Chapter 25: Resonance of Ego weapons
Several days had passed since Lady Vera hurled me through the outer dorm window like a discarded toy. The pain in my shoulder had faded to a dull ache, a constant reminder of how fragile my hold on Anki truly was.
Life in Devil Blade Academy's outer sect moved with brutal rhythm. Each dawn I woke in the cramped stone dome I shared with twenty other boys, the air thick with the smell of sweat and oiled steel. We trained until our muscles screamed, sparred until blood painted the obsidian floors, and collapsed at night only to rise again before the steel-gray sky even lightened.
The twins, Garuda and Bobaros, kept their distance for now, but I felt their eyes on me during meals and drills, Garuda's evil smile flashing whenever our paths crossed, Bobaros's stone face never changing. I ignored them. Survival came first.
Integration wasn't easy. The outer sect was a meat grinder. Students challenged one another daily for better sleeping mats, extra rations, or simply to test new techniques. I kept my head down, Anki sheathed at my side, and focused on climbing the ranks.
My body grew stronger under the relentless schedule, push-ups until my arms trembled, footwork drills across razor-lined fields, aura circulation exercises that left me dizzy. The academy fed us plain but nourishing meals laced with spirit herbs that quickened recovery. Slowly, the other outer disciples stopped staring at the blind slave who had arrived under Vice-Principal Dabara's personal escort. I became just another face in the crowd.
Just another blade being sharpened.
The real change came in the classrooms.
Every afternoon, after morning combat drills, the outer sect gathered in the Echoing Hall, a vast circular chamber carved inside the base of the main blade tower. Floating lanterns of crimson flame hovered overhead, casting long shadows that danced like dueling swords.
Today's lesson was on Ego Weapons, taught by Senior Instructor Kael, a grizzled man missing three fingers on his left hand and carrying a jagged black blade that seemed to breathe on its own.
"Listen well, worms," Kael barked, his voice echoing off the stone. "An Ego Weapon is not a tool. It is a living extension of your soul. Ordinary blades break. Ego weapons endure because they possess spirit cores, fragments of ancient wills, demon essences, or fallen gods bound into steel. The stronger the bond between wielder and weapon, the greater the power released."
He paced slowly, boots ringing. "Your blade can grow with you. It learns your fighting style, develops techniques unique to your soul signature. But beware,weak bonds can be severed. A stronger cultivator can rip an unbound ego weapon from your grasp, as many of you have already discovered the hard way."
I sat cross-legged near the front, Anki resting across my knees. The words hit like hammer strikes. Lady Vera had taken Anki so easily because our link was still raw, newly formed. I needed to change that.
Inside my mind, Anki's voice stirred, warm and steady. He speaks truth, Liam. Our soul link is there, but it is thin. Like a thread instead of a chain. She sensed me immediately because I still feel… separate.
I kept my face blank, pretending to listen only to the instructor. Then how do we make it unbreakable? I asked silently. I won't let anyone pry you away again.
Anki paused, as if searching for the right words. The academy teaches the basics today, but the true method is older. Soul Resonance. We must perform the Ritual of Eternal Anchor every night. You channel your aura into me while I push mine back into your heart meridian. Over time it creates an Ego Mark, a hidden seal inside both our essences. Once the mark forms, no one can touch me without triggering a soul backlash that would burn their meridians to ash. Even Lady Vera would hesitate.
The idea made sense. It was logical, rooted in what Kael was explaining right now. He had just moved on to the three stages of ego bonding: Recognition, Synchronization, and Ascension. We were still at Recognition.
Synchronization was where the real power began.
Show me the chant, I urged Anki.
Right there in the middle of class, while Kael demonstrated a basic aura infusion on a training blade, Anki's voice guided me through a quiet mental exercise.
I let a sliver of my aura trickle into the hilt. Anki responded with a gentle pulse, like two rivers meeting. The connection deepened for a heartbeat, warm and intimate, before settling back. It wasn't complete yet, but it was a start. No one in the hall noticed. To them I was simply meditating along with the lesson.
Kael's voice rose again. "Once bonded, your ego weapon can evolve. Some learn to return to your hand with a thought. Others develop divine techniques of their own. But remember, true divine sword arts require both a strong ego weapon and a pure soul foundation. Weak wills produce weak blades."
The second half of the lesson shifted to Divine Sword Techniques. Kael demonstrated the first form: "Severing Gale." A simple horizontal slash that carried cutting wind aura. Students rose to practice in pairs, steel clashing across the hall. I joined them, moving through the motions with Anki in hand.
Each swing felt more natural now. The blade hummed in approval, guiding my wrist angle slightly here, adding extra spin there. I could feel the soul link strengthening already, the thread thickening into something closer to rope.
We'll practice the full Anchor Ritual tonight, Anki promised. Every night until the mark appears. Then no one, not Vera, not Madam helga, not even Dabara, will ever disarm us again.
I nodded faintly, sweat beading on my brow as I executed another Severing Gale. The technique left faint cuts on the training dummies even without full power. Around me, other students struggled. Some blades refused to channel aura properly. Mine responded like a living thing.
Pride swelled in my chest, but I kept it hidden. Pride got you challenged. Strength kept you alive.
After the class ended and the lanterns dimmed, I lingered outside the Echoing Hall. The vast academy grounds stretched before me, endless training fields, distant spires, the main blade tower piercing the steel sky like a challenge. My body ached from the day's drills, but my mind burned with purpose.
The outer sect only offered basic lessons and sparring. To climb higher, to reach the inner spires where real legacies waited, I needed contribution points. And contribution points came from quests.
I turned toward the Mission hall, a squat black building at the edge of the outer sect plaza. Floating crystal tablets hovered along its walls, each one displaying glowing mission requests in blood-red script.
Students milled about, scanning for easy tasks or risky ones that paid better. I stepped inside, the air cooler here, scented with ink and old parchment.
The central board dominated the room, hundreds of quests listed by rank, reward, and danger level. Outer sect only, for now. Low-level hunts for spirit beasts in the surrounding Blade Wilds. Escort missions for academy supply caravans.
Resource gathering in dangerous crystal mines. One tablet caught my attention immediately: "Subjugate the Shadow Lurkers infesting the eastern ravine. Reward: 200 contribution points and one mid-grade pill. Danger: Moderate. Recommended for paired disciples."
Another read: "Deliver sealed demon cores to the inner academy forge. Reward: 150 points and personal training time in the outer blade forge. Solo mission."
I stood there, fingers tracing the hovering crystals, feeling their cool energy. Anki hummed softly against my side. Choose wisely, Liam. This is our first real step upward.
My heart beat faster. After days of integration, after learning the theory of ego weapons and tasting the first divine sword forms, I was ready for something real. Something that would test the growing bond between us and push me closer to the Persistent Blade legacy Dabara had promised.
I reached out, ready to claim my first quest. The real forging of my path in Devil Blade Academy was about to begin.