Broken Tower Saga: The First Swordsman

          Michelle looked at the man before her and did not know what to think about him. Clearly, the medicines went over his head and he was not in his right mind with the nonsenses. Though she had told him many times that she would guard him and have a pleasant sleep, the guy did not sleep, telling her he had to be ready when the soldiers appear.

        He was so tense in his such state that Michelle had not find a way to make him take a rest. He even apologised to her more than a dozen times for using such language before the crowds, not that he remembered she already left the matter for later.

        'Should I strangle him to make him pass out?' she wondered, and shook her head immediately. Who knows what this guy would do. He went on with half-crazy things when he was in his right mind, and now that he was like this, he might run off throwing her off. And even in his drunken state, she would not be able to stop him with her physical strength. While her spells might make his situations even harder for him.

        For another matter, they were still on the seventh floor, inside a cave they found hidden by the illusionary waterfall. Since then no man came after them though she was not sure if they did not find them in the confusing place or just that their performance was so good that they have not noticed a thing. Either way, Anton seemed to think people would come after them sooner or later.

        She only hopes no one went after Jacob and the others, not that they have reasons to. If only they kept their mouths shut about the entire happenings that were unrelated to them.

        "Michelle, you are good," Anton muttered in his drunken hallucination. "Forgive me. I have annoyed you so many times, but you are still here. I am sorry for all the things.. ."

        Michelle could not help but shake her head, looking at the face on her lap. It was not the first she was hearing it and if she did not find a way to make him relieved, he might do this all night. It would be unpleasant for both of them if this continued.

        "You are so good," Anton continued, knitting his eyes and brows. He caught her arm strongly. "As good as Sophia. If you are a few years older, I might even love you like her."

        Michelle had the urge to give a punch to the guy in her lap, but she calmed that urge down, as she could not do that now. Instead, she left it after cursing him a few times. "Who wants your love? You bastard, hoodlum, stalker.. ."

        "Don't worry, Mich. I'll always be with you to protect you, like a brother." But Anton did not stop. "Like a brother. .. Yes, Brother.. ."

        "Shut up, you blockhead," Michelle said and anger rose in her head.

        "Mich is so good girl, just angry most of the time. You have to calm your anger, girl," Anton continued, oblivious that Michelle was on the verge of bursting out in anger. "No boys will like you if you always burst into anger, girl. Got it. .. got it. . ."

        Michelle gritted her teeth and looked at the face on her lap. The last phase was what her mother used to say, and she would always answer it, snorting, "Who would want anyone to like me? Clearly, I don't."

        Unconsciously, she found herself looking straight at Anton's face. She cleared his hair from his forehead and downed her head towards his. And when she got her mind in the right place, the deed was already done.

        Her soft lips meet his stiff lips in a short and sweet kiss.

        Michelle instantly got her mind in the right place and removed her lips from his, with a beat red face. 'No, no, no, what I did,' she yelled inside her mind. 'That was my first kiss, and I wasted on this hoodlum.'

        She did not have a single idea why she did it. A moment ago she was angry at him and lost her control to kiss him. But what would she do? Does she like him?

        "Do I?" she questioned herself and looked at the youthful pale face of Anton. "No, no, no. .. how could I like this bastard, this hoodlum?!"

        Fortunately, no one ever saw her doing that, nor had Anton would remember in his current state. At least she hopes that was.

       . . .

        It was the twelve swords turned into light and infused with Wrik's soul. It was just like the theory behind habitual synchronisation, though it was far more complicated.

        Through habitual synchronisation, a mahasayer could learn skills and techniques without understanding them fully, the same things happening to Wrik now. The omega codes from the swords infused with his soul body, making it bulkier than he could control. The twelve one was the last one of the swords he could currently take in.

        It was just like eating. If you are full, you could not eat anything more. Currently, his soul body is full of unknown knowledge that he did not understand. Luckily, they were far from being trash, as Ryat had told them to never fill their soul body with a lesser body; it would only make one's growth stagnant and difficult.

        Well, to be precise, trash and this new ability did not align by a long margin. It was a freaking legendary ability that deals with creation.

        Wrik closed his eyes and imagined. Beads of sweat appreciated on his forehead, and swood light flickered on his palm forming a white crystal sword. He opened his eyes and looked at it carefully to find it was far from the level of the sword he had consumed. It was not even materialistic entirely. It should be something between real and illusion though he could not be blamed after all his Life's illusion was barely at Grade-E after he consumed the twelve sword.

        It took him all day to do that and exhausted his mind and body like nothing. Fortunately, this place somehow managed to relieve his exhaustion far quicker than any other space, though the drunken feeling never left him. Surprising, he did not feel hungry at all. Though his soul body consume the swords, his body still needed sustenance to recover, but all of it happened without any hitch, like it was only natural. This place was magical—it was the only explanation he could come up with.

        Moreover, it was not just the ability that improved, his mental ability be it intelligence, perception or maha maha all improved by the number 3. Though he would like to consume more swords, he could not actually do that with his current state. His body might be torn with his soul if he takes even another sword.

        Uncovering the secret of the sword, there was only one thing that was left for him to do. His eyes drifted off towards the high mountain range.

        Knitting his brows, he stood up and started running towards the mountain, hoping he would get something useful like the sword.

        Just like the barren land with swords, the mountain was emptied with nothing but lush trees and cold earth. Not even a single sign of an animal was there. Perhaps they could not live with the heavy air though he doubts that. Perhaps this was a place not supposed to have animals, or he did not know what type of monster it would turn out to be with such high mana density.

        Wrik wasn't even sure what he was breathing when he was consuming the swords. His mind was so busy at that time that he had ignored the cold particle that went through his nostrils to his systems, not that it did anything bad.

        All it brought was drunkenness, as if he was high on morphine and his body was heavier than usual.

        It took him half an hour to go to the mountain before he found something interesting to frown over. There was actually a gate that was made of sword arrays. Thousands of swords together made the court in the mountain and when he came before it a gate opened on its own, welcoming the guest.

        Wrik went in knitting his brows, and the gate closed immediately. Wrik was about to check that when a glittering figure appeared before his eyes. The figure was not much taller than him, almost identical, and he could only make out the exterior a little bit as it was glittering in white light.

the figure was not human but appeared like an avatar, though it did seem to have some intelligence, though the level of it might be limited to some simple things that it was programmed to do. 

"Finally, a challenger appeared." the figure motioned its glittering lips and words appeared in Wrik's head. "Challenger, draw your sword and claim victory to get the inheritance of the First Swordsman." 

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