Destiney of the Sword God

Chapter 3 - Secret Powers Emerge

Rowan breathed in the brisk evening air as he strode into the fading sunlight dappling the forest. The familiar scent of pine needles and loam soothed his spirit, and he allowed the tension from village life to unwind from his shoulders. This woodland glen had become his private sanctuary, where he could hone his craft without prying eyes.

Selecting a small clearing, Rowan unsheathed his trusted blade in one smooth motion. He took a moment to feel it's comforting weight, drawing strength from the bond he shared with this tool. Then he flowed into the opening stance, eyes narrowing in fierce concentration. His body danced the intricate patterns with instinctive grace, each calculated strike ringing out into the stillness.

As the sun sank below the trees, staining the sky crimson, Rowan poured all his being into the ritual. Sweat slicked his brow but he did not falter, losing himself to the poetry of motion. His form was poetry in steel, every muscle singing in harmony. In these sacred moments, he was not a village outsider but a force of nature - guided by an innate purpose far greater than any title could hold. Darkness fell, and still he honed his edge beneath the gathering stars. This was his sacred calling, and in its pursuit, he found ultimate peace. Rowan's blade sliced through the night-thickened air, each practiced swing guiding him deeper into trance. Only the quiet rustlings of nocturnal woodland dwellers broke the stillness, a comforting backdrop to his solitary dance.

As his muscles burned with a soothing fire, a flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye. Rowan froze mid-strike, every sense straining into the gloom beneath shadowy boughs. There, between the boles - was that merely a drifting leaf, or something more substantial lingering just out of sight?

Gripping his hilt till knuckles paled, Rowan slowly pivoted, scanning the enclosed forest. The faint scrape of branches yielded no other sounds. Yet an innate prickling raised the fine hairs along his arms; something, or someone, watched from the fringes of his perception.

He dared not call out, for such an incursion onto his secret training grounds could bring no good. Rowan flowed silently into a guard position, steadying erratic breaths to hear all. Whatever lurked so close to home, his blade would give an answer should it threaten all he vowed to protect. The deepening night held its mystery a while longer. Rowan tensed, sword raised, as a sudden flurry of movement broke the stillness. A nightmarish form erupted from the tree line with guttural snarls, hackles bristling in the dim starlight.

Goblin was the name his people gave these forest demons, and well it fit the horror before him. Wiry muscles bunched beneath mottled flesh as it brandished a chipped stone blade, thin lips peeled back to reveal yellowed fangs. Its slanted eyes locked upon Rowan with savage hunger, saliva flying as rumbling growls emanated from its chest.

Only tales around village hearths had prepared him for such a beast, yet nothing could brace one for their twisted visage. Rowan gasped, feet sliding backward in spite of himself, as waves of foul breath assailed his senses. Every iota of woodland menace seemed distilled in the goblin's wiry form, a nightmare given flesh and bone.

Steeling his nerves, Rowan centered himself and leveled his gleaming sword. Whatever evil this demon harbored, no threat to homeland could be tolerated whilst breath remained in him. His moment of shock passed; now the dance would answer its own question. The goblin burst into a frenzied charge with alarming swiftness, dull blade raised in two gnarled fists. Rowan braced himself, senses sharpening beneath the hammer of adrenaline.

As the creature barreled down, every muscle sang its readiness. Years of drills under Sergeant Geralt's stern tutelage coalesced into instincts fluid as quicksilver. Rowan flowed liquidly to the left, feeling the rush of putrid wind buffing his cheek. The goblin bellowed in dismay, skidding through empty air.