Paragon of Destruction

Half a year of constant training had finally brought Arran the beginning of a foundation in magic, and with that first step behind him, he found that the difference it made already surpassed his expectations.

Without a proper foundation, he had been much like a swordsman with bad posture, wasting effort and energy on even the simplest techniques. And that was something no amount of advanced training could fix.

There was only one way to address it, which was to start from the beginning and properly learn the basics.

Arran had made a start in doing so, and now, using magic felt entirely different from before. No longer did he struggle to command Essence. Now, he could wield both Fire and Shadow with little more effort than it took to wield his sword.

Yet he wasn’t done yet.

His training had changed the way he controlled magic, but he had only applied it to the Forms. And while the Forms’ simplicity had helped him in his training, the true test of his progress would be his ability to cast complex spells.

And that meant relearning the two most difficult spells he knew — Flamestrike and Shadowcloak.

He had learned both these spells already, but he had done so without a strong foundation. As a result of that, the versions he’d mastered were affected by the same flaws that plagued his spellcasting, relying on brute force rather than skillful command.

That was something he would have to fix, and if his suspicions were correct, doing so would not just make it easier to cast the spells but also make the spells themselves more effective.

He started with Flamestrike. It was the easier spell among the two, and he had known it longer than Shadowcloak. Hopefully, that would make the task of relearning it an easier one.

And so, for several weeks, he painstakingly taught himself the Flamestrike spell anew, this time using his newfound control and insight to learn it properly.

As expected, the process was much easier than it had been the first time. Back when he had first learned the Flamestrike spell, he had used sheer strength to force the Fire Essence to follow his will, and every step of the way had been a struggle.

But now that he knew what to do, progress came naturally.

In a way, Arran thought, it was like learning how to punch. In the past, he had been like someone who used only his arms to throw punches, relying on brute strength to make up for his lack of technique. And now, it was as if he was finally learning how to put his full body into each strike.

This was exactly the sort of thing a good teacher would have corrected early on in his training, of course.

Yet Master Zhao had departed long before Arran was ready to begin learning the basics of magic, and after his departure, Arran had spent years with little guidance in using magic.

He had finally found the teachers he so desperately needed, but by then he had already built himself a foundation that was rife with errors. And with a weak foundation, his magic skill was like a house built on quicksand, unsteady at best.

But he had finally addressed that problem, and the results were undeniable.

When he finished relearning Flamestrike some weeks later, he was amazed to see how different it was from the version he had previously used. It was like an entirely new spell — easier and more efficient, with a power far beyond that of his earlier version.

With this version, he could easily match the power of a strong adept’s attack. That still wouldn’t do as much damage as his sword, but it was no longer useless in battle — not unless he faced an opponent who shared his resistance against magic.

Arran was excited to further test this newfound power, and with a quick thought, he headed to the cave at the back of the small valley.

The cave was large — thirty feet high and twice as wide, stretching a good hundred paces into the mountain — and here, he could unleash his full power without fear of being noticed.

Although he had shielded the entire valley with wards when he arrived, his skill in that area wasn’t yet good enough that he could blindly trust it. If he wanted to use his full strength without worry, he would need a better barrier — and an entire mountain would certainly do the trick.

He walked inside the cave until he had passed half its lengths. Then, he faced the far wall, fifty paces ahead of him, and launched a single Flamestrike.

The attack was a tentative one, using only a fraction of his full strength. Yet even that was enough to burn a fist-sized hole in the dense rock, and he looked at the result with a pleased smile.

Encouraged by the effect, he quickly launched a second, more powerful attack. And this time, the streak of white-hot fire that shot forth from his hand penetrated a full arm’s length into the mountain.

Again he attacked, the next spell doing even more damage as he used an even bigger portion of his power. And his attacks kept coming after that, an endless barrage of white lightning crashing into the mountain and burning away the rock wherever it hit.

After barely an hour he had already doubled the length of the cave, a hundred paces of dense rock seared away by the unnatural heat of Arran’s Fire Essence. The ground was littered with pieces of molten rock, still glowing red as they had yet to cool off.

But then, when he launched another Flamestrike, something unexpected happened. Rather than crashing into the wall of rock, the streak of fire passed straight through it, leaving nothing behind but a small hole.

Another two attacks suffered the same fate, and Arran frowned in wonder as he realized there must be an empty space behind the rock — some sort of cavern, buried deep within the mountain.

At once, he ceased his attacks, then headed toward the wall at the end of the cave. He avoided the molten pieces of rock on the ground — his feet could withstand the heat, but his boots were another matter — and a few moments later, he reached the rock wall.

There were three large holes inside it, and behind them, he saw nothing but darkness.

With a thought, he launched a slow-moving fireball through one of the holes, then peered through it to see what lay behind the wall. Yet although he spent some minutes carefully studying the space beyond the wall, all he found was a large, empty cavern, at least a hundred paces across.

He frowned once more, then sent a cloud of Shadow Essence through the hole, figuring that his Shadowsight would be of more use than his eyes.

This suspicion proved to be correct. Exploring the cavern with his Shadowsight, he quickly found that it wasn’t merely an empty space. On either side of it, wide tunnels led deeper into the mountain, extending beyond the reach of Arran’s Shadowsight.

The discovery filled him with excitement. He had not forgotten about the starmetal deposit the mountains supposedly held. Finding them right where he had chosen to train seemed too convenient to be true, but he was eager to see if his luck could really be this good.

Yet a moment later, he shook his head, then stepped back from the wall.

Whatever treasures the mountains held, his training was more important. In the past, he’d let himself be distracted too often, chasing new treasures and powers while ignoring to develop the ones he already had.

That was at least part of the reason his skill in magic had advanced so slowly, and it was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

First, he would finish the task that had brought him here. And once he’d learned all he needed, perhaps there would be time left to explore the cavern.

But either way, he would not interrupt his training — not when he was progressing so well.

Over the next two hours, he carefully sealed off the path into the mountain, using both rocks and wards to block the way. If the caverns held any people or creatures, he did not want them entering his training grounds.

Once he was satisfied with the protections, he left the cave and returned to the valley.

He had relearned Flamestrike, and the results had surpassed his expectations. Now, it was time to discover what his new foundation would do for his Shadowcloak.