Second Movement

Currently, my Grade 6 art had only one movement. Considering that some arts at this level had as many as six movements, mine was still far from complete.

But that was to be expected.

Training under Valerie had made me realize something important—I couldn't just copy Lucifer's Grade 6 art from the novel. That path wasn't mine to take.

A true Grade 6 art had to be a manifestation of myself.

My ideals. My beliefs. My experiences.

Everything that made me who I was needed to be channeled into the art for it to reach that level. Only then could it evolve, only then could it truly belong to me.

I was certain Magnus had more in store for me, and the ordeal of starvation he put me through was just a piece of his broader plan. Yet, from that experience, I had managed to grasp the essence of what my second movement could be.

It wasn't just about power; it was about embracing the emptiness, the hollowness that resided within, and turning that into strength. 

Taking a deep breath, I walked back into the makeshift training grounds, my muscles still sore from the earlier workouts. Magnus was waiting, leaning against a rock, his eyes sharp and assessing.

"Ready to continue?" he asked, his voice almost casual, though I could sense the intent behind it.

I nodded. There was no room for hesitation. I had to forge my own path, make my art mine. And Magnus was here to guide me, even if his methods were harsh.

"Good. Today, we'll begin with something different," he said, pushing off from the rock and pointing to a pile of large stones. "We'll work on bringing out the essence of your second movement. Think of what you've learned from hunger, and let that guide your strikes."

I stared at the stones, my mind already considering the possibilities. It wasn't just about attacking—it was about channeling everything I had into a single, efficient action. A movement born from the feeling of being stripped of everything, a movement designed to strike with absolute precision.

Magnus's gaze bore into me, his expectations clear. He wanted to see if I had truly learned, if I could put my experiences into practice.

I walked up to the stones, reaching out and placing my hand on the rough surface of one of them. I took a deep breath, feeling the flow of mana within me, the emptiness I had embraced during those days of starvation. 

It was time to shape that into something tangible—into *Hollow Strike*, the next step on the path of my Grade 6 art. 

The air around me seemed to still as I focused, channeling the intent, the feeling of hollowness that had become familiar. I would take that emptiness, and from it, create power.

"Not bad," Magnus said, his voice holding a hint of approval. "It will take time, and you need more exposure to the feeling of deprivation, but you should have a second movement ready by the time you're in your third year."

I nodded in acknowledgment. Developing more movements was crucial—not only to increase the versatility of my attacks but also to make my art more adaptable to different situations.

More than that, a complete Grade 6 art was something that transcended ordinary swordsmanship. It could mean the difference between victory and defeat against the kind of opponents I would face in the future.

'I also need to learn more 5-circle spells,' I thought, making a mental note. Since reaching White-rank, my mana capacity allowed me to use the most powerful 5-circle spells—especially if I activated Lucent Harmony to further boost my control and efficiency.

Magnus watched me in silence, as if reading my thoughts. "You're strong, Arthur, but remember—strength alone is never enough. Your versatility is what will set you apart. Diversify your skills, but refine each one to perfection."

I looked at him, meeting his intense gaze. He wasn't just talking about swordsmanship or magic. Magnus wanted me to be ready for anything—any challenge, any enemy, any situation. That was why his training was so grueling, why every day felt like a new test of my limits.

"Understood," I replied, determination surging within me.

"Good." Magnus gave a curt nod and then pointed towards the woods. "For now, we focus on survival. You're going back in there tonight. No mana, no assistance. Use only what you've got in here." He tapped his temple. "Hone your instincts."

"Another night in the woods?" I muttered, though I didn't complain. The last few nights had taught me more about survival and my limits than anything else.

Magnus smirked. "Another night, and maybe more. Remember—each struggle is an opportunity. Face it well."

I took a deep breath, glancing at the darkening treeline. The Amarion Rainforest was unforgiving, but it was exactly the kind of place I needed to be. The beasts that roamed there would push me, and if I wanted to grow stronger, I couldn't shy away from the challenge.

"Alright," I said, adjusting my grip on my practice sword. Without another word, I turned and began walking towards the woods, the weight of Magnus's expectations settling on my shoulders.

Tonight, the goal was to refine what I'd learned—to take the hollowness I had felt, the hunger, and shape it into something useful. To mold it into a weapon that would serve me.

As I disappeared into the forest, I felt Luna's presence at the back of my mind, a soft warmth that reassured me.

'Be careful, Arthur,' she whispered. 'And remember, the emptiness you feel—embrace it. It will be the key to unlocking your next movement.'

I nodded, even though no one could see me, and with a steady breath, I stepped deeper into the woods. The air was thick with anticipation, and the rustle of leaves was the only sound as night began to settle in. This was my crucible, my place of growth.

And I would conquer it—one step at a time.