“Start from the basics.”
Lomio stood in the center of the training grounds, his Dragon Sword pointing diagonally at the ground.
The morning light fell on him, outlining his already perfect face with a somewhat cold, hard silhouette.
Ibuki Rei gripped her hilt tightly. She could feel that his aura was completely different than before.
‘So much for being moved by money… cough, cough, mutual assistance, and that’s all there is to it!’
“Your first strike just now—your starting stance was a middle guard, right?”
Lomio raised the Dragon Sword, assuming the exact same posture as Ibuki Rei.
“Yes.”
Ibuki Rei nodded. This was the standard starting stance she had practiced since childhood. The tip of the blade pointed at the opponent’s throat, her center of gravity was lowered, and she was ready to change moves at any time.
“It’s standard, and it’s beautiful,” Lomio said, suddenly moving.
A flash of blade-light.
Before Ibuki Rei could react, the tip of Lomio’s sword was already 3 inches in front of her forehead.
“But it’s useless.”
Lomio sheathed his sword and took a step back.
“Your starting stance is too proper—so proper that I can see exactly what move you’re going to make next at a glance. Swordsmanship should be ever-changing, something to be used as needed. Being tied down by form and tradition will only lead you down a long detour.”
Ibuki Rei froze.
“How is that possible? The middle guard is the most balanced posture, capable of both offense and defense — “
“Capable of both offense and defense means you can’t do either well,” Lomio interrupted her. “Do you think combat is a game of chess? That it gives you time to think about your next move?”
He raised the Dragon Sword.
“True combat is all about the first strike.”
“The first strike determines life and death.”
“The only purpose of that starting stance of yours is to tell your opponent, ‘I haven’t figured out how to cut you yet.'”
Ibuki Rei bit her lip. She wanted to argue, but in that moment just now, she truly hadn’t been able to react.
“Try again.”
Lomio reassumed the middle guard.
“Look closely.”
His body leaned forward slightly, and the tip of the blade pressed down 0.5 inches.
With just that subtle change, Ibuki Rei felt that his aura had completely shifted. Before, it was balance. Now, it was oppression.
“Where is the difference?” Lomio asked.
Ibuki Rei stared at his sword, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
“The center of gravity… moved forward?”
“Correct.” Lomio nodded. “A forward center of gravity means I’m ready to attack at any moment. Your instincts will force you to defend. And defending means handing over the initiative.”
He dropped the stance.
“The Way of the Sword emphasizes etiquette, so you’re used to striking a beautiful pose and waiting for the opponent to move first. But on the battlefield, the grass on the graves of those who wait for the opponent to move first is already 3 feet tall.”
Ibuki Rei’s hand holding the sword trembled slightly. It wasn’t fear; it was excitement. She had never heard anyone deconstruct swordsmanship like this. Crude, direct, but impossible to refute.
“Next, I’ll dismantle your second strike.” Lomio raised the Dragon Sword. “Your second strike just now was a diagonal slash, right?”
“Yes.”
“The angle was from the right shoulder to the left waist—a standard *kesa-giri*.” Lomio spoke as he swung. The movement was exactly the same as Ibuki Rei’s. “The problem with this strike is that the trajectory is too obvious.”
He pulled back and swung again.
This time, the trajectory changed. It was still a diagonal slash, but the angle was more cunning and the speed was faster.
“See the difference?”
Ibuki Rei’s eyes widened. “You… shortened the distance of your swing?”
“Correct.” Lomio nodded. “Your *kesa-giri* starts from behind the shoulder and traces a large arc. It looks good and has momentum, but it’s slow. My strike starts from the front of the shoulder and slashes down in a straight line. It’s ugly and lacks momentum, but it’s fast.”
He looked at Ibuki Rei.
“Combat isn’t a performance. Being 1 second faster means living 1 second longer.”
Ibuki Rei’s breathing quickened. She suddenly realized that everything she had learned over the past dozen or so years was nothing but flowery nonsense in this man’s eyes.
“Again.”
Lomio continued the deconstruction. The third, fourth, and fifth strikes. For every strike, he could accurately point out the problem and provide a solution.
His explanation style was extremely direct. There was no metaphysical talk about “sinking qi into the dantian” or “focusing the mind on the sword’s heart.” It was all concrete corrections like “slow here,” “wrong angle there,” or “center of gravity is off.”
Ibuki Rei became more and more absorbed. She even forgot she was paying credits. At this moment, all she wanted was to learn everything.
“One last problem.” Lomio put away the Dragon Sword. “Just like I said before, your sword lacks killing intent.”
Mentioning this topic again made Ibuki Rei show a rare look of distress. Killing intent toward a companion who had saved her at a critical moment and provided so much help? Just based on his appearance alone, Ibuki Rei felt she might not be able to harden her heart!
“Killing intent… please explain further.”
“Well, for example…” Lomio looked at her. “What are you thinking about when you swing your sword?”
Ibuki Rei opened her mouth. “Thinking about… making the form standard?”
“Well, that’s the problem.” Lomio shook his head. “You should be thinking: ‘Will this strike cut the opponent’s neck or their arm?’ Or ‘If I parry their attack, where will my next strike land?’ ‘What is the opponent’s class, and how will they defend against your attack?'”
Ibuki Rei’s pupils contracted. “But… this is the Academy, not a battlefield — “
“That’s why you’ll lose,” Lomio interrupted her. “Whether it’s the Way of the Sword or sword techniques, their essence is the art of killing. If you treat it as a technique, it will only be a technique. But if you treat it as a weapon, it can truly become a weapon.”
He raised the Dragon Sword, the tip pointing at Ibuki Rei.
“Try again. This time, swing with the mindset of killing me.”
Ibuki Rei gripped the hilt. She took a deep breath and adjusted her rhythm.
Then, she moved.
This strike was faster than any before. The blade pointed straight at Lomio’s throat without any flashy movements.
A hint of approval flashed in Lomio’s eyes. He stepped aside to dodge and reached out at the same time.
*Clap.*
His palm pressed against Ibuki Rei’s wrist.
“The strength is right, but the wrist is too stiff,” his voice whispered in her ear.
Ibuki Rei froze. Too close! Lomio’s palm was on her wrist, his warmth transferring through her skin. She could even hear his breathing!
“The wrist must be relaxed so the power can transmit to the tip of the blade.”
Saying this, Lomio held her wrist and turned it gently. “Like this.”
Ibuki Rei felt her wrist being moved by a soft force. Then, the sword in her hand suddenly felt light.
“Can you feel it?” Lomio let go.
Ibuki Rei nodded blankly. She looked down at her hand. In that moment, she had definitely felt the difference. It was as if the sword had come alive.
“Try again.”
Lomio took a step back.
Ibuki Rei gripped the sword and swung it again. This time, she deliberately relaxed her wrist, taking the feeling from just now and making it her own.
*Clang!*
Though nothing was cut, the blade in her hand let out a sword hum! The trajectory became smoother, and the speed increased significantly.
Lomio’s voice suddenly rang out. Ibuki Rei snapped back to her senses, her expression instantly becoming flustered.
“I—I’m sorry!”
‘How am I supposed to learn like this?!’