Guardian's Farm 26

“I’m sorry, I just…” Eli said once he calmed down.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I said. “I have seen fighters with a decade of experience shatter worse from less. You’re a brave kid, Eli.”

“T-thanks, master —” he started, then paused, suddenly self-conscious.

“Yes, you can still call me that,” I said, recognizing the source of his hesitation. “Nothing has changed there as long as you don’t change your mind.”

Especially since he would be living here until I was confident he could survive traveling alone. Adventuring might have been a mere preference before, but at this point, it was an inevitability. He could never show his face around the town — nor throughout the entirety of the Southern border, just to be safe — without risking his life.

But, I delayed that conversation. It was not the time.

“T-thanks, master,” he stammered shyly.

“Good. Now, do you want me to teach you about Eternal Sun Spear, properly this time?” The suggestion had two aims. One was to distract him from the larger implications of everything he had just learned. The other was to make him stronger.

The stronger he felt, the less scared he would be.

His eyes widened. “Yes, master,” he declared.

“First, a history lesson, then.” He looked disappointed. I chuckled. “It’s not just trivia to sate your curiosity. The roots of a technique could be as important as the technique itself. It helps you to understand and comprehend the core intent behind the technique, which can be critical in improving once you start actively generating internal energy.”

“Really?” he questioned. “I never heard something like that.”

“It’s not very well known,” I said even as I raised my finger, and let a touch of internal energy loose by channeling Eternal Sun Spear. The bright yellow blossomed on my finger, distorting the shadows around us. “But, it’ll be very useful when using the internal energy actively to imbue your weapon.”

He gasped. “T-that’s …” he stammered. “Only the guards of the baron could use it like that, I heard.”

“Outward reflection is tricky. It’s difficult to truly master, but it’s not too difficult to get started, as long as you have a technique that allows outward representation” I said.

“Really?” he asked.

I kept the finger up in a cautionary manner after letting the glow extinguish. “Yes, but we won’t be moving onto it immediately. There are several phases before. First, your body needs to start generating internal energy. Then, you need to be able to actually feel it. Then, comes the phase of transformation, followed by internal use. Only when all four stages are satisfactorily complete, we’re going to work on the fifth phase. Outward reflection is an excellent offensive weapon, but it can be just as deadly for its users as the user’s target.”

My voice might have been sharper than I intended, because he flinched. “Is it the source of your injuries, master?”

“Yes,” I admitted. Particularly, they were from where I had tried to connect the fourth and fifth stages in a novel way to push through my limits, responsible for most of my injuries. Devastating, but I couldn’t regret it. It allowed me to deliver the finishing blow, after all. “That’s why we’re going to make sure you don’t skip a step and ruin yourself. Understood?”

“As you wish, master,” he said, his excitement enough to blunt his earlier somber mood, showing that the resilience of youth was hard to beat. His panic was momentarily forgotten. It would inevitably return, but I hoped it would take a bit of time.

“Good,” I said and shuffled on the tree stump I was sitting on, trying to get more comfortable. We would have to stay here until Sage returned, and teaching him properly was better than trying to run around, searching for a clue.

I was a decent scout, but not enough to find others through the endless wilderness.

I gestured for him to pass his spear. He did.

 “The Eternal Sun Spear dates back to an era before the Empire,” I began, running a hand over its shaft, a pensive gesture.

“Before the empire,” he asked, shocked.

“Yes. It’s truly ancient. When it was still active, elven kingdoms were the greatest power, long before they retreated to their forests and hidden cities.”

His eyes widened. “There were that many elves? What happened.”

I shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t know,” I admitted. “El — My elven friends clamped up whenever it was mentioned, so I never got any answer,” I said. I had also given a cursory search in the library out of curiosity after the war, but stopped once I failed to find anything.

History never had been my passion other than trying to dig out some of the ancient techniques.

“Roots of the technique go back to the days when humans were split between tribes and small city states, scrabbling for land and resources at the edge of civilization. Back then, warfare was constant, and it was a messy business. No overarching laws, no single throne to answer to. No different than a bunch of rowing bands of bandits.”

Eli nodded slowly, not interrupting.

“The Eternal Sun Spear was developed by one of the smaller tribes. Tribe Solinar, to be exact. While they were smaller, they were led by a visionary, who not only developed the technique but also raised a group of warriors dedicated to protecting other humans who tried to spread into the wilderness, both from the magical threats and other humans. They called themselves the Guardians of the Sun because they burned evil just like the Sun. Or, at least, that was what they claimed.”

“Really? Sounds idealistic.”

I shrugged. “The truth is probably uglier, but one thing was certain. They picked an unconventional path. Instead of fighting with other human tribes and cities for land, they expanded into wilderness, using the technique to expand rather than try and conquer other tribes.”

“And that worked?” Eli asked curiously.

“To some degree,” I admitted. “Ultimately, the growing empire had swallowed them as well, but they were one of the last nations to be absorbed by the Empire, and that came with many privileges. Overall, it was quite successful.”

He nodded.

I stood up, making a simple stab with the spear, using the Eternal Sun Spear. “Their spear specialization was not by accident. Not the best weapon for a duel, maybe, but it’s equally effective against humans and the beasts. It could be used alone, or leveraged as an army. Most importantly, the technique had enough explosive power to not need fancy magic weapons. Armed with basic, sturdy weapons, they harnessed their style, sweeping arcs with explosive thrusts.”

“Is this why you were always criticizing my basic thrust?” he asked.

“Yes. A strong, direct thrust, as certain and unstoppable as the sunrise itself, was the root of their philosophy.”

“That was enough to forge a kingdom that even the Empire needed to take seriously?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” I admitted. “What I taught you is the common variant, the only one we know. It’s still an excellent technique, but its advantage lies in its relatively easy adaptation. Most techniques either require training for a decade, or have side effects that’s best avoided.”

Indomitable Blade was a particularly horrible example of the latter, as my body could attest.

“Their strength relied on their elites, who used an advanced variant of the technique. According to the tales, they were using weapons made of solid gold, their destructive capability unmatched as they imitated the endless power of the sun. They were supposedly unmatched, but their technique is long gone.”

Eli sighed. I could understand his disappointment. It was never easy to accept the limitations of techniques being forced into one’s fate.

“You don’t have to be limited to it,” I suggested. “Fighter techniques are not like mages, solid and impossible to change. You can always learn other techniques to supplement or even surpass it. But, I recommend you stick to it until you reach the fourth stage and use it to enhance yourself directly. That way, you can adapt your next technique faster.”

“It does?”

“Yes. It took me a decade to truly master my first technique, but nowadays, a month is more than enough for most…” I said. Frustratingly, the exception was Serene Leaf. It had been three months, and let alone mastering, I couldn’t even properly handle generating internal energy through it. I continued to practice but, at this point, it was less about controlling my might, and more about sheer stubbornness.

I hadn’t been called Grand Guardian for nothing.

“I trust you, master,” he declared.

I couldn’t help but smile at that. It was a simple yet honest declaration, so much different than everything I had to deal with at that cesspool of a capital. Despite everything, I didn’t regret coming here.