Abyss System The Rise of the Lord-Chapter 75 sword technique

Zaber finished eating the fish to the last bite. He tossed the remaining bones onto the ground and took a deep breath. His chest expanded slightly, and his breathing felt lighter.

"I had not eaten for several days..." he said in a low voice. "This is much better."

His mood noticeably improved.

The slime slowly approached Zaber and began digesting the fish bones on the ground. It made a soft, almost cheerful sound.

"Kyu... kyu..."

Zaber took the sword in his left hand. There was no clothing above his navel—his upper body was bare, his skin chilled by the water and the breeze. His long black hair fluttered in the wind, brushing against his shoulders.

He looked at the waterfall. Then he plunged the sword into the ground and entered the water again. This time, he swam toward a large rock under the waterfall and sat on it. The water falling from above struck his body, flowing down from his shoulders.

Zaber closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly upward. The water hit his face directly. His breathing hardened a bit, but this was not discomfort.

On the contrary—he felt good.

He remained in this state for a while. Then he faced forward and opened his eyes.

He extended his right hand halfway forward. Three fingers were almost fully open, the remaining two half-bent. His palm faced upward.

In the next moment, a pink soul chain emerged from Zaber’s palm.

He intended to practice controlling it through imagination.

Zaber moved the chain slowly. He hardly struggled with this, but he needed to know to what extent he could control it. The chain obeyed his thoughts, but how deeply this obedience went was unknown.

Zaber thought while looking at the chain.

The souls consumed by the chain do not benefit me directly. Instead, a ring appears on the chain for each one. That means it is interested in the soul itself... but is it the quantity or the quality?

In this state, he formed various shapes from the approximately ten-meter chain and practiced for about an hour. The chain bent, stretched, twisted—as if it were a living creature.

But as time passed, his head began to spin.

Zaber held his head with his left hand.

"Controlling through imagination... does it require mental strength?" he said slowly.

At that instant, the chain retracted into his body from his waist.

Zaber remained sitting under the waterfall. Water flowed down his body, but his mind was still on the chain.

The soul chain does not require mana... he thought. This is perfect for me.

He closed his eyes, faced the sky, and opened his mouth. Water entered his mouth. He swallowed a bit, then tilted his head forward again.

Now he began thinking about the future.

How should I behave in the future?

How can I appear even more mysterious?

First of all, no one should know anything about me. Anyway, everyone already thinks Noa S Dragon is dead.

My real name—Noa—is known only to Gobuto. He has a very strong survival instinct. He will give up everything but will not reveal my name to anyone.

The name Zaber... no one knows it at all.

Zaber closed his eyes.

I must continue like this.

Just as I acted in Idal city and Riza forest.

That is the decision.

The next thought made him even more serious.

Power display...

But in that case, the risk increases by seventy percent.

He firmly established one conclusion inwardly.

The most important thing—no one should know about the soul chain.

Zaber sat under the waterfall for several hours, the cold water continuously striking his body, gradually washing away the tension in his muscles. During this time, he did not rush anywhere; he merely organized his thoughts. Each thought arrived, found its place, and excess noise disappeared.

Then he stood and swam to the shore. He took the sword he had plunged into the ground earlier. His eyes involuntarily fell on the slime, checking if it had gone far. The slime was still there.

Zaber looked at the sword and said slowly.

"We will practice a bit with you."

Zaber took the sword in his right hand, pointed it forward and raised it upward to chest level. He bent his body slightly forward, bent his legs, and spread them a bit wider. Balance was precise, breathing even. With his left hand, he touched the middle of the sword with two fingers.

"When I was in exile in the castle, I practiced a lot with the sword and learned several techniques, but due to my weakness, it was all in vain. Now..."

He finished the words inwardly.

"Sharp straight strike."

He thrust the sword forward sharply like a spear. The air split with a short whistle.

Pointing the sword edge sideways: "Sharp strike."

He cut the air sideways; the strike was precise and controlled.

He raised the sword overhead: "Strike from above."

The sword fell forward. Then he raised the sword again and delivered several consecutive strikes. Each one connected to the previous.

Zaber straightened his posture and looked at the sword.

"A bit heavy, but manageable. Now, how does it work with real technique..."

He moved to the next stance.

Zaber cut the air disorderly. One step forward, vertical cut from the left. Half step sideways, straight strike. Pull the sword halfway back, one step forward, and strike from below upward. Pull the sword back, spin, and strike with the leg.

Straighten and two more straight strikes. Then a ninety-degree strike, one step forward. Fist strike from above with the left hand and at the same time straight upward strike from below with the sword. Stop the fist halfway, focus on the lower attack. If it is countered—head strike.

Zaber practiced the continuation of this technique for another hour. Finally, he stopped. He breathed heavily, a bit of sweat flowing from his body.

Zaber thought and said.

"This is the strangest and most incomprehensible among the techniques I learned. Mixed sword and hand combat. If I use this, I will definitely die quickly if I do not understand it. Most of it consists of ordinary movements."

"Hoooooohuuuuuu..."

He took a deep breath once.

"Time to test the sword edge. From the looks of it, my mana fully recovers in six hours. Is this because my mana is low or because of my dragon blood?"

Zaber raised the sword, held it vertically, and closed his eyes. He began channeling mana. The black sword edge darkened further, mana gathering on the sword as if black smoke was seeping out.

Zaber opened his eyes and cut the air with the sword.

A black mana dagger shape flew from the sword edge. It hit a tree, cut through it, and disintegrated in the air. The top part of the tree fell to the ground, creating dust.

Zaber’s eyes widened.

"This... this is much stronger than before..."

He looked at the sword.

"Is channeling mana perfectly suited to black mana? Surprisingly good."

With a light smile, he lowered the sword.

"I have become much stronger. I could now kill my previous self three times over, but..."

He grew serious.

"Beginner third level, that’s all."

He recalled the levels.

"Beginner. Intermediate. Advanced. Apprentice. Master. Grandmaster."

"And there are ten sub-levels between each. There are also hidden levels."

Zaber slowly nodded.

"My path has just begun. Compared to future achievements, this is nothing."

He went to sit in the shade of another tree to rest. His body was tired, but his gaze remained forward. This sword technique was the strangest and most incomprehensible style Zaber had learned.

There were no strict rules in it. No defined beginning or end. Each strike was not necessarily connected to the next. The previous attack did not dictate the following one, and the next strike denied the previous.

To someone watching this technique, it would appear as a collection of disordered movements. The sword falls from above—but does not continue from below. It thrusts forward—but turns sideways. Fist mixes in, leg enters, then sword again. Every moment was independent.

The most frightening part was that—

this technique could not be predicted in advance.

When the enemy expected the next move based on the previous strike, Zaber would already be moving in a different direction. This style nullified counterattacks because to counter, one first needed to understand. Here, there was no time to understand.

The technique could be expanded infinitely. The number of strikes was unlimited, the forms were not rigid. Every fight, every situation, even every breath changed this technique. For this reason, memorizing it was almost impossible.

This style was not suitable for ordinary warriors.

It required uncomfortable positions, loss of balance, strange twists of the body. If someone tried to copy it blindly—they would expose themselves, possibly even injure themselves.

Only masters of the highest level could use this technique. Because to understand this style required:

perfect control of the body,

feeling the movement before the mind,

and most importantly—courage to fight without rules.

That is why this sword technique was not taught in schools. It was not written about. It was not named.

It existed only in the memory of those who survived.

And Zaber had not only learned this technique.

He was adapting it to himself.

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