For the next few days, Percy grew more obsessed with Cloudeater. He cleaned and used it repeatedly, early in the morning or late at night randomly.

The system supported his fascination by giving him daily quests that had to do with using the sword.

And he was nearing a critical point with his Arete training too because of this, getting better at dividing his spirit into two parts, one to enhance the katana, the other to enhance his body.

Early in the morning Percy found himself meditating at one of Sonea's courtyards. Despite how early it was, the city was still alive, albeit dragging its feet. People milled around as they prepared for the day.

The sun rose over the horizon, dying the sky red, and its light reached through the gaps in the houses and landed on the fountain at the center of the courtyard. The light fell on Percy and he opened his eyes, which constantly changed from shades of grey to purple.

His black and white hair rustled in the chilly wind of the morning, but the heat of the sun revived him. Down on his lap was Cloudeater.

He grabbed the blue handle of the katana, drawing it with a metallic ring, like releasing a held breath.

Something was troubling him about his Fighting spirit. There was no way to quantify or measure this, but he had a nagging feeling there was more spirit in his sword than his arm. Like he wasn't dividing it equally.

Today was supposed to be his first day of learning the training style of the Blood Demon school. They usually cut themselves to train the strength of their spirit, testing their will to cut against their will not to be cut.

That was how Thalos explained it. You divide your spirit between your sword and skin, enhance the sword to cut, enhance your skin to resist being cut.

He assumed this was about finding a balance between defence and offense, but it seemed he was sorely mistaken. It was impossible to fully split your spirit for some reason.

Maybe it was just him sucking at it, but he had a hunch that it was more related to his mentality. That was often how most things were in Arete.

A set of sharp footsteps drew him from his thoughts. He looked up and found Thalos walking towards him, purposely announcing his arrival to draw Percy out of his trance.

"What's wrong, son?"

Percy shrugged at first, thinking of just brushing off his suspicions, but at the root of that feeling was probably the desire not to look weak in front of his dad. Which made no sense because Thalos could probably tell him what was wrong.

"My spirit, I can't divide it equally between my sword and skin. Or at least that's how I feel, there is no way of checking."

"Of course you can't, it's impossible," Thalos said in a matter-of-fact tone, but Percy knew he was happy to say that. "Your will to do one thing can never be equal to your will to do another thing. Our wills are often split between what is most important in that situation or what we value the most."

Putting aside Thalos' joy at his confusion, Percy understood what he meant. In fact it made complete sense, based on how he had been using Fighting spirit lately. When he needed to prevent immediate harm, his spirit reacted faster and more accurately.

But that did pose a unique challenge to his training.

"Doesn't that mean I'll always cut myself? Since my will to cut is always greater than my will to protect myself?"

"Well, not really," Thalos said with an unsure face. "This is going to be hard to explain, but you aren't enhancing Cloudeater to cut. You're instead protecting Cloudeater with your spirit."

He froze as Thalos' words registered in his mind. It all made sense now. After all, Thalos said will is divided more based on immediate harm or what we value.

Cloudeater in the last few weeks had overtaken his mind, and he was more worried about damaging the blade than he let on. So he shaped his Fighting spirit to protect the sword rather than enhancing it's cutting ability

"What a strange feeling. Especially for something I got just a few days ago."

"It's called Sword fever in our school," Thalos explained, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "It happens when you meld your spirit with the spirit of the sword. It affects new people more, but I've seen warriors, mostly ones without schools, become consumed by the whims of their sword."

He shivered at the thought of being bound by Cloudeater's playful will. At that point he would attack random people just to test his skills. People consumed by Sword Fever must be a serious problem in more lawless cities.

And almost anyone can learn Arete, and even make it to Rank 3 if they train hard enough.

"But people that train with formal Arete schools don't get Sword fever? How do they avoid it?"

"They actually still feel some symptoms," Thalos corrected, eyes growing distant with memory, "but by using the training method you can fight it. Once Cloudeater cuts you a couple times, you'll be less obsessed."

Thalos laughed as he said this but Percy was a bit upset by the thought of just cutting himself. But if that was what it took to practice then so be it.

"Let's start then."

Thalos nodded, turning to face him. He drew Marrowbiter slowly and laid it flat on his left forearm.

"Let's start with the mantra: Destroy death, destroy chaos, destroy demons, I will face myself—focus on your sword with this part. Next, protect my heart, protect my head, protect my love, I can't lose to you—that part you focus on when you focus on your arm."

He repeated the mantra slowly and repeatedly for at least ten minutes, feeling every curve and inconsistency in his spirit and perfecting it. He could feel the difference in Fighting spirit between his sword and arm more clearly.

Thalos' Fighting spirit was also easier to feel, but he tried ignoring it. He repeated the mantra and tried to move his spirit and create a balance.

With his eyes closed, he couldn't even tell where the sword ended and his hand began. His body felt cold, sharp, but not emotionless like he felt when he used Thalos' sword, Marrowbiter. Rather, Cloudeater transferred its sharp excitement to be used.

Despite naming his katana similarly to his father, Cloudeater had a vastly different feel to Marrowbiter.

After a long bout of thinking, Percy finally placed the sword over his hand and drew a line without hesitation.

But when he opened his eyes he found no cuts. That should mean his defense was stronger, but it didn't feel like that.

"Hmmm, doesn't seem like your defence or offence was stronger there," Thalos said. "Sharpen your blade or make your skin tougher."

He clicked his tongue, it wasn't as easy as just wanting to cut harder. But he closed his eyes and got back to it. Cutting and chanting till he wasn't even saying the mantra out loud anymore.

His focus and frustration grew with each cut, but after a few tries he managed to make his defense stronger at least. The sword couldn't even graze his skin, he'd need more force to cut.

So unconsciously he started cutting harder and using Cloudeater's spirit to balance his will. Before he knew it a sharp prick made him jump. His eyes opened to find a small cut on his arm.

The blood dripped slowly and Percy smiled unconsciously. Before he could say anything the sound of footsteps found them.

It was Flynn, looking incredibly out of breath. Her red hair clung to her pale, sweaty face. They didn't have a chance to say anything when she shouted.

"Barty is back from Carmen. And he brought Hugo with him!"

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