The hexagonal chamber held three remaining doorways, each promising its own unique challenges. The shield portal's defensive runes pulsed with steady determination, while the crushing blow trial radiated raw, primal force. But it was the slashing trial's elegant curves that drew my attention—its carved blade caught the chamber's light like a crescent moon, promising a dance of edges and angles.
After the humbling weight of the greatsword and the chaos of exotic weapons, something about the slashing trial's fluid grace called to my bardic sensibilities. It wasn't just the elegance of the blade's curves or the promise of precision; it was the rhythm inherent in its movements, the way each strike seemed to echo the cadence of a song. For a bard, this felt like the perfect balance between artistry and lethality, where each motion could tell a story as interesting as any melody. With my Uncommon 4 shortsword rating, this type of blade was already a familiar dance partner—perhaps I could even attempt dual wielding, if the system permitted. Yet, I couldn’t help but recall the lessons from previous trials, where confidence often met unexpected challenges.
I approached the doorway, studying the intricate patterns etched around its frame. Where the two-handed portal had radiated overwhelming force, this one suggested something more nuanced—the difference between a war drum's thunder and a blade's whispered lethality. The carvings seemed to tell a story, one of elegance and subtlety, depicting warriors poised in perfect stances, their blades capturing moments of tension and release. Each etching seemed to freeze a fleeting instant of combat, where precision and beauty intertwined to create art through conflict. The details hinted at duels where victory was decided by the smallest of movements, each line a testament to the harmony between steel and skill.
"Third time's the charm," I murmured, though recent experience suggested counting trials was perhaps tempting fate. "Or fourth, if we're being technically accurate." A faint smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, an attempt to calm the nerves that stirred despite my anticipation.
The portal's energy reached for me like eager fingers, its light taking on an almost liquid quality. As reality prepared to shift once more, I couldn't help but wonder if this trial would finally align with my natural inclinations, or if it held its own unique lessons in humility. The question lingered in the air, unspoken but weighty, as I stepped forward into the unknown.
Stats Reset for New Trial
HP: 52/52
MP: 34/34
The slashing trial's chamber materialized like a dancer's stage, all sleek lines and deadly grace. Curved blades of various lengths adorned the walls in elegant patterns, their edges catching light in ways that transformed metal into frozen music. The space itself felt different from previous chambers—less imposing than the two-handed trial's cathedral, more structured than the exotic weapon's chaos. Where the greatsword room had demanded raw power and the exotic chamber thrived on adaptability, this space whispered of precision and accumulated wisdom.
Sconces cast light that moved like liquid silver, creating patterns that suggested forms and stances. The air itself seemed to hold memories of countless practiced strikes, as if the very atmosphere had been honed to a razor's edge by generations of blade masters. Against one wall, training dummies bore the elegant scars of perfect cuts—testament to both mastery achieved and mastery still sought. This was a place where the line between martial art and performance art blurred, where every movement could become part of a deadly choreography. The room seemed alive with anticipation, its very design a challenge to match its inherent beauty with skill.
The chamber resonated with potential, as though it awaited the next performance with keen anticipation. It seemed ready to test its challenger's resolve and skill in the art of lethal elegance. Unlike the previous trials' imposing presence, this room felt almost welcoming—though that welcome came with an edge as sharp as any blade on its walls. There was an undeniable sense of purpose here, a calling that demanded not just skill but a profound understanding of the weapon’s art.
Trial of the Slashing Edge Initiated
Objective: Demonstrate mastery of curved strikes and flowing combat
Requirements:
-
Execute 7 clean slashing patterns
-
Maintain blade momentum through sequences
-
Demonstrate edge awareness and control
Note: Trial emphasizes fluidity over force
I approached the weapon rack, where an array of single-edged blades waited with patient lethality. My hand found a curved sword that seemed to sing beneath my touch—its balance reminiscent of my trusty shortsword, but with subtle differences that promised new possibilities. The weight of it felt like an invitation, its grip cool and reassuring in my hand.
"This one," I whispered, feeling the weapon's natural inclination toward motion. "It wants to dance." The blade’s edge shimmered faintly in the chamber’s light, as if acknowledging my choice.
I reached for a second blade, but an invisible barrier stopped my hand. The system's message appeared with finality:
Trial Restriction: Single Blade Only
Note: Dual-wielding not permitted for this assessment
The barrier dissipated, leaving me with just the first sword. Perhaps mastery of one blade should precede ambitions of two. I nodded, accepting the unspoken challenge to focus my energy and skill.
You sing Rise of the Iron Will
The magic flowed not just through my muscles this time, but seemed to extend into the blade itself, as if the sword was eager to join in the performance. When the first training dummy materialized, its surface marked with sweeping target zones, I felt something click into place—a recognition of patterns that transcended mere martial technique.
The curved blade traced silver arcs through chamber-light, each movement flowing like water over stones. Unlike the heavy dominance of the greatsword or the unpredictable chaos of chain weapons, this blade emphasized grace and precision, inviting a harmonious partnership rather than raw control. The dummy's target zones pulsed in rhythmic patterns, creating a visual tempo that matched the beating of my heart.
My first sequence began tentatively, testing the blade's natural inclination toward circular motion. The sword responded with eager grace, its edge singing through the air in patterns that felt both foreign and familiar. Each strike left ghostly trails of light, writing a story of motion and intent across the chamber’s seemingly endless expanse. Boundaries blurred with every movement, rippling beyond their physical limits and echoing into unseen realms. My breaths synchronized with the blade’s rhythm, creating a harmony that felt both instinctual and learned.
System Notice: Movement pattern recognized
Initial Sequence: Successful
Progress: 1/7 patterns completed
The dummy shifted, presenting new targets with fluid precision. Guided by the muscle memory of countless hours with my shortsword, I allowed this new blade to reveal its preferred movements, discovering its unique rhythm and flow. Where my familiar weapon thrust and stabbed, this one wanted to sweep and flow, transforming linear attacks into curves of lethal beauty.
"Like writing music in three dimensions," I breathed, feeling the harmony between Rise of the Iron Will's enhancement and the blade's natural rhythm. The second sequence built upon the first, edges flowing into edges, each strike setting up the next in an endless circle of motion.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
System Notice: Advanced flow detected
Progress: 3/7 patterns completed
Note: Unusual bardic-martial synchronization observed
Sweat traced cool lines down my neck, mingling with the faint scent of steel and the earthy tang of my exertion. My breathing remained steady, controlled, each inhale carrying the cool air of the chamber that seemed to vibrate in harmony with my movements. This wasn't the desperate struggle of the two-handed trial or the comedic chaos of exotic weapons. Here, finally, was a truth I could grasp—the understanding that true mastery came not from imposing will, but from finding harmony between intention and action.
The dummy's painted features seemed to approve as I moved through the fourth sequence, blade whispering secrets of edge alignment and momentum conservation. Each successful pattern built upon the last, creating a composite image of what this style of combat could become. It was as though the blade was teaching me, its design a master’s lesson encoded in steel.
System Notice: Mastery potential identified
Progress: 4/7 patterns completed
Current Flow State: Optimal
A quicksilver ballet of motion and magic unfolded in the chamber as I entered the trial's final movement. The air itself seemed to thicken with anticipation, catching the blade's passages like ripples in a pond of liquid light. Each breath measured the space between strikes, while Rise of the Iron Will's melody wove strength and precision into a seamless whole.
The dummy's movements became increasingly complex, its target zones flickering in intricate patterns—a shifting starburst of arcs and angles that demanded perfect synchronization of body and blade. Some zones appeared in rapid succession, requiring swift, sweeping strikes, while others demanded precise, controlled cuts that seemed to challenge the very limits of reaction time. Where before I had fought the weapons' natures—struggled against the greatsword's mass or the chain's chaos—here I found a perfect resonance between intent and execution.
"Flow like water, strike like lightning," I whispered, remembering Mac's lessons. The curved blade answered with lethal grace, its edge tracing precise arcs of destruction through the chamber's silvery light. Each sequence built upon the last, creating a cumulative symphony of martial prowess that felt both ancient and utterly new.
System Notice: Exceptional harmony detected
Progress: 5/7 patterns completed
Note: Unique combat-bardic integration continues to develop
The chamber's acoustics caught every whisper of the blade's passage, transforming simple motion into something approaching art. Sweat painted cooling trails down my spine, but my movements remained precise, controlled. This wasn't just combat; it was composition through motion, writing music with steel and sinew instead of notes and strings.
The sixth sequence emerged like a revelation, the blade moving almost of its own accord. Target zones bloomed with successful strikes, each impact sending ripples of golden light through the chamber's atmospheric tension. The dummy's painted features held something approaching approval as patterns of increasing complexity were met with fluid solutions.
System Notice: Mastery threshold approaching Progress: 6/7 patterns completed Current Technical Rating: 94% efficiency
For the final sequence, time seemed to crystallize around me. Every lesson learned, every failure embraced, every moment of understanding gained through previous trials—all of it coalesced into a single point of perfect clarity. The blade became less a weapon and more a brush with which to paint destruction, its edge leaving trails of liquid light that wrote poetry in the language of combat.
The dummy presented its most challenging configuration yet, targets appearing and vanishing in rhythms that would have seemed impossible mere hours ago. But now, enhanced by song and guided by understanding, I moved through forms that felt both inevitable and inspired.
System Notice: Final sequence initiated
Warning: Unprecedented combat-bardic resonance detected
Note: Chamber analyzing unique skill expression
The final sequence unfolded like a dream rendered in steel and starlight. Each motion flowed with liquid certainty, the curved blade singing hymns of perfect violence through air that seemed to crystallize around its passage. The dummy's targets bloomed and faded like heartbeats, each one calling for a different aspect of this deadly dance.
My world narrowed to a pinpoint of absolute focus, where thought and action merged into something transcendent. The blade no longer felt like a separate entity but an extension of my own bardic nature—an instrument that played songs of edge and angle instead of note and melody. Rise of the Iron Will's magic pulsed through my veins in perfect time with each strike, lending power and precision to movements that felt both discovered and remembered.
The chamber's light seemed to bend around the blade's arc, creating afterimages that wrote stories of lethal grace through the air. Each target struck sent ripples of golden resonance through the space, building like harmonics in a perfectly tuned chord. The dummy's movements became increasingly fluid, as if it too had been caught up in this moment of martial transcendence.
Time stretched like honey dripping from a blade's edge, each moment elongating as if the very air had thickened to mirror the fluid precision of the blade's movements in the final sequence. The final three strikes came not as separate actions but as one continuous flow of intent—a cascade of perfect moments that wrote themselves in light and shadow. The first opened the way, the second built the bridge, and the third... the third was pure poetry, a statement of martial truth that needed no translation.
The dummy stilled. The chamber held its breath. In that suspended moment, I felt something click into place—a deep understanding that went beyond mere technique. This wasn't just about learning to swing a sword; it was about finding a new voice for ancient songs.
Trial Assessment
Trial Result: PASSED
Skill Acquired: One-Handed Slashing (Uncommon 4)
Skill Conversion Notice
Previous Skill: Shortsword - Uncommon 4
Converted To: One-Handed Slashing - Uncommon 4
Available Weapons: Scimitars, Falchions, Curved Swords, Shortswords, and similar single-edged blades
Note: Experience and proficiency maintained, weapon options expanded
1H Slashing (Uncommon 4)
Effect:
-
Attack: +8
-
Defence: +4
-
Slashing Weapons: 15% chance to deal +3 damage
Special Attacks:
-
Quick Jab
-
A fast strike with a chance to deal extra 3 damage
-
20% chance to reduce the target's movement speed by 50% for 1 turn
-
Cooldown: 2 minutes
-
Mana Cost: 5
-
-
Riposte
-
When you successfully block an attack, you can counterattack immediately for half damage
-
Requirements for (Uncommon 5):
-
EXP Requirement:
-
Gain 400 EXP using 1H Slashing Weapons
-
0/400
-
-
Skill Usage Requirements:
-
Successfully use Riposte 10 times.
-
0/10
-
-
Block or parry 20 attacks in total.
-
0/20
-
-
Win a one-on-one duel against an opponent of equal or higher level.
-
0/1
-
-
The chamber's energies settled around me like falling leaves, each mote of light carrying echoes of the performance just witnessed. I stood in the centre of this space that had become both trial ground and revelation, the curved blade still singing soft harmonies in my grip. Its edge caught remnants of golden light, transforming simple steel into something that straddled the boundary between weapon and instrument.
Understanding bloomed in layers, each realization deeper than the last. Where the piercing trial had taught precision and the two-handed trial had shown me my limits, this... this had revealed something fundamental about the intersection of martial and musical arts. The blade in my hand hummed with possibilities, its curved edge suggesting melodies yet to be written in steel and motion.
Battle Summary - Trial of the Slashing Edge
Combat Analytics:
-
Initial HP: 52/52 → Final HP: 52/52 (No damage sustained)
-
Rise of the Iron Will: Maintained throughout
-
Duration: 17 minutes of transcendent exploration
Performance Metrics:
-
Completed Patterns: 7/7
-
Flow Efficiency: 97%
-
Edge Control: Exceptional
-
Combat-Bardic Integration: Unprecedented
-
Technical Execution: Near Perfect
The training dummy stood in silent witness, its painted features somehow conveying both approval and expectation. This wasn't just a test passed; it was a door opened to possibilities I'd barely begun to grasp—new forms of combat that blended the artistry of music with the precision of the blade. The trial hinted at strategies yet unimagined and a path of growth where every strike could compose its own symphony of power and purpose. Each successful sequence had built upon the last, creating a composite understanding that felt both ancient and utterly new.
I closed my eyes, feeling the last echoes of Rise of the Iron Will's magic pulse through my veins. The curved blade's weight had become comfortable, familiar—like finding a new instrument that had always been waiting to join my personal orchestra of war and song.
"Sometimes," I murmured to the chamber's attentive shadows, "the greatest discoveries come not from forcing our will upon the world, but from learning to dance with its inherent rhythms."
The dummy's eternal smile seemed to widen just slightly, as if to say that such wisdom was both old as mountains and fresh as morning dew. Around us, the chamber's light began to shift, preparing to return me to the central hall where two trials yet awaited.
But this moment, this perfect synthesis of blade and bardic arts, had changed something fundamental in my understanding of what was possible. Failed trials and successful ones alike had each contributed their verse to a greater song—one whose full melody was still unfolding.