"Lance VI? What exactly is that?" I asked, my voice filled with confusion but my heart pounding with excitement, still riding the thrill of the attack I had just unleashed.
Serapynhe gave me an almost maternal look, like someone watching an apprentice take their first steps toward something grand.
"Imagine Nex as the purest essence of absolute control over power," she began, her voice calm and confident. "It allows you to mold your energy with surgical precision, making it sharp, resilient, and lethal. Now, the VI, or Vincar Interno, is a condensed manifestation of that power—an indirect cut, invisible to ordinary eyes, born from the synergy between the weapon and the warrior's heart."
She paused for a moment, gauging if I was following, then continued:
"VI doesn't appear all at once, Bruno. It must be condensed and accumulated repeatedly. Each condensation is like a breath added to a flame until it becomes a voracious blaze. The more VIs you gather, the sharper and more potent it becomes. When you reach an extreme number, you'll be able to take the final step toward proficiency: unifying these VIs into a single Lance Intention—a state where your will, your weapon, and your power become one."
I looked at the lance in my hands, trying to recall the sensation of that cut I had felt moments before. I focused, concentrated my being at the tip of the weapon, and, to my surprise, I managed to replicate it.
For about forty seconds, that energy began to take shape.
Whoosh!
A translucent, ethereal blade, sharp as a razor, materialized around the tip of the lance. It surged toward the ravine wall with a palpable speed and force.
Boom!
A small explosion echoed, sending dust and debris into the air.
"That's right, kid," Serapynhe said with a faint, satisfied smile. "Once learned, VI can never be unlearned. But if your heart falters, if you lose your passion and conviction for mastering the lance, the VI will start to fade. When the last spark dies out, there's no turning back. Your path with the lance ends."
"The lance answers to your heart," she concluded. "If you don't move forward, you'll be left behind. Such a shame."
Her words echoed in my mind. I had heard something similar before—not from her, but from a stranger. The lance... was more than just a weapon. It was an extension of my soul.
As my thoughts drifted, Serapynhe darted toward me like lightning, her eyes gleaming fiercely.
I heard a low click—the almost mechanical sound of her lance being readied—and felt the air vibrate with the blade's approach.
Ziiiii!
Our lances clashed with a shrill, metallic screech, as if the very air was being torn apart. The fight had begun.
Hours passed—or at least it felt that way. I fought Serapynhe, who attacked using 99 VIs while I had only my single, fragile VI against her storm.
She spoke, breathless as she circled me:
"Bruno, 99 VIs is the limit before I activate the Lance Intention. When I created mine, I used the maximum limit: 100 VIs."
Her attacks were swift and precise, like blows from an invisible army.
"It might seem simple, or maybe easy, but every additional VI represents a terrifying power. Imagine each VI as a person: you with one have a single helper; I, with 99, have 99 soldiers at my side. But to reach that number requires intense, relentless training."
"It's like you're fighting with the help of a child, while I have 100 professional warriors."
She spun her lance, and around it, 99 VIs danced like powerful ghosts, each with a sharp expression and a consciousness of its own. It was impossible to dodge.
I defended with my lance and my miserable VI, trying to understand the energy surrounding me more deeply.
Then she struck with a sinister thrust.
I blocked it, but the force threw me backward.
"Watch closely, Bruno!" she shouted, her face lit by a sinister smile.
She raised her lance above her head, and a hundredth VI appeared around its sharp tip.
A dark, fiery aura enveloped the weapon, making the 100 VIs spin rapidly in a spiraling hurricane of power.
Within seconds, from the vortex emerged an ethereal lance—simple in shape but carrying a terrifying presence.
She spun the lance in her hand and cut toward me with unimaginable speed, tearing through the air and the ravine.
Whoosh!
The cut was precise and lethal. The Lance Intention, charged with a force that seemed to consume the space around it, froze me in place, unable even to breathe.
The silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible. Smoke rose slowly, curling into the sky.
Serapynhe looked at me, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.
"Enjoy that?" she asked, almost taunting. "This is the Lance Intention—the second level of mastery. Where the VIs unite and come to life. This level marks your entry into the proficient rank."
She gave me space to absorb it all.
I looked at the lance, then at the sky, and my thoughts raced.
"This is just the proficient level?" I asked myself, stunned. "What about master? Grand master? Divine? How can something this complex even be explained?"
I had been naive to think the levels from apprentice to primordial were all there was.
If an apprentice mastered the divine level, they could probably massacre even gods.
My heart quickened with the realization: I still had a whole world to explore and conquer.
A wide, excited smile spread across my face.
"Strength," I thought, "is everything. Influence? Money? Contacts? None of it matters in the face of power."
Now, with countless opportunities to grow stronger, my excitement exploded like a volcano.
Blood coursed through my veins like living fire, and I surged forward toward Serapynhe.
She seemed to understand and share my feelings. This time, only our lances spoke—thrusts, cuts, spins—a fierce dance of will and determination.
Two maniacs clashed, fearless, without hesitation, happy in the intensity of the fight.
Without realizing it, a wild, childish laugh began to echo inside me—a being like me, but with a childlike appearance, breaking free from the chains of reason.
"And this," it laughed—a voice mixing excitement and madness—"is the truth: strength surpasses everything. Influence, money, connections—none stand against power."
"The purest and most brutal strength is the only thing that can rule the world."
Its sinister laugh reverberated in my chest, while the strange Veil that had been spinning silently before seemed now to fear being seen, as if wanting to hide.
This being never truly existed—it was only separated from me, a fragment.
But one day it will be whole.
When that happens, my shell will break, and my true form will emerge.
It was divided into three parts, and its two fragments are slowly drawn to me.
Until the day I will ascend to the heavens...