One day had passed since he began.
Sirius continued to train, despite his trembling hands and aching body. He was determined to become a martial artist. And yet, he still couldn't cut the mannequin.
One week had passed.
Sirius cried for the first time in his life. A river of tears flowed from his eyes. He was suffering so much, and yet he continued to train, nothing could shake his will.After all, the mannequin still stood there, completely untouched.
One month had passed.
Sirius began to grow accustomed to the pain. He no longer suffered each morning, and he was finally able to eat properly at lunch and dinner. His training in the forest continued. The mannequin still didn't have a single scratch on it. How could he stop now?
Six months had passed.
Sirius had become much more precise. He could strike exactly where he wanted every time. The sword no longer felt too heavy for his body. He could now last more than two whole hours under the bright sun, drenched in sweat.
He was slowly starting to build muscle. He wasn't fully in shape yet, but it was better than nothing.
And still, he hadn't managed to cut or pierce that mannequin. So he continued to train, endlessly.
Eventually, one year had passed since his start.
Sirius was now thirteen. A whole year had gone by since he started his training, and the results were finally visible.
His hair now reached the middle of his back. It was no longer smooth and well-groomed, it had fallen into a pitiful state.
Despite being only thirteen, Sirius had a well-built physique. The skin on his hands reflected the intensity of his training. He no longer tore his skin every time he swung the sword. His baby cheeks had completely disappeared. Sirius now truly looked like a young man.
He still hadn't even scratched the mannequin, but he wasn't worried in the slightest.
"Sirius, come here."
After one full year, Aurelius had finally completed Sirius' martial technique.
Aurelius dropped a book in front of Sirius. This book contained everything: his flaws, his strengths, his habits, and the technique Aurelius had crafted for him.
The technique was still nameless. After all, Sirius would be the one to name it.
How could someone else name the technique he would use for the rest of his life, even if that someone was the creator?
Aurelius continued:
"This technique has eight movements for now. Once you grow and gain experience, you'll add more, to adapt to certain situations. Every martial artist ends up with at least fourteen movements in their style."
"So, how do you want to name it, my child?"
Sirius answered instantly, as if the answer had always been obvious:
"Cycle-Ending Bloom."
"My technique will be called Cycle-Ending Bloom."
Sirius had truly come to understand that life itself was a cycle, one is born, one lives, and one ultimately dies.
Thus, his technique would bloom the lives of those he would protect, and end the cycle of those he had to kill to protect them.
Sirius had never killed anyone before. And he was deeply afraid to do so. After all, every life is precious, each person has family, friends, lovers, children. Killing them would sever everything they were connected to.
But Sirius also understood that this world was not kind. A dragon had once burned everything within a hundred-kilometer radius as it was nothing after all. Eventually, he would have to kill, at least once.
So his technique, Cycle-Ending Bloom, also carried a wish, that in their next life, those he killed would truly bloom, that they would change and become kind.
That was the meaning of his technique.
Aurelius smiled widely upon hearing the name.
"A good name, child."
It was a name that felt as though it had been created for Aurelius, too.
After all, how could someone like Aurelius, who had lost everyone, not want them to find peace and bloom again? He felt like this technique had been created not only for Sirius, but also for his own grief. And so, for the first time in a long time, he was truly happy.
This technique had eight movements.
First movement: Falling Edge – A downward attack with full force, yet stable and fluid. The most basic strike.
Second movement: Cross Fang – Two diagonal slashes: from top right to bottom left, and from top left to bottom right.
Third movement: Line Break – A fast, horizontal strike, designed to end the fight in a single blow.
Fourth movement: Spiral Lunge – A spinning, jumping thrust, aimed to pierce the enemy while moving forward.
Fifth movement: Step Burst – A sudden burst of speed fueled by all the power in the legs, ending in a swift diagonal or horizontal strike.
Sixth movement: Cleave Up – An upward slash from the lower right, meant to cut the enemy clean in two.
Seventh movement: Chain Thrust – Five precise thrusts in quick succession, targeting multiple points.
Eight movement: Split Flow – A double horizontal cut: right to left, then left to right — as if dividing the enemy completely.
These were the eight foundational movements of Cycle-Ending Bloom, designed for a novice martial artist. As he advanced through the Realms, more movements would come naturally.
"Now that you finally have your martial art, my child, come choose your weapon."
Sirius followed Aurelius across the estate, until they reached a small zone where weapons of all kinds had been arranged.
Axes, spears, hammers, halberds, all were there. But swords and sabers were clearly the majority.
There was a messer sword, a bastard sword, a katana, a zweihander, a rapier, and even a dadao. Every kind of blade was represented.
I was truly astonished by all those weapons. My eyes couldn't stop scanning them, so many blades, all of them heavy, dangerous... and beautiful.
I took twenty full minutes to test each one. I wasn't interested in anything else, swords and sabers were my calling.
The dadao was too heavy. The zweihander, too long. On the other end, the cutlass was too short. The katana too fragile. The rapier not suited for cutting.
I tested them all, and then, I stopped in front of one. A long Hendirun saber, with a total length of 86 cm. The blade alone was 69 cm. Not too short, not too long. It weighed, 385 grams was not too heavy, not too light. It could pierce, it could cut and it was beautiful.
"I'll choose this one, grandfather."
"A long Hendirun saber? Not a bad choice. It's truly a good weapon for your style."
And so, at thirteen years old, Sirius finally had his martial art: Cycle-Ending Bloom. And his sword: A long Hendirun saber.