Shadow of the Abyss

For the next few standard days, Altair found himself engulfed in a sea of paperwork during the day, and at night, he would train tirelessly with his sword and art beneath the Endless Darkness. He would often gaze up at the stars; his curiosity piqued toward how much Babels Tower might have changed since he stormed out of its gates in a fit of rage.

He deliberately avoided asking anyone or checking for himself, his anger still smoldering. Though he had successfully gained control over the Arbiter of the first floor, he chose to withdraw his forces now since they were needed across the Outer Rim of his planet.

Presently, he was outside beneath the endless night within the Eternal Garden, secretly watching Medussa tend to the colony of crops from a distance. A playful smile was present on her lips as she knelt over the mud, watering a particular herb—one he didn't recognize.

He smiled before teleporting into the Training Hall, which was nearly a few hundred meters in length, width, and height. Ancient weapons that had lost their power hung across the wall, each masterly forged by ancient methods that predated the Age of Mist, ebbing to the Era of Creation.

As Altair appeared, he opened his palm, and the thrum of his Vale Sword reached his ears. He took a deep breath before losing himself in the Seven Forms of Grave of End without the use of mana.

Ever since he returned from the Lake of Rot, Altair had found Mana to be a distraction from the Sword. A falsity he knew, and yet he felt the path he'd chosen was the one he needed to travel. Mana, the lifeblood of power itself in all mortals, had betrayed him and had been stripped from his body the day he'd fallen within the depths of the Lake of Rot.

For ten long years, Altair had lived without Mana, touched only by the presence of the Vale within his Astral Sea.

The Vale Sword in his hand hadn't been forged through the mana he held within his Three Circle, which he'd transfigured into Vale Qi, but had come from the very depths of his being, from the pulsing organ beneath the navel, the Dantain.

Lessons regarding the Vale and how it could be used had been his focus each evening with Raven lately. However, as of late, he had been feeling his Vale Qi reserve, if it could be called reserve, growing and recovering like a living entity, allowing him to train longer.

Even so, the feel of his sword felt—

"Wrong," said a calm, commanding voice.

Thanatos, the owner, walked inside."Don't stop the movement. Open your domain and keep it up. Any swordsman worth his salt knows this. Good. How's that feel?"

"Better," Altair admitted, sensing the flow of his blades' movements breeze across space.

"Now shrink your domain. A domain should be no bigger than fifty meters. It's the sign of a master. Always keep your range hidden. Ideally, against weaker foes, 15m is your best bet."

Altair silently nodded, instinctually bringing his domain down to fifteen.

Thanatos nodded. "Good. A large domain sucks away more of your spirit than necessary. Now, then… allow me to be blunt. Your sword is the most beautifully disgusting blade I've ever seen in my life."

Altair nearly dropped, shooting his mentor an eye.

"Don't look at me like that. It's true. But I don't blame you. Rather, your irresponsible master. I'm not a sword master, but you, Altair, have not mastered the Intermediate, advanced, or expert level of the Sword. It clearly shows.

You've jumped straight to the level we gods stand within."

Altair was about to stall his movement when he heard Thanatos's voice ring across his ear. "Don't stop. "This is why I hate this system. It reduces the path of anything to a single letter. You have jumped multiple levels in the way of the sword. It really hurts to imagine how you got so good."

"So I'm going to teach you about the Sword Path. Your Uncle Zariel created this when he was a child, and later, it became a staple of all masters, myself included."

"He taught you?"

"No. The Sword Path was such a profound concept he'd created that it echoed across the Dao. At that moment, everyone who had an understanding of the sword, or any blade for that matter, felt a profound resonance in them."

Altair stopped. Turning to face Thanatos' half smile. "Such a thing is possible?" he asked in awe.

"Oh yes. You should have seen the face of my Father that day. He stopped as if struck by a sudden enlightenment as he said, 'The Silver Devil, Zariel Snow, has returned.' Thanatos shook his head, amused. Perhaps it was pride or one of his schemes, but Zariel had wanted everyone to know he had created something beyond their understanding.

All across the Twelve Realm, and, sure enough, the Myriad Heavens echoed the name Zariel Snow."

Altair's fist clenched. "What is this Sword Path?"

"In a sense, it's the collective consciousness of perfection towards the sword. Much like the Realm of Spirits, which allows you to be all-knowing, the Sword Path was a more focused entity that everyone could access. But it's limited to your perception.'

"My Perception?" Altair said.

"Yes. The Sword Path can't compare to your being omniscient at times, but it allows you to seek perfection if such a thing is possible. In a sense, you'll be seeking an end to infinity."

Altair's eyes opened wide. 'To seek the End of Infinity?' Was such a thing possible? Did it

"But that's…"

Thanatos nodded. "Correct. It's Madness. But that was Zariel. I can't imagine the level of skill that Bastard has obtained now, but Zariel decided to walk that path." He took a deep breath, looking at the astonished face, and managed a smile. "The sword Path does not push you past your limit.

Rather, it is there to show you the Infinite Paths of the Sword based on your level of skill and, in a sense, your perception."

"'How do I do it?"

Thanatos lifted five fingers. "There are five requirements for seeing the Sword Path. One is that you must have a sturdy domain, which you have. Second, you must be able to push yourself into the very world itself. The third is to imbue your sword with your Sword Spirit. The Fourth is to possess harmony between yourself and your sword.

And lastly, and probably the most essential part of it, the desire to seek perfection."

"You said Sword Spirit. What do you mean by that?"

"The Sword Spirt… Hmmm. How do I explain that one?" He paused, thinking it over. "What is the Aura called?"

'Sword of the Abyss, why….oh!"

"That is your Sword Spirit. It's the embodiment of your soul, the living entity that embodies your existence. It's easy to forget, but that power did not come from the system. But through your lived experience. You pulled it from your soul. Understand?"

"I think so.…" Altair said hesitantly. " Can I ask this? What realm was Zariel in when he created this technique?"

'Realm?' Thanatos tilted his head. "I'm not sure. But he was mortal. And about… let's see. Fifteen years old when he first created the Sword Path."

The Vale Sword in Altair's palm shattered into a wisp of Vale Qi that later vanished into the ether of time and space.

His fingers clenched even tighter, finding blood. "But that's…"

Thanatos nodded. "Altair, in many ways, you are like Zariel but opposite to him. He had the ability to see the Weave, to see the face of creation, but he had to work tirelessly to understand the nature of each string. You just know. How far are you coming along with your Realm of Spirit?"

"Every time I open my domain, I feel knowledge constantly fluttering through me. It's why I don't like training with it—"

'Then you're a damn fool. Knowledge, Altair is power. Even if it feels like you are cheating or trivializing the world around you, that ability is what has made you who you are today. Tomorrow, you will be facing Gods. True living, breathing Gods. Monsters that carry with them a limited sense of omniscience.

You have barely tapped into the Realm of Spirit. And who knows when Azura might summon you. Even if it hurts, unless it's killing you, and even then, you need to maintain a perpetual state within your domain. "

Thanatos sighed, turning away. He was about to take his leave when he said, "I'll let you figure out the rest. With your partial omniscience, you ought to figure it out in a few hours, maybe minutes." He waved before he was gone.

Amidst the silence within in his domain, Altair shuddered as knowledge of inscribable knowing flowed through his sea of consciousness; like a droplet of water, it stuck against the Black Lake, causing ripples to flow across its smooth surface.

Altair felt a sudden calmness wash over him, like the stillness that descends upon a forest when the breeze dies down. Suddenly, he felt a weighted pressure swelling within his Spirit Domain.

As if he was sinking into the water, his hair slowly began to sway with the motion of his current, pulling and pushing.

'I'm falling,' he thought, his eyes seemingly peering past the realm around him towards an ocean, a great sea beyond the stars. He blinked as the sensation sinking through the ethereal waters around him filled him.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he stopped, breathing in the strange, viscous liquid around him like air. It had been instinctual as if he knew there was nothing to worry about.

"Show me," he said, or perhaps commanded. He wasn't sure. "Show me my Sword Path."

As the Emperor stood still amidst the swirling waters, a mysterious mist-like effect started to emerge around him. The waters began to take shape and form, revealing a series of intricate pathways around him, each one seemingly crafted with the precision of a master swordsman.

The pathways seemed to be getting more and more refined with each passing moment as if the Emperor's very presence was imbuing them with a sense of purpose and direction.

He stared, recognizing Grave of End, his sword technique expanding to a level that sought to approach infinity itself. He shuddered, returning to himself, within his training hall, to where the lines now seemed to stretch across his Domain.

Altair drew a deep breath and began the Seven Movements within Gave of End, unaware of the synergy between the Realm of Spirits and the Sword Paths he was following.