imitation chapter (19)

Riven's words hung in the air as he grinned excitedly. "Ooo, father told me your master is coming back!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Rudra looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Master?"

Riven's smile faltered slightly as he glanced at Rudra. "Ah, you don't know, do you? Ray's been taught by his master, Edhir, since he was a child. For years, really. But after... an incident happened with Ray, he stopped coming out of his room. Then his master just left, saying Ray needed time to think." His tone became more subdued, as though the memory weighed heavily on him. "It was normal for him to leave, I think. He couldn't do anything about it. I think he felt guilty, though. For Ray."

Rudra, however, was not interested in Ray's past. His face remained stoic as he processed the information, but his mind was elsewhere. The idea of a master—someone to teach and guide—seemed strange to him. He was from a different world, where survival didn't depend on the mentorship of a powerful master. It was a normal part of life for the noble children, yes, but Rudra had never experienced that. His world was a far cry from that of noble children or even royalty. It was all so foreign to him.

Riven, oblivious to Rudra's disinterest, glanced at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You've got something strong now," he said, pointing to the sword Rudra held. "What do you say we start with some light sparring?"

Rudra glanced at him, his expression unreadable. Sparring? The thought seemed ridiculous. Even if he were to clash blades with someone like Riven, he knew he would end up injured. Why bother with something that was destined to end in pain? Especially with the kind of power Riven seemed to possess—it wasn't worth wasting his energy.

But then, something about Riven's movements—the way he wielded his blade—caught Rudra's attention. There was a certain elegance, a fluidity to it that seemed to transcend combat. It wasn't just fighting—it was an art. Rudra's curiosity flickered, even if he was reluctant to admit it.

"I would like to learn the dance," Rudra said, after a brief pause. His voice was flat, but there was a glint of genuine interest in his eyes.

Riven blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sudden shift in Rudra's demeanor. "The dance? Oh! You mean the sword formations?" he asked, his tone a little more serious now.

Rudra nodded.

Riven flinched slightly, as if he had remembered something important. He turned to Ray with a sudden shift in his expression. "Hey, Ray, there's something I forgot to mention."

Ray, who had been quietly observing the conversation, looked up, his curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Riven's face grew more serious, his voice lowering to a tone of caution. "You know, right? The other kingdoms' gateways to the worlds… the keys are broken. Last year, only our kingdom kept it."

Ray's expression darkened as he pieced the information together. "So... when did it happen?" he asked, his voice growing grim.

"Last year," Riven answered simply, his face shadowed by the weight of the words.

Ray's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly understood the implications. "So all the other kingdoms' princes and royal families, children my age... they're coming here in a few days?"

Riven's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Wow, exactly! You got it!"

Rudra, who had been silently absorbing the conversation, broke in with a cold, detached voice. "What will happen when the children of other kingdoms arrive?"

Riven's face lit up with excitement as he responded, "It's going to be exciting for you and Ray!" His voice had a certain gleam to it, but Rudra's words cut through the excitement like a blade.

"How come?" Rudra asked, his tone flat and unassuming.

Riven's eyes sparkled as he explained. "All the kingdoms envy us because of Ray. " as he has something that they don't have "

Ray flinched at the praise, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "Don't believe all that," he muttered. "It's just exaggerated nonsense."

Rudra, however, couldn't resist playing along. "Wow, Ray, you're that strong? I want to become like you," he said, his tone dripping with mock admiration.

Ray's face flushed, and he quietly repeated the word "strong" to himself. "If I were really strong, that wouldn't have happened to me," he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard.

Rudra caught the words, and despite his normally emotionless demeanor, a flicker of curiosity passed through his eyes. "What?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Ray smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Nothing," he said, but the sadness in his eyes was hard to hide.

Riven, sensing the shift in the conversation, quickly tried to lighten the mood. "Alright, enough of that," he said with a bright smile. "Let me show you the dance, Rudra. The sword formations. Watch closely and try to follow along. You'll do great!"

Riven moved to the center of the field, his feet touching the ground with the grace of a dancer. The surroundings were peaceful—a quiet, open space with the scent of grass in the air. The grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the sky was covered in a thin layer of clouds. It was the perfect setting for a demonstration, though there was a tension in the air—an undercurrent of anticipation.

Riven's sword gleamed faintly as he stepped forward, his movements flowing seamlessly. His feet traced intricate patterns across the ground, each step a perfect execution of precision. Rudra's eyes followed the movements, and he felt a strange pull, as though he had been hypnotized by the rhythm of Riven's dance. There was something almost magical about the way Riven wielded the blade.

With the first step, Riven's sword sliced through the air in a slow, deliberate arc. It shimmered, as if it were more than just steel—it felt like an extension of his very body. Each movement was fluid, purposeful, like a brushstroke on an invisible canvas. Rudra stood in awe, watching the sword as it weaved through the air.

Then the tempo picked up.

Riven spun sharply, his blade flashing as it cut through the air, leaving behind trails of light. The sound of steel slicing through the air echoed in the quiet field, a sharp, almost musical sound. Every strike was calculated, each step in perfect harmony with the next. It was as if Riven was moving not just through space, but through time itself.

Riven leaped into the air, spinning mid-flight. His sword created arcs of light, cutting through the air with precision. When he landed, his movements flowed into another strike, one seamless motion after another. It was a dance of death, beautiful and deadly all at once.

As Riven reached the climax of his performance, he spun faster, his sword creating a cyclone of slashes. The air around him seemed to vibrate with the power of each strike. The field was filled with the sound of rushing wind and the crackle of energy. Then, as suddenly as it began, Riven stopped. He stood motionless, his breathing calm, his gaze scanning the field as though nothing had changed.

Rudra stood there, his eyes wide, captivated by the spectacle he had just witnessed. For a moment, everything seemed to fade away—his mind fixated entirely on the elegance of Riven's movements.

"That... was amazing," Rudra said, his voice filled with awe, despite himself. "How did you do that?"

Riven smiled, still catching his breath. "It takes years of practice, Rudra. But with time, you'll get the hang of it."

Ray, who had been quiet throughout the demonstration, finally spoke up. "You'll be able to do it too, in no time," he said with a hint of sincerity, though his words were laced with a trace of doubt.

Rudra nodded, but his expression remained unchanged. He gripped his sword tightly, his face cold and emotionless. He dropped the act—his lively eyes turned dead, his every movement deliberate and calculated. Something had shifted within him.

As he stepped forward, away from Riven and Ray, they both watched in stunned silence. Rudra had stopped pretending. His gaze was fixed, unwavering, as he gripped his sword with a newfound resolve.

Without warning, Rudra began to move.

It was like watching Riven's dance in reverse. He mimicked the steps perfectly, his body moving with a fluidity that belied his frail form. But this wasn't just imitation—it was something more. He wasn't merely copying the technique; he was improving it.

With each step, the earth beneath his feet seemed to respond. Stones rose from the ground, swirling around him like an extension of the technique. It was as if he had unlocked a deeper layer of the sword dance, something that transcended the ordinary. His blade created a cyclone of energy—stones and dirt swirling around him as he spun, each movement more intense than the last.

Riven and Ray stood motionless, their eyes wide with astonishment. They had never seen anything like this before. Rudra was not just learning; he was mastering the technique in ways they couldn't comprehend.

When the cyclone of stones finally dissipated, Rudra collapsed to the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The energy had drained from him, leaving him exhausted, but he had done it. He had surpassed even their expectations.

Ray and Riven rushed to his side, their faces full of concern. "Are you okay?" Ray asked, his voice filled with worry.

Rudra gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he lifted his head with a faint, almost playful smile. "I'm fine. How did I do?"

Ray and Riven exchanged a glance, their expressions still worried but filled with a sense of relief. It was clear that Rudra had exceeded what they thought was possible.

Ray leaned in closer, his voice full of curiosity. "How did you do that?" he asked.

Riven's thoughts mirrored Ray's. How did he even pull that off? It didn't make sense. Rudra, with his frail body, had executed the technique with a precision that was far beyond his natural ability.

I memories things quickly "

Rudra was like this from the start of his life

He could memories any things with a glance

As he needed them or don't need they where in his mind without him bothering

As needed to act normal he didn't need to show them what he had

Ray's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "It's not just about memorizing," he said slowly. "Even if someone could memorize the movements, how can your body follow the mind that perfectly?"

Riven, though, was more amazed than Ray. He had seen Ray's talent, but this was something different. Rudra's talent was something entirely new—something beyond the so-called limits of normal human potential.

"You're extraordinary," Riven said, his voice filled with awe. "That talent of yours… it's something else."

Rudra, still catching his breath, merely nodded