do you doubt me, boy?"

Hands on his knees, Darius stared at the ground, a muscle in his jaw twitching slightly. 'Again with the boy. I was battling gods when he wasn’t even a thought.'

Straightening up, Darius flashed a smile, the edge sharp. "You should realize my speed is the best I can manage. Teasing the young really isn’t becoming of someone your age."

Marcus's smile briefly faltered, but he quickly recovered, his expression brightening. "Aren't we confident? How about we make a wager?"

Darius's breathing evened out, his eyebrow arching in interest.

"If I can teach you to surpass my speed, then while my men search for a solution to your bottleneck, you will accompany my son and make an effort to befriend him," Marcus proposed, the words tumbling out a bit awkwardly towards the end.

"And what if you're just boasting?"

"Then you may choose one of the Primordial Artifacts from my family's collection," Marcus countered confidently.

Darius's eyes widened at the boldness of the offer. "I don't think it's wise to gamble with your family's treasures. But if you insist, who am I to refuse?"

Marcus chuckled, clapping Darius on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. "That's the spirit! Just remember, the key point is to befriend him."

Darius rolled his eyes but felt a warmth spread through him. 'Such a troublesome son must be a constant worry. He’s probably hoping I can exert some positive influence.'

"I'll give it an honest effort if I lose the bet," Darius assured him, though he sighed inwardly, 'Sorry, old man, you might as well hand over that artifact now. There's no way you can improve my movement technique.'

"I'm glad to hear it! Let's begin then. First, let me set up some Eyes." Marcus walked over to a chest along the side of the hall, pulling out two orbs mounted on stone bases. He placed one at each end of the hall, nodding in satisfaction. "These crystal eyes will record everything. It'll be easier to show you," he explained, beckoning Darius to join him.

As he stood beside Marcus, a pang of guilt washed over Darius. 'I'm starting to feel a bit bad about this. I should refuse the Artifact; it wouldn't feel right to take it, given all his help.' He glanced at Marcus, his expression conflicted.

Recognizing Darius's internal conflict, Marcus clapped him firmly on the back. "Don’t count your wins just yet. I'm not one to make a foolish bet," he chuckled. With that, Marcus blurred into motion, leaving only a gust that ruffled Darius's hair in his wake.

From the opposite end of the hall, Marcus gestured playfully. "Over here, boy! Come on, give it all you've got—don't hold back!"

Darius bristled at being called "boy" again, his jaw tightening. 'Say boy one more time, and I might just have your son calling me father,' he thought with a smirk. Channeling his fire mana, he surged across the hall like a comet, his fiery aura blazing a swift path to the opposite end.

As he skidded to a stop beside Marcus, Darius asked with a hint of bravado, "How many Primordial Artifacts does your family own?"

Kinneman chuckled as he picked up the crystal by his feet. "Go fetch the other one."

Once both crystals were retrieved, Marcus positioned them side by side, touching. He briefly placed his hand on the pair, then stepped back and nudged Darius with his elbow. "Now, watch closely, we'll start with your attempt."

The room darkened slightly as the orbs emitted a combined light, projecting a large image onto the air in front of them, creating a floating screen that displayed Darius standing still.

Darius's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he marveled at the orbs. 'First time I've seen these in action. Handy little inventions,' he thought, his interest piqued by the magitech before Marcus's elbow nudged him again.

"Focus on the vision," Marcus chided, shaking his head with a mild sigh. "Kids these days."

A hint of embarrassment colored Darius's cheeks as he redirected his gaze to the projection, now paused on his scowling expression just before his dash. With a flick from Marcus, the image sprung to life, slowing down to allow each detail of Darius's movements to be scrutinized.

The image showed Darius crouching briefly before erupting forward, taking powerful strides that carried him swiftly across the hall.

Then, the projection shifted to Marcus. His run was slowed, revealing the intricate details of his movement. Beneath him, flames burst with each step, illustrating the precise and intense technique that Darius hadn't fully appreciated in real-time.

"Notice the difference?" Marcus asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Darius responded with a flat tone, "You're faster than me."

Marcus clapped his hands, startling Darius. "Wrong answer! Let me pose a different question. When you consider the fastest creatures on Gaia, what do they all share, aside from the ones that fly?"

Darius furrowed his brow, irritation plain on his face. "Well, if you exclude flying... they mostly run on four legs or more."

Clapping his hands once more, Marcus beamed. "Exactly right! And why does that matter? It's about contact with the ground. Four legs mean more time grounded. Now, take another look. Compare how frequently your feet touch the ground to mine."

Marcus gestured over the crystal Eyes, activating the display. The images of their attempts played side by side on a split screen.

Darius watched intently, his interest piqued. He observed the stark difference and murmured, "Your feet make contact with the ground three times more frequently than mine..." His brow furrowed as realization dawned, setting his thoughts in rapid motion.

"The more often you can maintain contact, the greater your acceleration, because every second you spend in the air, you lose momentum," Marcus explained, watching Darius process the information. Noticing the intent focus in Darius's eyes, Marcus stepped back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. 'If only I had a son like him. Maybe that brat would learn something.'

Darius sat down abruptly, closing his eyes as he mulled over Marcus's words. 'The principle is straightforward yet profoundly impactful. In my typical movement techniques, each step is about covering as much ground as possible quickly. But if I adjust my step pattern, emphasizing downward force to maximize push-off and minimize airborne time, I could sustain peak velocity across each stride...'

Lost in thought, Darius didn't notice time slide from morning to late afternoon. Snapping out of his reverie, he sprang to his feet, "Let's set up the eyes again; I want to try another run."

Marcus chuckled, appreciating Darius's initiative as he watched him snatch up one of the orbs and dash to the far end of the hall.

"Why are you waiting?" Darius called out, his eyes sparking with eagerness as he positioned the eye.

"Seems you've figured something out. Let's see it in action," Marcus remarked, grabbing the remaining eye. He instantly zipped to the opposite end of the hall, set the orb down, and reappeared beside Darius in a blink. "This time, let's race."

Crouching down, Darius exhaled slowly, steadying his breathing and focusing intently. "Whenever you're ready."

Observing Darius's earnest demeanor, Marcus couldn't help but be impressed again. He assumed a similar stance, his aura pulsing around his legs. "On three."

"One... two... three!"

At Marcus's count, both figures surged forward. Darius, with an explosive start, appeared a few meters ahead almost instantly, but his momentum threw him off balance. He crashed into the ground, skidding across the floor with a harsh scrape of skin against tile.

Kinneman, watching Darius's rough landing and subsequent grimace, felt a sudden chill of anxiety. 'Did I just lose a primordial artifact?'

Darius shot up from the ground, face scraped and grimy, his determination clear, "Again!" Pacing back to the starting line, his mind raced to solve the error.

Marcus, appearing beside him with a grin meant to hide his nerves, probed, "What went wrong? Did you slip?"

Still deep in reflection, Darius shook his head slightly. "No, it's just my trajectory was off. Old habits die hard. Just need a bit more practice, that’s all."

"How about I observe until you've got a handle on it? Maybe I'll spot something to help," Marcus suggested, watching Darius intently.

Waving him off, Darius muttered, "Sure, sure." He crouched lower, his gaze fixed on the crystal eye across the hall. 'I need to rewire my instincts here—like transforming a usual running stride into the same speed and distance with three shorter, quicker steps.'

Closing his eyes briefly, Darius shifted his mana from fire to water, murmuring, "Ebb and flow, adaptability, balance."

His eyes snapped open, and he disappeared, reappearing instantly at the hall's end. "Wrong!" he shouted, frustration evident. Without hesitation, he crouched and vanished again, reappearing at the opposite end. "Fuck!"

As Darius continued his frenetic dashes, his frustration mounted, echoing through the hall with each curse and punch at the air. "Why can't I do this?! My legs won't listen!"

"You're overthinking it," Marcus interjected, watching Darius's strained attempts. "Every time you run, your body looks awkward." He stroked his mustache thoughtfully, then his eyes widened with a realization. "You're trying to shorten your steps. Instead of focusing on shortening, aim to lengthen your strides. Try to keep your feet off the ground for less time rather than taking more steps."

Marcus reappeared at the opposite end of the hall, his expression brightening into a smile. "My fighting style leans towards fast, single attacks, emphasizing maximum speed in short bursts rather than maneuverability and endurance. Your footwork is quite different—more adaptable and uniquely yours. You shouldn't try to mimic others."

Crouching low, Darius's expression shifted, a subtle hint of realization lighting up his eyes. "Uniquely mine..."

Straightening, he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Ethereal Steps."

Darius didnt move an inch, but Marcus burst into laughter, his voice booming through the hall, as he clapped in delight while approaching Darius. "Well, I guess that's congratulations to both of us then! But tell me, what exactly are these 'Ethereal Steps'? Is it something you can teach?"

To most, it would have appeared Darius merely stood motionless. However, Marcus, with his peak Steel Knight's vision—honed as a scout—saw the astonishing truth. In a blink, Darius had crossed the hall and returned.

Inwardly marveling, Darius reflected on the technique’s simplicity and its profound effect. 'In that brief moment, my feet scarcely left the ground. It felt as though I truly gripped the earth beneath me.' With a broad smile, Darius offered a respectful bow to Marcus. "Forgive my earlier behavior. I've indeed learned much from you. Allow me the honor of sharing some of my knowledge in return."

Marcus strode forward, lifting Darius to his feet and playfully ruffling his hair, which made Darius frown slightly. "Nonsense! It was a fair wager between men. Your gratitude is appreciated, but let's leave it at that! Now, come on, let's clean up and have some dinner. Afterwards, we can discuss these Ethereal Steps of yours."

With a hearty laugh, Marcus clapped Darius on the back, guiding him towards the exit. Despite his jovial demeanor, Darius couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease, the smile on his face hiding his internal sigh, 'I might have improved, but at what cost?' Looking out a large window, the beauty of the setting sun did little to deter the thought of "befriending" a young master—and the inevitable complications that would bring—weighed heavily on him as they left the hall.

----

The next day, as the last rays of the setting sun, shined through a keyhole, Crelos pushed open the door to a apothecary shop. The bell above chimed softly as he stepped out, nodding with a polite, "Thank you again."

The shop assistant waved back, a gentle smile gracing her features. He lingered a moment, his gaze fixed on her through the shop window. Crelos walked slowly, his mind half on her warm smile as he made his way back to the estate.

He kept his aura concealed as he navigated the streets, his robes providing a comforting warmth as dusk settled in. 'This place isn't so bad. Compared to Rancitio Cordoba, there are a lot more normal humans here, fewer mages or knights.'

He let a smile touch his lips, observing the unhurried lives around him. The laughter and smiles of the passing families struck him as profoundly genuine—untouched by the usual scramble for power or political games, simply basking in each other's company.

His smile waned as a heavy thought clouded his expression. His gaze dropped to the cobblestones, a frown knitting his brows. 'Am I really about to do this?' The gravity of his mission weighed on him. 'How can I participate in taking a life, especially a woman, and on her wedding night?'

The sudden shouts from a barfight, accompanied by a mixture of cheers and laughter, snapped Crelos from his thoughts. He turned to see two drunken men trading blows, surrounded by an excited crowd.

Sighing, Crelos turned, only to be jolted as someone bumped into his shoulder. "Excuse me, I was—" he started, but before he could finish his apology, a handsome man clad in extravagant clothes with blonde hair cut him off, "Watch where you're going, dud! Your lu—"

His tirade was abruptly cut off as a large, elderly man with a flowing white beard and hair struck the younger man on the head. "Stop that!...I apologize for this peacock here," the older man said gruffly, his stern voice leaving no room for further disruption. "Just ignore him."

'Peacock?' furrowing his brow in confusion, Crelos nodded respectfully, "Thank you, sir," and resumed his walk back to the estate. Shaking off the encounter, he pushed his troubling thoughts aside, focusing instead on the path ahead, determined to return without further delay. But the brief encounter continued to nag at him, 'Why did that old man seem familiar?'

Darius held Percy aloft by the scruff of his coat, his gaze fixed on Crelos's retreating back. Giving Percy a slight shake to capture his full attention, "Percy, you can access your father's information network, can't you?"

"Yes, Dar— I mean, Feng. What do you need?" His tone a mixture of respect and fear.

Letting go of Percy's coat, Darius began walking again, hands clasped behind his back. "I need information on a particular mage. I'll give you the details once we're back at the manor."

"Yes, boss!" Percy hurried after Darius, his expression a blend of irritation and wariness as he mumbled under his breath, watching the elder's steady, leisurely stride.