The Extra Who Stole the Hero’s System

The days blurred into a relentless cycle. My body ached constantly, a deep, persistent throb in every muscle. Herald was an unforgiving teacher. He pushed me beyond anything I thought possible, beyond my physical limits, beyond my mental endurance. The underground hideout, once a place of fear, was now my crucible.

My training had moved beyond basic swordsmanship. Herald was now focused on teaching me how to manipulate mana directly with my blade. This was different from simply channeling mana for defense. This was about imbuing the blade itself with mana, making it an extension of my spiritual energy, a conduit for raw power.

He would demonstrate, holding his simple steel sword. A faint, almost invisible shimmer would appear along its edge, a subtle aura of mana that made the blade seem impossibly sharp. "The blade is merely a tool, Disciple," he would explain, his voice flat. "The mana is the true edge. Learn to project your will onto the steel. To make it sing with power."

He made me practice for hours, sitting cross-legged, holding my training sword, trying to feel the mana, to guide it from my core, through my arm, into the blade. It was frustrating work. At first, nothing happened. Then, a faint flicker, a brief shimmer that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Herald would watch, his gaze unwavering, offering terse corrections. "Focus, Disciple. Feel the connection. Do not force it. Guide it."

Slowly, painstakingly, I began to make progress. The faint shimmer on my blade became more consistent, more vibrant. I learned to control its intensity, to make it appear and disappear at will. It was a subtle, yet profound, shift in my understanding of mana. My blade was no longer just steel; it was becoming a conduit, an extension of my mana.

Once I had a basic grasp of mana imbuement, Herald moved on to the D-tier sword techniques. There were three of them, each a foundational skill for an Apprentice-level Sword Knight.

The first was Mana Sheath. This technique involved channeling mana directly to the blade's edge, making it sharper and more durable. Herald demonstrated. His sword, already shimmering with mana, seemed to harden, its edge glowing with a sharper, more focused light. He used it to effortlessly slice through a thick wooden post that Mudrel had set up for practice. The cut was clean, precise, as if the wood were butter.

"This technique enhances your blade's cutting power and its ability to withstand impact," Herald explained. "It is versatile. Use it to cut through armor, or to reinforce your parries."

I practiced. It was harder than simply imbuing the blade. It required a more precise control of mana, a finer touch. I had to visualize the mana flowing to the very edge, concentrating its energy there. My first attempts were clumsy. The mana would dissipate, or spread unevenly across the blade, making it glow faintly but without the focused sharpness. Herald would watch, his patience seemingly endless, offering terse corrections. "Focus the flow. Imagine the mana as a razor's edge. Condense it."

Hours turned into days. My arm ached, my mana core felt constantly drained, then replenished, then drained again. Slowly, the Mana Sheath began to solidify. I could feel the mana concentrating, the blade's edge vibrating with a subtle, yet undeniable, power. When I finally managed to cleanly slice through a thick leather target, a sense of accomplishment, small but significant, washed over me.

Next was Impact Burst. This was a focused mana release upon striking. Herald demonstrated again. He swung his sword at a stone pillar. The blow seemed ordinary, but upon impact, a concussive force exploded outwards, shattering the stone, sending fragments flying. It was raw, offensive power, designed to break through defenses, to stagger opponents.

"This technique releases a burst of concentrated mana upon contact," Herald explained. "It adds concussive force to your strikes. Use it to break guards, to create openings, to disrupt an opponent's balance."

This technique was even harder. It required not just channeling mana, but timing its release perfectly at the moment of impact. Too early, and the mana would dissipate harmlessly. Too late, and the force would be wasted. My first attempts were disastrous. I would swing, and nothing would happen. Or a weak, ineffective burst would occur, doing little more than making a dull thud. Herald would watch, his gaze unwavering. "Feel the moment of contact, Disciple. Channel the mana. Release it. It is an extension of your intent."

I practiced relentlessly. I struck stone pillars, wooden dummies, even the thick, reinforced walls of the hideout. My arms trembled, my mana core felt like an empty well, but I pushed through the pain. Slowly, the Impact Burst began to take shape. I could feel the mana building, compressing, then exploding outwards with a satisfying CRACK upon impact. The stone pillars began to crumble, the wooden dummies splintered. It was a powerful, visceral feeling, a direct application of destructive force. Read ahead and get updates by visiting M^VLEMPYR.

Finally, the third D-tier technique: Flowing Defense. This was a defensive technique where mana was subtly channeled throughout the body and blade. It enhanced parries and dodges, making movements more fluid, more resistant to impact. It was about redirecting force, about becoming a current in the river of combat, rather than a rigid dam. It promised increased agility and resilience.

Herald demonstrated. He would have Mudrel strike him with full force, and Herald, without seeming to move much, would simply shift, his body flowing with the impact, redirecting the force, making Mudrel's blows glance harmlessly off him. It was an almost ethereal form of defense, a dance of redirection.

"This technique is about harmony, Disciple," Herald stated. "About becoming one with the flow of mana, with the flow of combat. Do not resist the force. Redirect it. Let it pass through you, around you."

This was the most challenging technique of all. It wasn't about raw power or precise timing; it was about intuition, about feeling the mana, about becoming truly aware of my surroundings, of my opponent's intent. I struggled immensely. My attempts were clumsy. I would try to flow, but my body would resist, my mana would stiffen, and I would take the full brunt of Mudrel's practice blows. Herald would offer terse corrections. "Relax. Feel the mana. Let it guide you. Become the wind, not the rock."

I spent hours practicing, moving through various stances, trying to feel the subtle currents of mana, to redirect imaginary blows. Mudrel, when he wasn't training or on errands, would occasionally spar with me, his blunt sword a constant test of my Flowing Defense. He would strike, and I would try to flow, to redirect, to become intangible. I failed more often than not, taking countless blows, my body a mass of bruises. But with each failure, I learned. With each subtle shift, I felt a deeper connection to the mana, a greater understanding of its flow.

The days bled into each other, a monotonous cycle of pain, exhaustion, and incremental improvement. My body, once relatively soft, had hardened into lean muscle. My mana core felt constantly active, drawing in ambient mana, refining it, channeling it. I was no longer just a strong, fast brute; I was becoming a true Sword Knight, a practitioner of mana arts.

One morning, after a particularly grueling session where I had managed to consistently deflect Mudrel's blows using Flowing Defense, where my Mana Sheath held firm against his strongest attacks, and my Impact Burst shattered every target, Herald stopped. He lowered his sword, his gaze fixed on me.

His left eye, which had been shut for weeks, slowly, deliberately, opened. The familiar, intense blue glow emanated from it, and the mana density in the hideout immediately increased, pressing down on me. But this time, it didn't suffocate me. It felt… familiar. Almost comfortable. My body, tempered by weeks of his training, now welcomed the mana, absorbed it, processed it.

Herald regarded me for a long moment, his gaze piercing. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "You have achieved it, Disciple," he stated, his voice flat, yet carrying a subtle note of acknowledgment, of approval. "Your body is tempered. Your mana is responsive. You have mastered the D-tier techniques."