NOVEL NEXT Chapter 61: Training with Svetavastra II
The Preta Simulation Orb cast a shimmering translucent barrier around Prince Aryaman, encasing him in an eerie, otherworldly glow. Before him, a horde of undead surged forward, their dark energy swirling around them in sinuous waves. Their eyes, fully dark and glazed, lifeless yet possessed, emitted low guttural groans that reverberated with unshakable hunger. A sense of dread gripped Aryaman, these were once his fellow comrades and foes. To see them in this unnatural state, bereft of a decent burial, made him quiver with silent anger. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his sword tightly, veins pulsing under his skin.
The undead approached from all sides, closing in like a tightening noose. Aryaman's eyes darted from side to side, scanning for the best point of attack. He adopted a balanced stance, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. His weight was evenly distributed, providing a stable base for the powerful movement to come. With a smooth motion, he lifted the cosmic sword above his head. As he did, he channelled his cosmic energy into the blade, causing it to glow with a brilliant, pulsating light.
In a swift, decisive motion, Aryaman brought his sword down. The cosmic energy intensified, creating a shimmering wave of light that surged toward the undead, disintegrating them into dust on contact. The brilliance of the strike illuminated the grim Northern Mines, casting fleeting shadows of the obliterated undead. Aryaman’s lips curled in satisfaction at the impact of the cosmic energy. Simultaneously, he felt a drain on his spiritual reserves.
The respite was short-lived. Another surge of undead, now closer, marched towards him, their dark energy swirling more fiercely. With a determined frown, Aryaman lunged forward, pivoting on his heel. His blade pierced through the decaying flesh of the undead, each strike turning them to dust. He moved with calculated precision, hitting one after the other, his movements a blur of deadly efficiency. He jumped into the air, using his sword as a pivot beneath his feet to gain distance from the relentless horde.
His spiritual energy depleted further, making the cosmic energy within the sword imbalanced and harder to control. Aryaman felt the strain on his body intensify, his muscles weakening, his shoulders and elbows throbbing from overuse. But there was no time to rest; the undead were unrelenting, growing in numbers and closing in. Summoning his remaining strength, Aryaman focused his energy and struck the ground with a mighty blow.
A blinding rift of cosmic energy tore through the earth, creating a barrier that momentarily held the undead at bay. The force of the strike sent tremors up his arms, his muscles quivering from the exertion. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his spiritual energy waning with each powerful attack, further destabilizing the cosmic power.
The respite was brief. The undead, undeterred by the temporary setback, pressed forward once more. Aryaman swung his sword in wide arcs, releasing consecutive waves of energy that cut down the advancing horde. Each wave required a precise, powerful swing, the repetitive motion taxing his shoulders and wrists. He spun rapidly, the world around him blurring as he tried to maximize his reach. His legs struggled to maintain balance, his core working overtime to stabilize each movement. Despite his training and stamina, the rapid depletion of his spiritual energy made him feel physically weak, his limbs growing heavier with each strike.
Desperation set in as the undead continued their relentless assault. Aryaman executed a series of spinning strikes, each rotation releasing a burst of energy that swept through the encroaching enemies. His vision swam, the edges of his sight darkening as exhaustion crept in. The spins demanded perfect coordination, his legs trembling from the effort to stay upright. His spiritual energy was nearly depleted, and his control over the cosmic power became increasingly unstable, each attack more erratic than the last.
The ground seemed to shift beneath him, his knees buckling as his strength waned. With a final, desperate slash, Aryaman cut through the last of the immediate threats, the remnants of his energy attacks scattering the undead. He fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps, clutching his sword for support, sweat dripping from his face.
Aryaman’s body throbbed with pain. His shoulders and arms ached from the relentless strikes. His spirit, too, felt drained, the immense spiritual energy required to fuel his attacks leaving him dizzy and disoriented. The depletion of his spiritual energy had rendered his cosmic powers almost uncontrollable, the final attacks sapping the last of his physical strength.
Aryaman knelt in the flickering half-light, his vision blurred. His vision swam again as he tried to stand, his knees buckling under his weight. He fell forward, catching himself with his hands. His sword slipped from his grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Darkness crept in at the edges of his sight, and he collapsed, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion.
Svestavastra, watching from outside the shimmering barrier, sighed.
"Much to learn," he said quietly.