The CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! of metal on metal filled the low-tier forge in one corner of the O’Leon estate. A figure clad in a leather apron lifted a well-used blacksmith hammer over their head, then brought it down on the heated metal held against the anvil. It had taken shape over hours of work and now could be nothing but the blade of a sword.

  After one last strike, Duncan placed the blade back into the forge to heat. Despite the cold weather outside, sweat glistened off almost every inch of his body. He grabbed a towel from a bench beside the anvil, then heard footsteps crunching through the snow outside. He turned just as Cinder opened the door.

  “Duncan, it’s time.” The elf man smiled at the sweat-drenched young man who stood before him. Duncan had grown another couple of inches in the two years since arriving in Dintarnum. Now, standing at six feet five inches, he was as tall as Neta and had an even greater wingspan.

  Despite his reluctance, Cinder had to admit that the forge suited the now 19-year-old human.

  Unlike with Cinder himself, Neta had won the competition for Duncan’s non-combat Subject nine months prior. Cinder didn’t have much hope to begin with, considering Duncan’s absolute obsession with swords in general. The moment the kid finished watching Neta craft a sword for the first time, Cinder had no chance of winning him over.

  “Alright,” Duncan replied, giving Cinder a wide grin. “Let me settle things down here in the forge and change. 20 minutes?”

  Cinder nodded, then walked out into the cold.

  ***

  Duncan’s short swords danced through the evening light as he used every ounce of effort he could force from his body in pursuit of two goals. Attack and evade. That was the purpose of the wind fairy’s dance sword form, which he was using almost exclusively at the moment. It drove him forward and around in quick, efficient movements with strikes meant to corral and force his opponent on the defensive, never allowing them an opportunity to land an attack.

  Unfortunately, his opponent on this occasion was Jen, Sonny’s mother and Neta’s most recent student other than Duncan, and there was nothing he could do to truly pressure her into doing anything other than what she wanted. However, today was meant to test the culmination of his nearly two years of training in Dintarnum, so Jen was playing her role. Now, she was a powerful brute. All power. The giant greatsword she’d been using for the past minute swung in large, sweeping arcs as she attempted to land a single, crushing blow on her opponent.

  That’s where the evasion of the wind fairy’s dance form came into play. Duncan was dancing on a sword’s edge, narrowly evading strikes that would leave him utterly broken if they landed, then using each opening to force Jen into a position where her large, more devastating attacks were more difficult to perform.

  “Change,” Neta called out from her favorite perch atop the apprentice quarters. Her instructions received, Jen did as instructed. Her entire demeanor was different than a second before. The overpowering, wild brute of a fighter she had been was gone, along with the greatsword she had been wielding. In its place, she now held a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The imposing tower shield covered her entire body, while her sword was a simple arming sword, easy to handle with one hand. It was a weapon meant for quick stabs and slashes in support of an overwhelming defense.

  Jen advanced on Duncan, keeping her shield up and her sword ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Duncan would end up crushed against superior defenses if he advanced as before. So, he didn’t.

  “Greatsword,” he yelled as he tossed both of his short swords into the air, then held both hands out in preparation. Usually, he’d never treat any sword in such a way, especially any he made himself, like the short swords he’d been using.

  He had nothing to worry about now, though, as in less than half a second, his own greatsword was in his outstretched hands, and both short swords had vanished from their flight through the air. Off to the side of the training yard, Cinder was back in his place as referee of the match, a short sword now held in each hand.

  Although the sword he now held was longer and broader than any traditional greatsword on Earth, standing as tall as he was from point to pommel and nearly two hands wide, it was well within his abilities to handle. A weight reduction enchantment made up for the overwhelming bulk that should have rendered the weapon useless to Duncan. It wasn’t ideal for a real fight since it also meant less weight behind his strikes, but it allowed him to practice with a weapon he’d be able to use once he was tier one and had enhanced strength.

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  With his chosen weapon now in hand, Duncan’s footwork changed to take advantage of his superior reach and power. The quick, short, and reactive steps of the wind fairy’s dance were gone, now replaced with the sturdy, balanced, and calculating steps of the swaying oak form. Swaying oak could be used against both people and monsters. It specialized in using devastating attacks and using a longer reach to stay out of range of shorter melee weapons.

  Duncan swung his greatsword around him in a wide sweep, forcing Jen to reposition her shield to cover her right side. Her right hand raised her weapon over her shield, pointing it down over her defense as she tried to advance through Duncan’s blow. He met her advance with two retreating steps and a new sweeping attack from the opposite direction. Each of his attacks met Jen’s upraised shield, but he continued to whittle away at her defenses. He was in no rush. If he were, he wouldn’t be using the swaying oak form.

  “Abilities.” A minute later, Neta’s new order freed them from their dance of controlled power versus steady defense. No longer barred from using the bulk of his enchanted items, Duncan changed forms yet again, this time not calling for a new weapon. The rising tide setting sun form was something no one from historical Earth would have ever seen a reason to create. The form didn’t prioritize footwork for the simple reason that the form was all about taking advantage of rapidly changing positions, both vertically and horizontally, so footwork was more difficult to predict and control.

  Duncan’s methodical retreat turned into a quick rush right at Jen, his greatsword leading the way as he pointed it straight at his opponent with the hilt above his right shoulder. Before they collided, Duncan kicked off the ground, jumping as high as he could off his leading leg. He would have been skewered on Jen’s upraised sword if it weren’t for the first enchanted item Duncan had commissioned.

  The first monster Duncan ever fought would have recognized the ability enchanted into his boots, as it was the same one Billy the devil mountain goat had used to soar through the sky. Duncan rose above Jen’s head with one step, then above her sword and past her altogether as he kicked off a second compressed disk of air. Then, he twisted his body midair to face her. His upward momentum stopped with the help of gravity, and his outward momentum stopped with his third and last consecutive activation of air walk. Then, he dropped.

  He swung his sword almost like a miner would a pickaxe, from close to his right shoulder and around in a complete vertical circle until his arms were fully extended. Despite his sword’s weight reduction enchantment, the pure force behind the blow was enormous, and as it met Jen’s upraised shield, a crash echoed through the O’Leon estate and over part of the surrounding mountain.

  There was no halt in the fight, no dust to settle. Therefore, as Duncan’s feet once again met solid ground, he immediately saw the effect of what might be the most devastating strike he was capable of without some type of damage enchantment to increase the power of his blows.

  It had done absolutely nothing. His strike should have mangled, or at the very least, dented the tier one shield, but the only things different about the shield were the faint glow that covered it and its now growing size. The glow was from Jen activating the shield’s active durability enchantment. Neta’s call for Abilities wasn’t restricted to just Duncan after all. As for its growing size, there was nothing magical about that. It was simple getting much closer very quickly.

  ***

  Orneta O’Leon, Neta to those who truly knew her, was both excited and disappointed. As she observed her student match up against his predecessor, pride and joy flooded her entire being.

  Two years ago, she had thought she and Cinder would be crafting a magnificent sword out of the melted-down remains of Duncan Tell. In the end, all they had really done was provide the heat and tools necessary for Duncan to reforge himself into something more incredible than Neta had thought possible in so short a time.

  Not even Cinder, who had been under her tutelage a lot longer than two years, had shown such promise, growth, and dedication to the sword when he was Duncan’s age. Cinder himself would be the first to say that Duncan was on a path to surpass him. He wouldn’t believe his grandmother if he heard her say that Duncan had the potential to surpass even her, but Neta knew it to be true. She had never seen someone as fated to wield the sword as Duncan Tell.

  Now, watching him smoothly transition back into swaying oak as Jen rushed at him shield first, Neta wondered what the boy would become in the future. What could he accomplish? What sights would he see? What enemies would he face? This is where her excitement came from. The unknown could be scary, but it could also be wonderful.

  Her disappointment came from the fact that both Duncan and Phevona would soon be leaving. Next week, they would undergo their Subject trials, and then they would start their own adventures.

  While Neta had always been sad to see her students go, Duncan was different. He had never truly opened up about some of his past, specifically about what she could only assume was an absolute nightmare of a birth mother.

  However, that didn’t matter. Neta and the rest of the family had known early on that the boy had two overwhelming qualities. The first was his love of the sword. It was obvious to anyone who watched him train. The second was his absolute loyalty to his family. The way he had talked about his younger siblings and his parents back on Earth made it clear he would do anything for them. And, despite saying multiple times he had no regrets about his choice to stay in Kuno, Neta could see the anguish he still felt over the possibility of that decision dooming his sister and brother to a terrible fate in Corvelin.

  In two years, Duncan had truly become a member of the O’Leon family. They had become his chosen family, and he had become their chosen son. He had started to learn smithing with Neta. He cooked with Cinder. He had trained, fought, and laughed alongside Phevona. And, once he and Phevona had sparred a time or two, Pheobe had been more fascinated with the stories of Earth and its technology than any of them.

  Cinder and Pheobe had approached Neta multiple times over the past six months to ask permission to truly add Duncan to the family as their adopted son. It would provide him with a shield in the form of their family name and give them all a chance to make a reality what they all believed in their hearts already. Duncan was family.

  Now, watching the boy… no, the young man, display the culmination of his hard work and well-earned prowess, she reconsidered her earlier refusal of Cinder and Pheobe’s request. Before, she had thought Duncan might see the offer as an insult to his family on Earth. Now, she wanted nothing more than to give him all the advantages she could before he made his own way through the Realms. He would understand the offer for what it was. An offer made out of pride and love.

  She was going to change the offer a little, though.