The soft, rhythmic shuffling of turning pages was a crisp and rather melodious sound, yet Leric Stormblade appeared to find it distinctly irksome.
He ceased paying any heed to Elara, who remained deeply engrossed in her study, and instead jogged back to the edge of the pool. Drawing the slender, elegant battle saber that had been thrust into the soft earth, he commenced his own solitary practice.
Elara spared him a fleeting, sidelong glance from the very corner of her eye. Observing his boundless energy, she dismissed his activities from her mind and resolutely refocused her entire attention on the ancient scroll clutched in her hands.
The idiomatic phrase "to read ten lines at a single glance" might well have been coined to describe Elara's astonishing reading velocity at that precise moment. A rather substantial, age-worn volume was swiftly scanned and absorbed by her. Head bowed, without diverting her gaze even for an instant, she reached into the bundle, retrieved another book, and continued her relentless process of flipping through its pages.
Her eyes were narrowed to mere slits. Throughout her perusal, her expression would occasionally shift to one of profound thoughtfulness, her gaze seemingly affixed to the pages with an unbreakable bond, unwilling to stray for even a fraction of a second. Her head swayed gently, almost imperceptibly, back and forth in tandem with the movement of her eyes, lending her an air strikingly reminiscent of a dedicated scholar immersed in deep, arduous contemplation.
Time seemed to evaporate, and one by one, the numerous volumes purported to be the "Blink Strike Swordplay" were rapidly, thoroughly, perused by Elara.
Upon finishing the eleventh manual, Elara abruptly halted her prodigious reading marathon. The volume she had just completed was casually tossed back into the large, open bundle.
She closed her eyes and sat in quiet stillness, regulating her breath for a brief interlude to refresh her weary spirit.
Once her mental energy had recovered to a more functional level, she settled into a cross-legged position on the ground, activated the Breath of Eternal Life, and commenced the meticulous process of replaying, analyzing, and organizing the contents of the dozen or so books she had just devoured within the intricate pathways of her mind.
Before long, Elara's countenance became a veritable canvas of shifting, complex expressions: at times, she appeared palpably, almost uncontrollably, excited; at others, her brows would knit together in a deep frown of intense concentration; and, not infrequently, a look of profound frustration and dejection would cloud her features.
An indeterminate period elapsed before Elara finally opened her eyes, only to receive a considerable shock from an object that had suddenly, silently, materialized directly before her.
Leric Stormblade's head had, at some unknown juncture, positioned itself directly beneath her eyelids, the proximity between them so acute that their noses were practically brushing against each other.
"What on earth are you doing? Weren't you diligently practicing your saber forms?"
"Junior Sister Elara, have you any notion of the hour? And you're still posing such a remarkably foolish question," Leric retorted, pulling his head back and pouting his lips with an air of mock offense.
Only then did Elara become cognizant of the fact that the ambient light surrounding them had grown noticeably dim.
She tilted her head back and gazed up at the sky; it was already a uniform expanse of somber grey, clearly indicating that dusk had well and truly arrived.
"Hah! Time certainly does possess a peculiar way of vanishing. I hadn't realized in the slightest that such a significant span had elapsed," Elara remarked, rising to her feet and stretching her slightly stiff limbs with a soft groan.
"Well? Did you manage to unearth anything of particular interest from within those volumes?" Leric inquired, his gaze fixed upon her with keen, undisguised eagerness, clearly hoping to receive the definitive verdict from her lips.
"Mm, not entirely unpromising. It seems… quite suitable for my needs."
"What precisely do you mean, 'not entirely unpromising'? Offer me something concrete, something substantial!" Leric pressed, his tone tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction.
"To be specific," Elara began slowly, choosing her words with care, "these so-called manuals are, in actuality, an eclectic hodgepodge. There is nothing genuinely systematic within them; they consist primarily of disparate, fragmented chapters, evidently cobbled together from a multitude of diverse sources."
"Then what is the true meaning of 'Blink Strike Swordplay'? Does this sword art genuinely exist as a coherent discipline? And why does it bear such a peculiar, almost nonsensical, name?" Leric, still far from content, persisted with his inquiries.
"'Blink Strike Swordplay'… hmm, its core techniques do, indeed, exist," Elara explained with commendable patience. "However, they constitute merely one component of this extensive jumble, occupying a surprisingly small fraction of the overall content contained within these numerous books."
"As for the rationale behind its peculiar name," she continued, "there is a certain logic to it."
"What logic? Can you not simply articulate everything in one go? Must you persist in doling out words one painstaking sentence at a time? You sound precisely like that old pedant from my home village!" Leric glared at Elara, his exasperation with her slow, meticulously deliberate manner of speaking becoming increasingly palpable.
Elara, feeling truly helpless against his barrage of impatience, had no alternative but to slightly accelerate the tempo of her explanation: "This particular sword art, according to the texts, functions by utilizing a sophisticated interplay of various light and shadow effects, coupled with an exploitation of human visual illusions, to thoroughly confuse and disorient the enemy, thereby securing victory. It is reputed to be capable of causing an opponent to inexplicably forfeit their life within the mere blink of an eye, hence its evocative name, 'Blink Strike Swordplay.'"
"Such an extraordinarily bizarre sword art actually exists? This world truly harbors no deficiency of remarkable individuals and their strange, esoteric talents!" Leric exclaimed, his interest palpably piqued by this revelation. However, his burgeoning enthusiasm was summarily extinguished by Elara's very next sentence.
"This sword art is governed by a strict rule known as the 'Three Non-Cultivations': firstly, those who have achieved even minor attainment in the conventional Source Energy Breath cannot practice it; secondly, those who lack immense, unwavering willpower and profound perseverance cannot practice it; and thirdly, those who do not possess a specific, special innate talent cannot practice it."
Upon hearing the first inviolable condition, Leric instantly and irrevocably dismissed any nascent thought of attempting to learn this sword art. His own internal energy cultivation had already progressed to a considerable, well-established level; he could not possibly contemplate abandoning the profound cultivation he had so painstakingly achieved over many years merely to pursue this unorthodox, potentially dubious path, whose actual combat efficacy remained entirely unknown.
As Leric's interest in these esoteric manuals completely evaporated, his desire to linger any longer in this secluded spot similarly dissipated.
He rose to his feet, preparing to take his leave and return to the outpost. Before departing, however, he earnestly instructed Elara to transcribe the necessary sections of the manuals as expeditiously as possible; he would retrieve the originals from her at their next clandestine meeting. He astutely pointed out that although these particular manuals were generally disregarded by others, the conspicuous absence of such a voluminous pile of items for an overly extended period would inevitably begin to attract unwelcome attention.
Not long after Leric's departure, Elara also vacated the hidden location.
The entire expanse of the mountain range was now draped in a thin, ethereal layer of mist, lending the landscape a somewhat dim, melancholic aspect. Dense coniferous forests flanked both sides of the narrow, winding mountain path. After a sudden gust of mountain wind swept vigorously through the treetops, it produced a sharp, rustling whoosh, and the branches on either side swayed with an eerie, almost spectral animation, resembling ghostly claws grasping menacingly at the fading light.
Elara navigated this somewhat unsettling, almost preternatural mountain path, hurrying with determined strides in the direction of Serene Creek Valley.
Because she had commenced her return journey somewhat later than intended, by the time she had traversed approximately half the distance, the sky had already succumbed entirely to the encroaching darkness of night.
Were it not for the unique properties of the Breath of Eternal Life coursing through her, which paradoxically enhanced her visual acuity in nocturnal conditions, Elara would never have dared to undertake such a perilous journey in such profoundly dim and treacherous surroundings. This particular path, she knew all too well, was rugged, uneven, and exceedingly difficult to navigate, twisting and turning unpredictably, punctuated by numerous precarious sections where a single, unfortunate misstep could easily precipitate a catastrophic accident, potentially resulting in the forfeiture of one's very life.