Neville moved through the open sky, the sword steady beneath his feet as he adjusted his balance with small, controlled shifts. The motion no longer felt unfamiliar. What had once required full concentration now responded more naturally, his body adjusting without hesitation as he changed direction, slowed, and accelerated again.
At first, learning this had taken time.
The initial attempts had been rough, requiring constant correction to maintain balance and direction. But after repeated use, the control began to settle. The anti-magic flowing through his legs into the blade responded more smoothly, allowing him to stabilize himself without overthinking every movement.
Now, it felt different.
Not effortless.
But natural.
He leaned slightly forward, increasing speed. The sword responded immediately, gliding through the air with a steady, controlled motion. A small adjustment of pressure shifted his direction, and he turned smoothly without losing balance.
He slowed again, stopping within seconds, hovering in place.
The response was immediate.
Direct.
That was the difference.
He had tried using a broom before.
It was easier to use at first. The lift came naturally, and maintaining position required little effort. But every movement needed deliberate control. Turning, stopping, or changing speed took practice. It responded well, but it always felt like he was riding something separate from himself.
The sword was not like that.
Once the anti-magic settled, the movement felt connected. It followed his intent directly. He didn't need to think about commands or adjustments in the same way. If he wanted to stop, it stopped. If he wanted to turn, it turned.
It required control, but once he adjusted to it, the movement became easier to handle.
---
He rose higher.
Clouds drifted below him now, spreading across the sky in soft layers. The air grew colder as he moved above them, the space opening into a wide, uninterrupted stretch.
For a while, he simply moved.
Forward.
Then sideways.
Then stopping again.
Testing control, adjusting speed, confirming that the response remained consistent even at this height.
Then the sword pulled.
It was slight at first.
A faint resistance when he tried to change direction. The forward motion carried a subtle weight, as if something ahead was drawing the blade.
Neville slowed immediately.
He adjusted his stance and tested it.
He turned slightly to the left.
The pull remained.
He reduced speed further, hovering in place as he focused on the sensation.
It wasn't random.
It was consistent.
"…Something's there."
He did not rush forward.
Instead, he allowed the movement gradually, maintaining control while following the direction the sword was being drawn toward.
As he moved closer, the sky began to change.
The clouds ahead thickened unnaturally, forming dense layers that blocked the light. The air carried a pressure that hadn't been present before, heavy and still in a way that felt wrong.
Neville slowed again.
This wasn't normal weather.
He looked ahead carefully.
Something moved inside the clouds.
At first, it was only a shadow, shifting between the darker layers. Then a flash of light cut through the sky, illuminating a massive shape for a brief moment.
Wings.
Large enough to cover the cloud layer itself.
Neville's eyes narrowed slightly as he focused.
Another flash.
This time, he saw it clearly.
The Thunderbird moved within the storm, its massive wings stirring the clouds as lightning gathered and spread around it, the air itself shifting with each movement. For a brief moment, it remained within the storm, then its motion slowed as if it had sensed something out of place. The creature turned, its attention locking onto Neville's presence, and the change was immediate—the surrounding lightning sharpened, gathering with intent as it reacted to something that did not belong in its territory.
The first bolt came instantly.
Not near him.
At him.
Neville reacted without hesitation.
Anti-magic surged through his legs, maintaining his position in the air as he stepped off the sword. At the same time, he pulled the blade into his hands and brought it forward, turning the flat surface outward.
The lightning struck.
The impact spread across the width of the blade and deflected outward, breaking into scattered arcs that dissipated into the surrounding air.
The force pushed against him.
But his position held.
anti-magic stabilizing beneath his feet as the next strikes formed.
Several bolts followed at once.
Neville moved.
He rotated the sword in front of him, accelerating the motion as anti-magic flowed into the blade. The wide surface created a continuous defensive arc, intercepting each incoming strike and deflecting them away before they could reach him.
Lightning struck repeatedly.
Each impact carried force, pressing against him even as it deflected away. Maintaining both his position and the rotation required constant control, anti-magic split between his legs and the blade.
The pressure increased.
The force of the impacts began pushing him downward.
Neville adjusted immediately.
He allowed the descent, controlling it instead of resisting, maintaining the rotation of the sword as he dropped through the air. Each bolt struck the spinning blade and deflected away, but the cumulative force continued to drive him lower.
The ground approached quickly.
At the right moment, he shifted.
The rotation stopped.
The sword dropped beneath his feet again as anti-magic surged downward. The blade caught his descent and redirected it forward, stabilizing his movement just above the ground.
He accelerated without pause.
The forest ahead closed in.
---
He entered the trees at speed, maintaining low altitude as he moved between them. The canopy blocked the sky above, cutting off the direct line of attack.
Behind him, lightning struck.
The bolts tore through the outer edges of the forest, splitting branches and striking the ground, but they did not follow him inside.
Neville did not slow until he reached deeper cover.
Then he stopped.
The sword steadied beneath him as he brought his breathing under control.
He looked back toward the sky, though it was hidden now by the trees.
Neville slowed his steps as the tension in his body gradually settled, but his attention remained fixed in that direction for a moment longer. He hadn't expected that. One moment he had been flying freely above the clouds, and the next he had run straight into something like that.
A Thunderbird.
Even without knowing every detail, he understood enough. That wasn't something ordinary. It was the kind of magical creature that wasn't meant to be approached casually, especially not in its own territory.
He exhaled slowly, adjusting his grip on the sword.
"…Need to be more careful next time."
Flying higher didn't just give him more freedom. It also meant running into things he wasn't prepared to handle yet.
His gaze dropped to the blade in his hand. The surface had darkened slightly, the change subtle but clear enough now that he paid attention to it.
The problem wasn't just what he had encountered.
It was how he handled it.
He had managed to defend. He had stayed in the air. He had escaped. But all of it had been forced through a single point. The moment the pressure increased, that limitation became obvious.
One sword wasn't enough.
Neville remained quiet for a moment, thinking it through as he continued walking.
If anti-magic worked better through metal, then there was no reason to rely on only one medium.
Gloves could handle defense.
Boots could support movement.
Multiple points would make control easier instead of forcing everything through the blade.
The idea settled quickly in his mind.
That would fix the weakness.
Neville turned and continued back toward the estate, his pace steady now.
From now on, he would prepare for more than just training.