My System Doesn't Give Power

Armani disappeared into the cottage, leaving Zac alone beneath the moonlight with the Flame Slasher in his hand.

He released a long breath, returned to the center of the clearing, and sat cross-legged on the ground.

"So, how do we go about this?" Zac asked.

[Weapon Coating is slightly more complicated than coating your own body.]

[Mana circulates naturally through your flesh and meridians, but a sword doesn’t share your nervous system, despite the dramatic speeches swordsmen give about becoming one with the blade.]

"Can we stick to the weapon coating?"

[Right. You need to extend your Mana beyond your skin, guide it through the hilt, and distribute it evenly across the entire blade.]

The system’s tone turned instructive.

[More importantly, the coating must preserve the weapon’s shape. A sword is not merely a length of metal. Its effectiveness depends on the sharpness of its edge, the narrowness of its point, and the balance between precision and durability.]

[If the coating around the blade is too thick, it will blunt the edge. Instead of cutting like a sword, it will strike like a club. But if the layer is too thin, it will become unstable and collapse the moment you swing.]

"So I need to maintain the sharpness across the entire weapon. That’ll require far more concentration."

[Exactly.]

With the system’s explanation in mind, Zac trained throughout the night.

He coated the blade, swung it several times, and occasionally tested it against the branches around the clearing. Whenever the sword failed to cut cleanly or the mana layer collapsed, he examined the flaw and started again.

Every failure taught him something.

He adjusted the thickness along the edge, corrected the flow near the tip, and repeatedly practiced maintaining the coating while the sword was in motion.

By the time the darkness began to recede from the eastern sky, a thin, translucent layer of mana finally rested along the Flame Slasher’s blade without dulling its edge.

Just as promised, Armani returned at first light. The moment she saw the clean, sharply defined coating around the blade, her golden eyes widened slightly.

"He really is just as his father said he would be," she thought before approaching him.

Zac remained in the center of the clearing, the flame slasher still in his hand. Dark circles had formed beneath his eyes, and exhaustion weighed heavily on his face.

Without turning towards her, he asked, "What happens now?"

"Have you mastered weapon coating?"

"I wouldn’t say I’ve mastered it," Zac replied honestly. "But I can maintain it for a short while and use it to some extent."

"For someone who only began last night, that’s acceptable." Armani stopped in front of him. "I have two pieces of good news."

Zac immediately became wary. "What are they?"

"First, I’ll personally train you in sword combat today."

Zac stared at her.

"And second..." Armani reached into her inventory and produced a large glass bottle filled with dozens of small pills.

Zac recognized them immediately. "Are those the same pills you gave me before?"

"Similar, but better. They heal injuries faster and restore the body more efficiently."

Zac looked from the bottle to Armani, then back at the bottle. "Why do I get the feeling neither of those things is good news?"

[Because her definition of ’training’ appears to involve attempted murder followed by quality healthcare.]

Zac shook his head. "This is exactly the nightmare I pictured when she said she’d be training me."

[Look on the bright side.]

"There’s a bright side?"

[Nothing sharpens the mind faster than the possibility of becoming a corpse.]

"Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being beaten to death."

[And I’m not the one destined to save the world.]

Zac’s expression darkened. "Did you really need to bring that up now?"

[I was merely refreshing your memory. You have less than five years left.]

Armani noticed his distant expression and frowned. "What’s with that face? Do you think I’m not qualified to train you?"

"No, not at all," Zac answered quickly. "I’m simply overwhelmed by the wonderful news."

"You should be. The queue of people begging me to train them never ends, yet I’ve never accepted a student in my life."

"Lucky them," Zac muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I said I’m overwhelmed with gratitude."

Armani ignored the sarcasm and began scanning the clearing.

After watching her for several seconds, Zac asked, "What are you looking for?"

"My weapon."

Zac frowned in confusion.

Armani searched the ground for a moment before picking up a long, straight branch. She stripped away the smaller twigs, tested its balance in one hand, and then gave it a light swing through the air.

"This will do."

Zac stared at her. "You’re serious?"

"Of course."

"What exactly are you planning to do with that?"

"Beat you with it."

"Does she think I’m a dog?"

[Dogs are generally treated with affection.]

"So I rank below a dog now?"

"Why do you keep zoning out in the middle of a conversation?" Armani asked.

"I was thinking." Zac glanced at the branch in her hand. "Are you genuinely planning to face an A-rank sword with that?"

"Unless you’d prefer me to use a real weapon against you."

"No. The stick will do."

"Good." Armani rested the branch against one shoulder. "Here’s how today’s training will work. I’ll attack you with this, and you are not permitted to strike me."

She paused. "Not that you could, even if you tried."

"That arrogance is going to come back and bite her one day."

[She possesses enough strength to justify it.]

"No kidding."

"As I was saying," Armani continued, "you are not allowed to attack. Your only tasks are to block, parry, redirect, and survive."

"Is that all?"

"That is already more than enough for you."

Zac looked at the branch once again. "You’re going to coat it with Mana, aren’t you?"

"Of course." Armani gave him a faint smile. "But don’t worry. I’ll restrain myself enough that you won’t explode from a single strike."

"That’s a terrible pep talk."

"Then give yourself a better one."

Golden Mana began gathering around it, forming a thin, translucent layer across the wood. Despite the branch’s crude shape, the coating followed every contour perfectly and sharpened its edge until it resembled a wooden blade.

[And here we have another timeless method of training a pupil.]

Zac tightened his grip on the Flame Slasher.

"So, are you ready?" Armani asked.

"I’ve been ready since the day I was born."

"Big words." A faint smile touched her lips. "Let’s see whether you can back them up."

Before Zac could settle fully into his stance, Armani vanished.

She reappeared on his right and swept the Mana-coated branch towards his ribs with casual precision.

Zac twisted at the waist and brought the Flame Slasher across to parry.

The instant the weapons collided, a violent shock traveled through his sword and tore up both arms. His boots carved through the dirt as the force drove him several meters backwards.

"Good," Armani said. "Let’s continue." She closed the distance again.

"Don’t try to overpower me because you can’t."

"I’m well aware of that."

Zac redirected another strike and stepped away, but despite the relaxed way Armani carried herself, he could not find a single weakness in her stance.

"I’m not claiming to be some Sword God," Zac thought. "But I know I’m good with a blade. Between my SS-rank swordsmanship talent, my training, and the effects of my bloodline, why can’t I spot even one opening?"

[Because talent gives you a head start. It doesn’t hand you victory on a silver platter.]

The system’s tone was almost pitying.

[She is a battle-hardened veteran who has probably killed more people than the number of days you’ve been alive. Expecting to read her stance this easily is not confidence. It is just stupidity.]

While Zac was distracted, Armani stepped inside his guard. The branch struck the left side of his abdomen with a sharp crack.

Pain exploded through his body.

Zac was hurled across the clearing, skidded along the ground, and came to a stop coughing blood into the dirt.

Armani walked over, pushed a healing pill into his mouth, and waited for him to swallow.

"Why are you zoning out in the middle of a fight?" she asked. "If I were an enemy, you would already be dead."

She looked down at him coldly. "And didn’t I tell you that your task was to defend?"

"I was defending."

"No, you weren’t. You were searching for an opening."

Zac remained silent.

"This is not your chance to prove how skilled you are with a sword," Armani continued. "I already know you have talent, and your father trained you himself."

"We are here to improve your mana coating, so stop trying to outplay someone you cannot even read yet, and focus on defending, redirecting force, and using your coating efficiently."

She stepped back. "Now get up."

The pill’s medicinal energy spread through Zac’s abdomen, repairing the damage. Once the pain eased, he forced himself upright and resumed his stance.

The training began again.

Ten minutes later, Armani’s branch slipped past his sword and struck his left forearm. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing.

The bones shattered beneath the impact, and Zac’s arm dropped uselessly at his side. He stumbled backwards, his face paling from the pain.

"Pill," he forced out.

Armani raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Can’t you see my arm is broken?"

"I do see it, but you are right-handed, right?" she continued. "So why do you need to stop?"

"Because my other arm has been smashed to pieces."

"And?"

Zac’s expression twisted in disbelief.

"Treat this like a real battlefield," Armani said. "Do you think an enemy will politely wait while you repair a broken limb?"

Before he could respond, she vanished again.

Zac felt movement behind him and immediately ducked to the left.

The branch swept towards his head.

He raised the Flame Slasher, caught the strike against the flat of the blade, and redirected it past his shoulder.

The impact sent a violent tremor through his right arm, but he held his footing. Two minutes later, another strike slipped beneath his guard and crashed into his ribs.

Zac hit the ground hard, blood spilling from his lips. "At this rate, I’m going to fertilize the entire mountain with my blood."

[Nature thanks you for your continued contributions.]

"Not helping."

When it became clear that Zac could no longer rise, Armani approached and fed him another pill. Within minutes, his shattered arm and broken ribs knitted back together.

Then the training resumed.

Time blurred into a cycle of attacks, injuries, medicine, and recovery.

Zac lost count of how many times Armani broke him and put him back together. At one point, she appeared beside him and swung the branch towards his neck.

Zac reacted instantly.

He shifted the coating into his sword arm, reinforced the muscles beneath it, anchored both feet to the ground, and parried the blow at the perfect angle.

For the first time, he did not slide backwards, and a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face.

Armani immediately drove her foot into his stomach.

The air burst from Zac’s lungs as he folded around the kick and was launched across the clearing. He rolled several times before stopping on his side, coughing blood and clutching his abdomen.

"You said you were going to attack me with the stick," he rasped.

"I lied."

Zac stared at her.

"Do you expect your enemies to honor rules that exist only in your head?" Armani asked.

[She has a point.]

"Whose side are you on?"

[The winning side.]

The training continued.

Bones cracked. Muscles tore. Teeth broke. More than once, the force of Armani’s attacks damaged his internal organs badly enough to leave him choking on blood.

The worst part was not the pain itself. It was being healed, dragged back to his feet, and knowing the entire ordeal was about to begin again.

Yet every time Zac recovered, he noticed another flaw disappearing from his movements. It’s like each beating stripped another mistake from his fighting style.

And, as if that were not enough, his control over Mana Coating was improving at a frightening pace.

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