The Power of Ten, Book Three : The Human Race

He let me clunk myself about the legs and arms a few more times before noting he’d like my assessment, waved me to the side, and took up position in the center of the courtyard.

I was a bit surprised to see that he was a Melee Primary. Then again, why not? With firearms, everyone was doing it, and they were powerful enough that skill actually wasn’t as required as it would be with older weapons. People tended to pay less attention and devalue personal combat skills in a modern age, which meant they weren’t very prepared to be attacked by a professional swordsman with a magic Sword who knew how to use it.

He took his heavy jacket off for this, and by the clunking when he set it down, I realized the thing was actually weighted with striker plates to deflect gunfire. I listened to the sounds of his feet get louder as he walked out, and saw the faint shimmer of his Wrath... he was evoking a Tier Four Angelweight, increasing his weight by a factor of five.

So, right now he weighed at least half a ton, by his build. I stood there and watched.

I couldn’t quite grasp the intrinsics of what and how he was doing, but I could easily compare and contrast, even if I didn’t have an Assay.

He started with drawcuts, and it was obvious that the speed draw for his gun came from his sword.

He didn’t have the oiled, smooth flow of someone who’d worked with a sword since they were young. He was on the stiff side, more mechanically precise than fluid, and was visibly laboring under the high-G field he created for himself.

His Sword was obviously a Warlock’s Sword. There were seven Runes active down the dark middle of the Sword, one for each die of his Wrath, glowing Gold, Gold, Gold, Gold, Hellfire, Lightning, and jagged crystalline, respectively. Only the very edge of the Sword glinted silver, the rest was black adamant.

Energized tungsten was not light, and I was pretty sure that was pure, not an alloy of overlay around a core of lighter metal. He was toting around a Heavy Bastard Sword with a yard-long straight blade, which you couldn’t even wield effectively without a Might of 23, and he was currently doing so under five gravities.

He was wearing a plain white T-Shirt, probably because they were easy to replace, so I could see his arms. I could see the razor lines of healed wounds across them, very fine but apparent if you knew what to look for... and clearly left there, as he should have been able to mend them away with the Wrath.

He was tall and wide-shouldered, but without his jacket on, he actually looked on the lean side, especially his arms. I’d been expecting a bulky upper body for wielding a melee weapon, but instead he had been cut down and compressed like hardened metal, saving mass against the high g’s, and he was so toned he looked like he was made of pounded bronze at this point.

I also noted another hellscar glowing very faintly on his abdomen, and leading below his belt. I thought about that, winced to myself, and watched his technique.

There was no doubt he’d put a lot of time and practice into his sword technique, and even though it currently probably weighed over sixty pounds, he was moving that Sword around like a willow wand, more than heavy enough to offset its own weight, and more than strong enough to use it. Might allowed him to use it like a normal swordsman might use a lighter weapon, but Power allowed him to move it fast, and he was clearly moving it at a speed that no normal human could possibly control or exert themselves at.

I watched him practice drawcuts, noting his Weapon could Morph, and he could no-look sheathe without missing, every time.

When he was finally done with the iado, he started on forms.

This wasn’t flashy, showy stuff at all. Most people watching would have been bored stiff at the monotonous repetition, failing to see the minor alterations in the moves, just how precise the footwork was, and the steadiness he was wielding his weapon with.

There was no profoundness in his swordwork, which I chalked up to lack of an instructor. If you didn’t know swordwork could be profound, and didn’t have the qualifying foundation to make it that way, it wasn’t going to just happen.

He had an ideal foundation for an Ocean/Crystal practitioner, a Glacier stylist, but I was not, and Aelryinth had not been, a true Profound Practitioner. My exposure was mostly to Sun and Moon, and that was purely to take advantage of my Concentration Ranks, for the most part. It didn’t mean Ael couldn’t fight, but he had cheated, just like any good Wizard would.

Getting something from nothing was hard, even with Karma. I was essentially rebuilding, and whatever the Curse was doing with these new Class Levels, there was basically very little ‘new’ happening at all. It was just applying the shadows of remembered skills and abilities in new patterns according to a different paradigm.

And I wanted it to stop, but it wasn’t doing so.

Master Fred got done with his basic katas, and only breathing a little hard, looked at me.

“Show me your short-gripping piercing techniques,” I instructed him. His blade was specifically ridged to allow it to grip the first ten inches or so, turning it into a short spear.

A bit surprised, he spun it into a short-hafting grip, and went through a complete set of maneuvers as I watched closely.

“Okay, show me your practice open hand katas. Go as deep as you care to go.”

Probably wondering what I was about, he proceeded to the open-hand portion of this demonstration.

It was not a fancy style, although it didn’t ignore long kicks, given the force they could deliver for finishing blows. His style was definitely designed to defend himself against something that got in close on him, and given how strong he was, it was definitely going to punish them. It was brutal, effective, and practical, and given that he could blow the Wrath out of any of his limbs at any time, pretty damn dangerous.

Again, it lacked a profound edge, although it was definitely useful.

He finished up after a good fifteen minutes of exercises designed to build muscle memory, and was definitely sweating some by now.

I nodded at him. “That’s not bad. Of course, I can’t see all the tricks and traits, but you’ve got a solid foundation. Your biggest weakness is lack of profound techniques at this point. I can see you’re a solid sword specialist and close-fighter. Reinforcing that aptitude would benefit you immensely. Do you have Monk Levels? You need some Ki reinforcement.”

NO, he answered thoughtfully. TIME AND PRACTICE REQUIREMENTS..., he admitted ruefully.

“So you have been exposed to them by senior practitioners, and know something of them?” I pressed further.

YES. WAS THROWN THROUGH A LOT OF WALLS BY THEM.

He must have been talking about chi-wielders, but since chi was a higher form of ki, it would suffice. “Karma will take care of the problem. If you have the Karma, take the Enlightened variant of Monk.

“Ignore Stunning Fist and swap it for Profound Specialized Weapon. For your Bonus Feat, take Crystal Dragon Mastery/1, it’s an Earth-based style you should be roughly familiar with. It will grant you bonus ki and open up the basic Crystal Dragon styles. In this precise order, take Way of Iron Mastery/1, then buy the Power Feat Way of Crystal I, and tie it to Way of Iron.”

He looked elsewhere, his brow furrowing, and seemed rather startled when he was actually successful. I could vaguely feel the quiet wash of gathering ki as his dantian spontaneously opened, probably with quiet help from his Heavenbound Pact.

I was watching his feet. The way the dust hummed and moved around his boots was definitely an indicator of Crystal Dragon ki at work.

THIS... He held up his hands, and there was just a flicker of motion, and his Sword was in his hand.

There was a crystalline flux to the edge of it, small but there.

“You’re familiar with how a Monk’s open hand damage increases with their ki and Level.” He nodded slowly. “Specialized Profound Weapon applies that bonus to all your Specialized Weapons, and ties it to your Attack Bonus, not your Monk Level. So, your Sword has two damage advances, and cuts past its edge right now. At Seven, it will increase again.”

IMPRESSIVE... he worded, and meant it.

“As a percentage, not really, but more damage is more damage. The advance at Seven is the big one, although you can bump it forward by taking the Superior Unarmed Strike Feat. However, for you, the key is the Ways of Iron and Crystal stacking.”

I CAN FEEL SOMETHING, BUT I DO NOT KNOW WHAT...

“There’s a pool of ki in your gut you should be able to feel.” He nodded slowly. “You should move as much as you can into the Armor of Heaven.”

He glanced at me again, then concentrated, focusing on moving the crystalline energy in his gut and moving it over into that part of the Ward that concentrated on damage reduction for its Pactholders. It wasn’t much at his level, maybe 3 points of DR/Good.

But it was going to get better very quickly, if he had the Karma.

IT BLENDED RIGHT INTO IT. The words flickered around a little longer than usual.

“Crystal Dragon Way of Iron Damage Reduction stacks with ALL other forms of Damage Reduction. Each Way of Iron advance is DR 1/-. Each Way of Crystal you take every third level is +2 to a chosen Damage Reduction.”

WHICH YOU NATURALLY ASSIGN TO WAY OF IRON..., he saw instantly.

“Yes. You should be able to take Way of Crystal twice, and advance Way of Iron thrice more.”

He could do the math easily enough. His Damage Reduction was going to receive a major shot in the arm!

“However, you have to pay for them in ki, and you’ll need Crystal Dragon Mastery for each tier, too. So you’ll have to take Extra Ki, the Feat, which opens up the Ki Mastery, and build that up, as well.”

NOT QUICK, BUT STEADY PROGRESS, he noted, closing his fist. The popping of his knuckles was noticeably louder.

“Yes. Also, may I examine your Sword?”

He walked over and handed it to me, balancing it on his hands. I didn’t actually pick it up, just called up the Identify spell from my Arcane Bloodline, and touched it.

I read the complete structure of it in a heartbeat. If it had a command word, I would have learned that, too.

+III Blessed Warlock’s Sword. Nothing fancy, a holy Sword in the hands of a Heavenbound. Still the most potent Weapon I’d seen in this world yet.

No Arsenal. No Slaughter. QL 32 made, Dwarfwork, or at least the Dwarven style, by the tone of it, but his was the only hammer that had touched it... Adamantine, heavy as hell, and Mnecromonic. Anyone who touched it could feel everything its wielder had ever killed... and naturally I was part of anyone.

Its name was Idiot.