97 – 97 Ep. Dakia’s Sword (1)
Learning martial arts is important.
But in order to win a duel, it is essential to investigate the opponent first.
Of course, there isn’t enough time to gather information by asking around everywhere,
So I decide to collect it broadly and analyze it.
During my twelve recollections, the name Rex does not exist, possibly because the high-ranking warrior of Elvengard doesn’t have much presence.
“His name is Rex. He has been training in Meridia-style swordsmanship since his brother, a high-ranking warrior, died. Two years ago, he became a high-ranking warrior, leading fifty troops to war. He’s been clearing the dungeons in the north of Elvengard and returned today…”
“How could I run into him exactly on that day? Damn luck.”
“Aren’t you the one to talk…It’s all because of you that this problem has arisen. So why did you kill his brother?”
“Do you remember how many breads you have eaten up to now? What about the figure of the bread you ate three years ago today? The circumstances? You can’t remember, can you? It’s the same thing.”
“…”
This punk.
Is he saying he kills people as nonchalantly as he eats bread?
Suddenly, I feel dizzy.
I just got confirmation.
After learning martial arts, I must avoid Transylvania at all costs.
Having killed people like eating bread for hundreds of years, there would be full of people filled with resentment wherever he goes.
It wouldn’t be surprising if a fight breaks out while simply walking on the street.
“Try to remember.”
“Why? It’ll be over if you just kill him in the duel.”
“Then his brother will become a high-ranking warrior and come to kill me!”
“Just kill that kid too.”
“…”
I can’t reason with him.
A fellow who has lived all his life as a savage would say so.
If possible, I want to persuade Rex with words.
I don’t care about the resentment against Transylvania.
But I want to eliminate the resentment towards Yulia.
Of course, the possibility of getting through to him with words is slim.
I’ll have to beat him down and see if he kneels first.
“Try to remember somehow. It’s important.”
“Well… I’ll try. But first, we need to check your sword.”
Casually dodging, Transilvia sits down cross-legged. Because of this, his hood slightly rolls up, revealing his black underwear.
Fortunately, it wasn’t bright enough to see clearly.
Expressing gratitude for my dimmed vision, I draw the sword that has been disguised as a bag.
“It’s fascinating every time. There was no disguise magic I couldn’t detect.”
“Does asking me to show you my sword mean showing everyone from the number 0 superordinate Dahila to the 14th?”
“Show it however you want. Assume your opponent is right in front of you. Feel free to use combinations.”
A sword demonstration in front of Dahila, the founder of Owen … It’s a little embarrassing, but it can’t be helped.
“Phew…”
Taking a deep breath and dispersing energy throughout the whole body without hesitation. Then, I took a stance applying the basics of number 0 posture and charged forward performing a striking attack.
Instantly transitioning from thrust, slash, and transverse cut. Ever-flowing like water, twisting the sword striking three times.
Sometimes it shows the ability to control the distance by pressing forward or stepping back.
Of course, the speed of swinging the sword has not slowed down even once during all this time.
On the contrary, it accelerates even more rapidly.
Although I’ve learned three different sword techniques, Dahila’s was the first and most useful, so the sword is also crafted according to Dahila’s style.
On the outside, it might look like I’m wildly swinging the sword, but the shift of the center of gravity is minimal, and the sword is swung only with the power of my wrist.
Even with that limited power, the sword’s end breaks the speed of sound, blasting out a fierce shockwave.
From superordinates number 0 to 14, it feels like I’ve shown them all once or twice with uninterrupted combinations.
It’s Owen, who Transilvia showed me before.
Finishing with a long-range strike.
“Guh…”
I tried my best to make it similar.
The breeze stirred by my blade merely brushed the distant water bottle.
Couldn’t cut it, couldn’t knock it over.
Swallowing a slightly bitter follow-up taste.
Turning back, there was Transilbya, in the same posture as before.
The expression unchanged, simply observing.
For some reason, Mijung sitting next to him, seemed petrified too.
“How does it look? What’s with the silence?”
“Hm. I concede. I underestimated you. I assumed a novice who just held a sword three months ago considering your physical condition. But now it looks like you practiced for around 2 years.”
“…”
Ah.
He thinks I’ve been wielding a sword for 2 years?
In actuality, it’s been 12 years?
My years of experience has been reduced to a sixth.
But I didn’t bother to correct it.
It would be bloody embarrassing.
“There might be a possibility after all!”
Transilbya got up vigorously.
Rapidly unwrapping bandages to reveal an old wooden sword case.
And swiftly pulls out a gleaming sword from within.
Dakyia style traditionally uses a single-edged sword.
But they don’t seem to have a problem with double-edged swords, as no one pointed it out.
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“Shall we start then? From the basics.”
“What, starting from the basics?”
“Your fundamentals are all over the place. As I said, a genius adapts the swordsmanship to their body. You did adapt your body to the swordsmanship… but bizarrely. You need to start from the basics again.”
“No, no. Can it get done in just three days?”
” If we work relentlessly day and night, then maybe it’s possible.”
Damn.
Even before it began, my will was already broken.
Was I to relearn, from the basics, the skills that have ingrained themselves in me for 12 years…?
“Well. You’ve only had the sword for 3 months, so correcting you might be fast. In a sense, it’s fortunate. Now stop zoning out and hold the sword properly!”
“Ah…”
This is truly screwed up.
The transmission process of the Oui technique was hard and showed no mercy.
I could never have imagined that adjusting basics meant relearning everything from scratch.
From breathing methods to the positioning of the tip of the foot and where to look… everything.
I thought I was going mad.
Not to say there’s no flexibility.
By nature, the stance in sword fighting changes fluidly depending on the situation, terrain, and opponent.
It seems he didn’t want to intervene too much, except on grossly distorted stances.
Still, correcting the fundamental skills that have been twisted for so long was a daunting path.
I’d been practicing the sword for a full 12 years.
I had become so accustomed to it, I could execute it even unconsciously, in my sleep or while my mind was elsewhere.
It wouldn’t be easy to correct overnight.
Still, I didn’t rest and kept swinging my sword.
I corrected my form until it caused joint pains and muscle spasms.
It took a full 24 hours to grind through the basics, adjusting from the first step to the 14th.
Just when I thought I had managed to prepare myself for the next step, studying the Oui technique…
“Hmm. It’s wrong. You haven’t corrected any of it. It’s like trying to fix the body of an 80-year-old man where no matter what you do, he’ll revert back to his comfortable ways.”
“… …”
In the end, Transylvania gave up.
Nothing was corrected.
Do you realise you pushed me through hell for the past 24 hours?
“So, what should I do?”
“Hmm… Give up?”
“Hey.”
“hahahahaha. I’m joking, just a joke. There’s no other way. We can only hope you somehow manage to learn the Oui technique while still ingrained with those grotesque fundamentals.”
“… …”
She forces a smile, but the darkness seeps into Transylvania’s expression.
That guy senses it, too.
The fact that I may never master the ultimate technique in the end.
“There’s only two days left. Hurry up and teach me that long-range sword attack.”
“Long-range sword attack? If you approach it like that, you could train for a hundred days and still never grasp the ultimate technique. Correction: The essence of Dakia-style ultimate technique begins with the concept of expanding the range of attack.”
“Isn’t that just the same thing?”
“This damn fool.”
If only he would explain it properly.
The concept of expanding the range of attack?
What in the world does that mean?
It’s like some kind of koan.
“My disciple’s attitude is much worse than I expected. Is it okay to give up here?”
“Don’t make me laugh. Shouldn’t you explain it better?”
“Even if I explain it properly… The Dakia-style’s ultimate technique can be summarized in one sentence: ‘It expands the attack range.’ Adding more description under the guise of being detailed just becomes superfluous and leads to distortion.”
It expands the attack range…
Does that mean it’s not limited to just striking distant enemies?
It’s still puzzling.
“Are you really the one who created this technique? Your explanation is incredibly unhelpful.”
“I didn’t create it. I simply inherited and refined it. And yet, there’s no expression more concise and representative of the ultimate technique than this explanation-“
“Well, bring me the creator. He might explain it better.”
“He’s long dead. That’s why I completed it.”
“…”
He wasn’t the original creator?
If I could, I’d like to resurrect the original creator with necromancy to receive direct instruction.
At least he might do a better job than this guy.
“From what I see, you’re an ignorant fool, and there’s no need for you to understand with your mind. It might be much faster for you to just start moving your body and learn it that way.”
“That might… actually be true.”
I bristle at first, but quickly simmer down.
Definitely.
It was a conscienceless mindset to try to understand and comprehend the essence of swordsmanship through words.
Even if it was possible, understanding with the mind and physically executing it were different problems.
“Just follow along. Try to imitate my movements as much as possible. If you haven’t gained enlightenment in your mind, then you have no choice but to repeat it infinitely until you achieve it through your body. Eventually, you will feel something different from usual. Dive deep into that feeling.”
Tran Silvia took a stance resembling the 0th posture by pulling the sword back.
And with a cracking sound, the blade of the sword cut through the air.
The gust generated along the blade cut a water barrel in half.
“Is it creating a strong gust of wind with the blade?”
“What? Wind?! No! That’s not it!”
“That’s correct.”
“Well, if it’s easier to understand it that way. Phenomenologically, it’s not wrong and it’s difficult to refute. Just try swinging it with the mindset of creating wind for now.”
Reacting intensely for a moment, Tran Silvia soon sighed in resignation and stepped back.
Did this guy just give up?
Seems like it.
“What does it mean to expand the range of attack? Those swordsmen always love showing off their bullsh*t stances…”
Crack. Crack.
With each swing of the sword, a cracking sound similar to what Tran Silvia made resounded.
However, the subsequent phenomena were completely different.
Even if I compare it to the video playback, the judging panel will determine that all the movements are exactly the same.
But the wind that grazed from my sword.
It only seemed to slightly cut through the air before dissipating in an instant.
I don’t even feel anything different from usual.
“Is this really all there is? Is there nothing more to teach?”
“That’s right. From now on, it’s your inner problem.”
Crack. Crack.
I try slightly changing the angle of the blade.
I try lifting my heels.
I try narrowing my shoulders and try all sorts of bullsh*t, but the result stays the same.
No, I just end up in a state of confusion.
Of course, I didn’t expect to master the essence in just a few hours since I started.
Only a mere demonstration and an concept of ‘expanding the attack range’ were left, and now I have to realize it on my own?
This isn’t even a college textbook, the progress is too fast, too rapid.
“You seem too obsessed with the accuracy of your stance. You don’t need to make your stance match mine. Ultimately, when you realize ‘Oh,’ you will be able to strike places that a sword can’t, regardless of your stance or the sword you wield.”
“But why are you telling me this now!”
Have I been swinging my sword stupidly for about three hours now?
Seemingly frustrated watching me, Transilvania comes out, holding a sword again and freely launching long-distance sword strikes in various stances.
Even with one hand.
That’s when I finally realized.
‘Oh’ wasn’t a specific technique, was it?
So, it didn’t require a specific posture either.
‘It’s not like I’m practicing Buddhism. What on earth am I doing?’
So, once you attain ‘enlightenment,’ you can freely shoot sword strikes like magic…
What kind of concept is this?
Does this even make sense?
“…… Water.”
“Hoo.”
After gulping down the water Mijeong hands me,
I swing my sword again.
Endlessly.
In a stupid way.
Knowing that the posture wasn’t important, I tried changing my posture according to my convenience…
Changing it doesn’t seem right, only a sense that ‘this isn’t it’ comes.
I don’t feel at all like I’m about to understand ‘Oh.’
‘I’ve really screwed this up.’
On the second day, I had a gut feeling.
I guess my body just isn’t capable of grasping ‘Oh’.
But Transilvania’s gaze on me from the corner is strange.
I thought for sure she had given up on me, resolved.
I thought she would be doing something else, but she seemed to be sitting upright, watching me all this time.
“Why are you staring at me? Continue on.”
“······.”
If something seems off, then point it out.
Silently observing is a whole other thing.
Seems like we’re screwed.
.
.
.
‘What’s that?’
Swish. Swoosh.
In the expansive warehouse, swords continuously sliced through the air.
Transylvania couldn’t take her eyes off the resplendent sword tip for a second.
‘It’s like·····.’
It’s strange.
It seemed fervently eager to imitate Tranyslvania’s sword movements.
Yet, Eugene’s sword couldn’t contrast more with hers.
At first, he merely swung his sword awkwardly.
It even seemed like a makeshift training session for customary stabbing techniques.
But with each swing of his sword.
Subtle changes began to emerge.
Tiny shifts that Transylvania barely noticed while continuously watching.
And the one swinging the sword, the man himself, would’ve noticed even less of these subtleties.
The changes generated by these tiny fissures were simple.
Initially, the movements were merely imitating Transylvania’s sword.
Gradually, they were becoming Eugene’s.
The clumsiness was disappearing more and more.
And skillfulness was seeping in.
And that was toxic, rather than a positive sign.
·····If it were a typical case.
Interpreting and modifying a swordsman’s initial movements is essentially a taboo.
Doing such a thing will turn all the links with other initial movements into a complete mess.
But after mastering all the basic forms.
What if one is capable of not just learning a single basic form, but modifying all basic forms to their own liking?
That would be more of a domain of creation, not modification.
Occasionally, such geniuses appear, creating new schools of swordsmanship.
They even establish entirely new types of swordsmanship.
Does Yujin belong to this class of genius?
No. Definitely not.
Yujin didn’t even care about the connection between the basic forms, let alone modifying them to his own liking.
He is a layman who cannot even properly grasp the first button, the basic principle.
So, when Yujin first demonstrated an action sequence of a basic form,
Transilvia was taken aback.
Such messy movements,
Sequentially linked with other damaged, inefficient basic forms.
It’s not clean,
But it’s connected, albeit groaning.
It was unbelievable.
How could each different basic form, adjusted to suit the perpetrator’s body, be connected like this?
A coincidence so astonishing that it takes your breath away.
Or, it was the extreme inefficiency that could only be achieved through constant agony over a decade.
It was not a stubbornness of someone who just picked up the sword for one or two days.
Though he might have the idea in his mind that he needs to fix it, his body does not.
Knowing full well that any attempts to correct would just flawlessly regress, Transilvia gave up on correcting the basics early on.
He just let Yujin’s sword, whose stamina and energy efficiency were all messed up, be.
So even if Yujin tried to imitate Transilvia, it could only become a completely different movement.
No matter how hard he tried, it would just become a slightly different replica.
“Huh…?”
Even though it looked similar to Transelevia, it was a completely different movement.
Chasing Yujin’s sword tip,
Transilvia felt a strange premonition.
“A replica?”
It was a sword that seemed familiar.
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It was more than just a simple déjà vu.
It was an old memory that had evaporated and sunk into the unconscious, subtly coming back to life.
Tran Silbia delved into the depths of memory,
Struggling to recall the origin of that memory that came to mind at the end of great effort.
The founder of swordcraft.
The sword of Dakia.
The sword that Tran Silbia had imitated.
‘Which one is the copy?’
Tran Silbia’s sword was a mimicry of Dakia’s, which had perished first.
He codified the principle, which Dakia was not fully able to complete, imperfectly.
He had forgotten about it until now.
It appeared perfect, without a single flaw, but…
Tran Silbia’s Dakian principle was merely a lukewarm copy.
Initially, he thought that if only Eugene could mimic the copy perfectly, nothing more would be needed.
But now…
His faith was shaken.
‘It’s like…’
A clone of a clone should turn into an even poorer version that’s normal.
Yet, it seemed as if Eugene’s sword gradually overlapped with Dakia’s.
‘It’s akin to Dakia’s sword.’
The sword of Dakia that Tran Silbia had been chasing all his life was being shaped by the hands of a stranger.
Imitating an imitation.
It was a strange phenomena where the original emerged.