A month had passed since that night on the rocky promontory. Sulyvhan had maintained a strict training rhythm. Every day, he rose before dawn, went alone to the same isolated spot and spent long hours there. He alternated meditation and sword practice without interruption. No one came to disturb him. He had chosen this place precisely for its solitude.

His progress was constant. He now managed to bring out his internal energy voluntarily and in a controlled manner. The silver aura appeared when he decided, dense and stable around his body. He had given a name to this technique: Sundering Eclipse. The name had come to him naturally. It evoked the silent power that cut everything in its path.

That morning, like all the others, Sulyvhan stood at the center of the plateau. The rising sun pierced through the trees and illuminated the rocks. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He focused on the flow inside his chest. The familiar warmth appeared at the solar plexus. It grew quickly until it formed a regular pulse. When he reopened his eyes, a thin layer of silver energy already enveloped his arms and his sword.

He raised his blade. The movement was fluid and precise. With a wide gesture, he executed Sundering Eclipse. A blade of pure energy burst from the steel. It crossed the air without sound and struck a tree trunk located fifteen meters away. The wood was cut clean. The upper part slid and fell to the ground with a dull thud. Sulyvhan observed the cut. It was perfectly smooth, as if traced by an invisible saw. He nodded, satisfied.

He repeated the exercise several times. Each attempt was faster than the previous one. He varied the angles: horizontal, vertical, diagonal strikes. His body responded with an endurance he did not have before. His muscles no longer trembled after an hour of effort. Fatigue came later, and he managed it better.

After a series of strikes, he sheathed his sword and sat in lotus position on the rocky outcrop. He closed his eyes and entered deep meditation. He now felt his energy circulate like a clear network throughout his body. The channels were visible in his mind. He could strengthen or soothe them according to his will. This inner clarity brought him lasting peace.

He remained seated like this for more than an hour. The wind caressed his long silver hair. His breathing was slow and regular. When he came out of his trance, the sun was high in the sky. He rose without haste and took up his sword again.

This time, he trained to combine movement and energy. He executed a series of classic fencing figures, those his masters had taught him. With each strike, he injected a precise dose of energy. Sundering Eclipse was no longer a single powerful blow. He could now apply it to more complex sequences. One strike followed by another, then a third, each releasing a small blade of energy that flew toward different targets.

He aimed at several rocks arranged in an arc. The energy blades hit them one after another. The stones split with precision. Sulyvhan mentally noted the points to improve.

He continued like this all afternoon. Sweat ran down his forehead, but he did not stop. He drank water from a gourd he had brought and resumed immediately. Solitude suited him perfectly. No external gaze came to distract him. He could experiment, fail and start again without pressure.

Toward the end of the day, he attempted a new variation. He concentrated his energy no longer only on the edge of the sword, but on the tip. He aimed at a distant rock. The gesture was sharp and direct. A point of energy as fine as a needle burst forth. It pierced the granite and left a clean hole in it. Sulyvhan smiled slightly. It was an additional step forward.

He sat down again cross-legged, palms resting on his knees, and closed his eyes to begin a new meditation. He wanted to explore other applications of this energy.

The sun slowly descended behind the rocky ridges, stretching the shadows of the pines over the grassy ground, when Sulyvhan decided it was time to end this session. He unfolded his numb legs, rose with a supple movement, then seized his sword to slide it into its scabbard. He then lifted his head and let his gaze wander over the landscape that stretched at his feet: down below, the village of the Pack was beginning to come alive, its first yellow lights piercing the emerging darkness.

He began the descent of the steep path at a steady pace. His legs were heavy with fatigue, his calves burned after hours of static positions and explosive movements, but his mind, on the other hand, floated in a restful clarity. At the heart of this training, he would continue his attempts to refine Sundering Eclipse, to reduce the jolts and smooth the transition between effort and release.

The days that followed followed one another in a demanding monotony, but Sulyvhan saw no weariness in it. He gradually increased the duration of his sessions. He learned to maintain the aura longer around his blade without his energy reserves being exhausted prematurely. He managed to keep Sundering Eclipse active for several consecutive seconds.

Thus the month ended on these solitary trainings. Sulyvhan had gained in strength, but above all he had gained in control of his energy. He now knew that Sundering Eclipse was no longer a technique he had to think about before executing; it had become a natural extension of his will, a prolongation of his intention like the movement of his own arm. He clearly saw that other steps awaited him, but he chose not to worry about them for the moment. He was content with what he had built alone.

He rose one last time, at the end of his session. The sky had cleared completely, rid of the low clouds of the afternoon, and the moon, round and milky, began to appear above the dark horizon. He shook his clothes to remove the twigs, adjusted his scabbard against his hip, then began the descent toward the village.