ALL NOVEL 56 – The General Performs a Legendary Technique
Chapter 56 - The General Performs a Legendary Technique
Nathan Evenhart:
I spent a few days reflecting on what Professor Adrihna had shared with me, and it affected me deeply. She had entrusted me with a secret about her species and, at the same time, about herself. It was the dilemma she faced every day when she woke up—the fear of loving something only to lose it. That was the barrier that might have been preventing her from breaking through her emotional restraint. A High Elf’s emotions were locked away, and they believed themselves to be inherently selfish, but in truth, that was a defense mechanism.
How could a being that lived for 300 years endure a lifetime of suffering from the loss of what they had learned to love? Perhaps that’s why they only reproduced among themselves.
The truth I discovered was that a High Elf wasn’t a selfish being devoid of emotions; quite the opposite... It was precisely because they felt emotions so deeply that they shut themselves off from the world. A High Elf didn’t want to be emotionally hurt because they wouldn’t know how to cope with the loss of what they loved most.
This, in some way, was ingrained in them as a defense mechanism, and that’s how they lived.
I knew exactly what she feared going through... I had lost what I loved and lived for centuries with that void that was never filled... Time is a curse when you’re left alone with it.
I pushed those thoughts aside and got out of bed to resume my training. I didn’t want to deal with that right now; I had a new life.
I went over to my desk and pulled out a cup that I had stored in the drawer.
"I still have to go downstairs and visit the spoiled phoenix, or I’ll suffer her deadly hugs if I don’t make my daily visit."
It was hard to bring Cylla to my room since Kinue was always wandering around the mansion, and at night, she started sleeping with Chloe.
We had our rooms in the castle, but we spent more time here, and the little fox girl also enjoyed staying, though she didn’t understand why we kept everything dark.
Luckily, we were allowed to light the ceiling globes because we understood the responsibility of keeping them off at night. Only our room had light, and the corridors remained dark because of the Carnellian. Aunt Margie taught Chloe and me how to activate the white light globe in our rooms, so we had light instead of lamps or torches. We were mature enough to understand that we had to turn off the light when we went to sleep, and we were also raised not to be afraid of the dark. It seemed that this was also part of the assassin’s training. The child was supposed to grow up accustomed to darkness, so fear wouldn’t affect us. Not that I would ever be afraid of the dark... but I noticed that Chloe, even at eight years old, walked through dark corridors normally, something a child her age would never do alone.
I looked back at the cup and focused.
"If Carnellian can do this with mana, then so can I! Even without Aura, I’ll master this technique!"
Sifu:
I’m on my way to visit my little student—or should I call him my teacher? I feel like I've learned more about sword fighting from him than what I’m actually teaching. Young Master Nathan has a unique talent for battle, and despite being completely disadvantaged due to his size and the lack of strength in his arms, he’s been compensating with agility. Gradually, the boy is improving; it’s almost as if he’s trying to get used to fighting in his smaller body, as though he’s accustomed to being taller.
To avoid accidents... with me, I had to give the boy a knife while I used a sword.
That’s why I had to go back to teaching Kung Fu. Trying to train him with swords will only hinder his style.
In the midst of some fights, he would make certain movements with his fists and then complain about it being a habit from the fighting style he seems to have been born knowing.
Soon, I’ll start teaching him the art of assassination, and we’ll finally be able to stop playing around and move on to the real art of battle.
His training has been interrupted lately because he’s been focusing solely on learning to “crawl” his mana, so that later he can do it automatically. But I decided to check in on him and see how he’s doing.
As soon as I open the door to his room, I see something strange. He’s standing there, staring intently at a glass cup on the floor.
“Is this some kind of training for your Mana Gem?” I ask after watching him, focused, for quite a while.
“Ah! It almost worked…” he grumbled. “I was trying to make the glass explode with my gaze.”
I let out a small laugh.
“Very funny, young master. Did you read that in one of my books from the storage?”
“No. Most of your books are all about calming the mind. What I’m trying to do is channel my killing intent into the glass.”
I scratch my head.
I can’t believe he’s attempting this. How did he even learn about this method?
“Did you know there was a branch of ancient monks who tried to master this technique? Unfortunately, it was lost long ago. You can try to release your killing intent, but to make it manifest like this was something even my teachers couldn’t figure out. An ancient monk succeeded and died taking the secret with him. Although it can be done with Aura, it’s not the same thing,” I explain.
“With Aura, it would be an evolution of this technique. Trying to skip the basic step will result in a flawed technique if it’s used with Aura. You first need to master it with just your gaze, and only then move on to Aura.”
Hmm...
“That was the essence of the monk’s secret, but the technique died with him. My teachers spent their entire lives living with snakes, trying to mimic their gaze, but they never succeeded,” I say.
“Mimic the gaze of a snake? They misunderstood… the key isn’t to imitate the gaze.”
I let out a small laugh.
“Those were legendary Kung Fu masters, even I couldn’t surpass them. They were only defeated because they embraced peace with a sacred vow of non-combat. You can’t simply say they were wrong; not even the best of them mastered the killing gaze technique,” I say.
Young master, even with your talent, it’s impossible to surpass what the ancient monks’ organization tried and failed to achieve for centuries.
“The secret isn’t to try to imitate the animal’s gaze, but to make it fear your gaze. If you try to mimic the gaze, you’ll fail. It’s similar to when a bear charges at you, and you have to stand still and wave your arms to make it think you’re bigger than it is; you need to frighten a powerful animal. If you can instill fear in a powerful animal in a situation where your death seems certain, then you’ve mastered the killing gaze,” he told me.
What? Is he saying that’s how you master this? That can’t be possible...
“And which animal would you have to scare while standing before it?” I ask, laughing.
“A tiger. You need to be face to face with a hungry tiger,” he replied.
“It’s a good theory, but as I said… not even the best monks were able to replicate this lost technique.”
He sighed.
“I understand, I’m having difficulty too… even though I know the fundamentals,” he said, disappointed, as he left the room to return to his magic training.
I spent some time pondering what he had told me.
“Scaring a hungry tiger? That’s madness, even for the legendary ancient monks…” I say, laughing.
I head toward the door to leave the room.
‘Snap’—a strange sound echoes in the room.
“What was that?” I glance around.
“Cylla, are you around here?” I ask.
I look under the bed, but there’s nothing there.
“Weird…”
As I take a closer look, the glass cup suddenly shatters.
“WHAT!?” I shout in surprise.
I rush over to the remains of the glass.
“Impossible… did he really manage to break the glass with just his gaze?”