pertwk Chapter 34 Study
Chapter 34 Study
When Arthur woke up, the sky outside the window was just beginning to lighten.
The first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to place his hand on his chest, where the Dragon's Heart was beating heavily and powerfully, thump, thump, thump, thump.
Each contraction was one beat longer than before, and that extra beat was like a seed gently bumping against the soil.
He could clearly sense the magical power flowing through the more than forty magical loops; it was no longer an external force that he needed to deliberately guide.
Instead, it is a complete cycle that originates from the heart, surges through the Dragon Power River deep within the bones, and then returns to the heart.
He sat up and picked up the sword in the stone and the sword in the lake from beside the bed.
The light from the two holy swords flowed parallel to each other in his Dragon Power River, without interfering with each other, like two streams flowing side by side in the same riverbed.
Arthur took a deep breath and activated his Dragon Eyes.
The world bursts forth in countless new layers within the emerald green vista.
He saw his own magic.
When pumped from the Dragon's Furnace, it is a blazing reddish-gold color; as it flows through the River of Bones, it gradually settles into a deep dark red; and when it reaches your fingertips, it transforms into a very faint golden mist.
He saw the magic of the two holy swords: the blue and white starlight of the sword in the stone was as cold as moonlight, and the golden radiance of the sword in the lake was as warm as the dawn.
Two kinds of light flowed alternately in his riverbed, and the edges that touched each other created very faint silver ripples.
He could even see what those magical powers "wanted" to do.
The starlight of the sword in the stone awaits the "chosen" will, while the radiance of the sword in the lake anticipates the direction of "salvation."
He stood up, hung the two swords back at his waist, and pushed open the door.
Camelot was shrouded in a thin mist in the early morning, dew clung to the stone slabs in the courtyard, and the pond was as still as a mirror.
The frog sat motionless on the rock, as if waiting for the sunrise.
As Arthur walked through the courtyard, his dragon eyes automatically captured countless details he had never seen before.
The faint green life force emanating from the moss growing in the cracks of the rocks...
The subtle ripples created by fish swimming beneath the pond's surface possess a magical quality.
And the beam of ice-blue light from the tower window, clearly visible even in the morning mist.
Morgan awoke, and her magic was slowly flowing through the tower, much stronger than it had been the night before.
Arthur could see the icy blue mist spilling from the tower window, spreading down the stone wall, and outlining a very faint blue trail in the morning mist.
The magic carried the intention of "restoration," and she was slowly recovering from the excessive depletion of her magic power.
Arthur didn't disturb her, but instead walked towards the training ground.
There were already people in the training field. Lancelot stood alone in the center of the field, slashing at the air with his sword.
His sword made no sound because it was so fast that the air was sliced through before it could even make a complete sound.
Arthur stood at the edge of the training ground, his dragon eyes automatically detecting Lancelot's magical flow.
It was a deep blue, like lake water, clear and cold, flowing from his heart and down a simple, efficient path to his limbs.
His sword was coated with a very thin layer of magic, not to enhance his strikes, but to enhance his senses.
The deep blue magical membrane creates extremely subtle fluctuations the moment the blade comes into contact with the air, transmitting the air resistance, wind direction, and temperature back to the hand holding the sword.
Lancelot stopped his sword, turned around, and looked at Arthur with his light purple eyes.
"Your Majesty, your eyes!"
"Golden, I know." Arthur walked into the training ground. "It won't last long; it's just a test."
Lancelot nodded without asking any further questions. He sheathed his sword, stepped back to the edge of the training ground, and gave the space to Arthur.
But he did not leave, his light purple eyes quietly watching Arthur's every move.
Arthur drew his twin swords, the Sword in the Stone on his left and the Sword in the Lake on his right. In Dragon Eyes' vision, the magic of the two holy swords lit up simultaneously the moment they were drawn.
Blue and white with gold, cold moon with warm sun.
He swung his sword for the first time, and the sword in the stone drew a horizontal arc from left to right, leaving a very faint trace of blue-white starlight in the air.
Long Tong clearly saw the "intention" of that sword light; it wanted to cut through all obstacles in its path.
He swung his sword a second time, the sword in the lake slashing diagonally from the upper right to the lower left, the golden light and the arc of the sword in the stone intersecting in the air.
The magic of the two holy swords touched lightly at their point of intersection, and then each continued to flow along its original trajectory without conflict or struggle.
Long Tong saw that they completed some extremely brief "conversation" at the moment of their intersection.
The starlight from the sword in the stone conveyed the will of "choice" to the sword in the lake, while the radiance from the sword in the lake conveyed the intention of "salvation" to the sword in the stone.
The two wills coexisted briefly at the point of intersection, and then continued on their way, each bearing the imprint of the other.
Arthur sheathed his sword, closed his eyes, and the gold in his dragon eyes slowly faded, restoring his vision to the familiar emerald green.
He opened his eyes and found Lancelot still looking at him.
"Your Majesty, those two swords of yours just now... they were communicating." Lancelot's voice was calm, but there was a rare glint in his light purple eyes.
"It's not that you're using them simultaneously; it's that they're communicating with each other."
Arthur nodded; he felt the same way.
The Dragon Power River is not only a passageway that allows the power of the two holy swords to "run parallel," but also a bridge that allows them to "communicate."
The sword in the stone and the sword in the lake, selection and salvation, past and future.
When they meet in the Dragon Power River, they do not merge into one, but rather maintain their individual nature while listening to each other's voices.
"Lancelot, is that layer of magic on your sword for sensing?"
Lancelot paused slightly.
"Can you see it?"
"My eyes can now see the flow and intent of magic. Your magic creates fluctuations when the blade touches the air, transmitting the information from the air back to your hand."
Lancelot remained silent for the duration of a single breath.
"Yes, that was taught to me by the Lake Fairy. It's a technique for 'listening'."
The sword is not my hand, it is my ear.
It helps me hear my opponent's breathing, heartbeat, and every muscle contraction; before they even make a move, I already know what they're going to do.
Arthur looked at him; the dragon eyes had faded, but he could see without them.
As Lancelot spoke these words, his light purple eyes held a tranquility like that of a still lake.
That wasn't innate; it was honed through ten years of practicing swordsmanship while facing the lake's reflection, day after day.
There was no pride in those eyes, only a gentle warmth of being understood.
"Can you teach me?" Arthur asked.
Lancelot's eyes widened slightly.
"My king, your dragon eyes can already see the intentions of magic, my 'listening'..."
"Dragon Eyes sees the level of magic, while your 'Listening' hears the level of humanity. I want to learn both," Arthur interrupted.
Lancelot was silent for a moment, then he drew his sword and walked to Arthur's side.
"Start with how you hold the sword. Don't use your fingers to hold it; use your palm to feel the pulse of the hilt."
Every sword has its own heartbeat; you must hear it before you can hear your opponent's.
Arthur gripped the sword in the lake again. This time, instead of using his dragon eyes to examine the sword's magic, he closed his eyes and focused his attention on his palm.
The temperature of the hilt, the texture of the leather, and that extremely faint, almost imperceptible vibration.
That was the heartbeat of the sword itself.