Paragon of Destruction

A look of concentration appeared on Arran's face as he focused his attention, concentrating his thoughts on the seal that Master Zhao had created years earlier.

The seal was the same as always — a bafflingly intricate weave of Shadow Essence, as impenetrable as it was complex.

Yet the seal's complexity wasn't what frustrated him.

Over the years, he had grown to know it as well as he knew his own body — better, perhaps. Intricate though it was, he knew exactly where every strand of Essence belonged, and exactly how they were all woven together.

Rather, what left him frustrated was that despite his knowledge of it, the seal still easily resisted his every effort to remove it.

He had long since tried the methods the Sixth Valley's Patriarch had shown him to remove it, but none seemed to achieve much of anything. No matter what he did, the seal reformed itself instantly whenever he managed to damage it.

It was as if the seal had a mind of its own. Or not a mind, exactly — it more resembled a single-minded will, and one that seemed ingrained in the very weave of Essence itself.

This will, if it could be called that, rejected any of Arran's attempts at changing or destroying the seal. Whatever he did to attack it, the seal simply shrugged off the damage and returned to its original state without even the slightest delay.

It was maddening — like trying to carve a statue out of water.

Still, there was nothing for it but to continue his search for a solution. And without any idea of where to begin, all he could do was study the seal. Perhaps eventually, he would find some weakness he had overlooked.

He spent three hours sitting aside the stream that ran through the small valley, the tree next to him providing shade as he examined the seal's many intricate details once more.

Pleasant and peaceful though his surroundings were, Arran's mood gradually soured as three hours of study brought him no progress whatsoever.

The Patriarch had told him the seal contained a sliver of Master Zhao's insights, and in the months since then, he had recognized what he thought was a hint of this.

It was as if the seal reflected a fundamental law of reality — as if its very existence was an indelible feature of the world.

Yet try as he might, the insight contained within the seal remained inscrutable. He could just barely glean its existence, but beyond that, it refused to reveal even the slightest shred of its secrets.

At first, he had believed this was a simple shortcoming of his own knowledge — something he could fix with further study, given enough time.

But as the months passed, he had begun to suspect that there was another problem. Somehow, the insight within the seal felt incomplete, as if there was another part of it. And worse, he began to think breaking the seal without that missing part might be impossible.

Perhaps he might find a way around that if he reached the Patriarch's level of skill and knowledge, but that was little comfort. Doing so would take centuries, if not longer.

He knew that there was something he was missing, but as for what it was…

Frustrated by the complete lack of progress, he decided to take a break to clear his head.

After a moment's thought, he stood up and began to practice the Thousand Cuts style. Difficult though it was — especially following Brightblade's advice not to repeat the same series of moves more than once — at least here, he felt like he made some small process.

And if the practice was difficult, at least his sword wasn't actively resisting his efforts.

He spent half an hour practicing the Thousand Cuts, until the frustration of working on the seal had mostly faded. Then, he ate a quick meal, and set to work on the seal once more.

Frustrating or not, it was a task he'd have to complete sooner or later.

But for all his resolve, this attempt at finding a weak spot in the seal fared no better than the previous one. Several hours passed slowly and fruitlessly, with Arran soon feeling like someone trying to carry water in a basket.

He took another break, then began his work anew.

By the time the sun set his mind was weary from the effort, and he could not help but feel disheartened as he realized that he had achieved nothing whatsoever. He had gained no knowledge, no skill, no insights — he had merely wasted time.

He went to bed with a heavy heart that night, his goal seemingly even further away than it had been in the morning.

Four days passed like this, with Arran spending each day fully devoting his attention to the seal. Yet for all his efforts, he made no progress at all.

It was as if the seal was a lock that needed a key to be opened — some special knowledge or insight that would allow him to defeat it. And without that key, his attempts were doomed to failure.

Yet the only person who knew the truth was Master Zhao himself, and years had passed since they parted ways. For all Arran knew, he might never meet the man again.

He had long since examined the things Master Zhao had given him before he left, but none of it was any use. Among the scrolls, amulets, and other resources he had been given, there wasn't a single one with any information that would aid him in this task.

Master Zhao's training wasn't any use, either. The man had barely even discussed how seals worked when they were together. Instead, he had merely placed several of them on Arran's Realms, and told him to figure it out himself.

Arran had figured out the weaker seals quick enough. Although they had first been broken with the help of Realm Opening Pills, he had eventually learned to recreate them almost perfectly.

Yet the knowledge he had gained from doing so proved little help. The seal on his Destruction Realm was different altogether, and it required something far beyond some skill in Shadow seals to open.

The thought was enough to leave him hopeless.

On the fifth day, he felt weary from the moment he awoke, the prospect of spending yet another day achieving nothing weighing heavily on his mind.

As usual, he headed to the tree beside the stream, and as usual, he spent several hours studying the seal without gaining anything useful.

When he felt he could go no more, he let out a sigh, then stood up and stretched out, preparing to take a short break by practicing the Thousand Cuts.

Yet even as he drew his sword, his eyes suddenly went wide.

"But he did teach me something…"

Arran spoke the words out loud, the realization striking him like a bolt of thunder.

When they first met, Master Zhao had spent months teaching him nothing but swordsmanship. At the time, he'd believed the man's only purpose was for him to learn control, to prepare him for learning magic.

But now, he realized there was something strange about that. From what he'd learned since then, control was something mages acquired while they practiced magic, not before they even started. And even then, swordsmanship was hardly the easiest way to improve one's magical control.

Moreover, now that he considered it, the sword style Master Zhao had used was a strange one. At the time, inexperienced as he was, he had thought it was as if Master Zhao's movements condensed every sword stroke down to its essence.

But now, he could see that wasn't quite true. Although the man's techniques had been trimmed of all excess movement, there had been a strange sense of purpose to them.

He realized with some shock that what he remembered of Master Zhao's sword style somehow resembled the sliver of insight within the seal.

A shiver of excitement ran through his body as he saw a new path ahead. Perhaps he was fooling himself into seeing something where nothing existed, but even so, just the possibility was enough to fill him with anticipation.

He quickly raised his sword. Then, he began to practice the moves that Master Zhao had taught him all those years ago.