Lieutenant Dante led Northern to a secluded part of the forest, its dense shadows providing a makeshift training ground. The black soil beneath their feet was firm enough here, having dried sowhat compared to the saturated ground they'd passed earlier.
The world fell silent around them, the rustle of plagued trees fading into the background.
"First," Dante said, drawing his sword with deliberate slowness, "forget everything you think you know about fighting."
Northern raised an eyebrow but remained silent.
"Combat isn't about the flashiest technique or the most powerful strike. It's about efficiency." Dante assud a basic stance, feet shoulder-width apart, sword held at a diagonal across his body. "Watch carefully."
He executed a simple horizontal slash through the air. The movent was so clean, so precise, that it seed to leave a lingering trace in the crimson air.
"Now you try. Just like that."
Northern mimicked the stance and slashed. His movent was faster, more powerful-but lacked the sa clean precision.
He stopped and looked at Dante who seed to be thinking with his hands resting on his sword.
"Again," Dante commanded. "But this ti, feel how your weight shifts. Every motion in combat starts from the ground up."
Northern repeated the slash, this ti paying attention to his footwork. He used not just his hand but his entire body to swing.
The movent felt different-more controlled.
"Better." Dante nodded. "Now watch this."
The Lieutenant perford the sa basic slash, but this ti it flowed into a complex sequence of movents.
His blade danced through the air in his signature style-elegant, efficient, deadly.
Each motion flowed perfectly into the next, like water coursing through a carefully constructed channel.
"I don't know what style and form you have built so far in battle, but form serves as a drive core which you use to create a flowing sequence. With a strong form and footwork to ground the basis, you will find your slashes easy to link and adapt into each other."
Dante explained, continuing his demonstration.
"But without understanding the fundantal principles, you're like a river without banks- power dispersed rather than focused."
The Lieutenant was right; this was the norm. Form was the personality of combat. No two combat styles could share the sa form.
Perhaps their basics could share the sa principles and rules of form, but there was bound to be slight differences that in the long run deviate to create their own unique personality.
But the problem was, Northern did not believe in form. He saw it as a limitation. Perhaps Formless was a form of its own kind, perhaps it eviscerated the concept of form and made it make no sense.
Northern was not sure, but the one thing he knew was that contrary to what anyone would say when the matter is presented to them-formlessness is impossible.
It had been made possible because of the attribute, which he has because of his corelessness. 'This might an that I am the only one in this world that can do it?'
He grinned and returned his focus to Lieutenant Dante who continued to demonstrate a unique sequence of sword strikes.
Northern carefully watched how the Lieutenant swung every slice of his sword with the sa precision; when he broke into a linked combo swing, the effort put into each swing's strength did not break at all, not even in the slightest.
His eyes widened slightly as he began to see the underlying structure in Dante's movents. The Lieutenant's style wasn't just about the sword-it was about turning his entire body into a weapon, using montum and balance to create devastating combinations.
"I have seen you move. Your current fighting style relies heavily on overwhelming power and adaptability," Dante continued, coming to a stop. "But imagine combining that with perfect technical execution."
Northern's eyes glead with understanding-for a mont he was worried as to why he found this so easy to understand; it was almost like he couldn't wait to start fighting already.
But he quickly dismissed the eagerness and assud the basic stance again, this ti feeling how each part of his body connected to the whole.
He had done it before but it wasn't just about the swing; it was about before the swing started.
'I wonder if I can use Spatial awareness to be more aware of my body than usual.'
Northern focused on his surroundings. Then streamlined to the center; it was like seeing everything but one's eyes.
Then focusing on those eyes that could not be seen. Only that with spatial awareness, it was possible to see beyond the area of sight.
It was not really sight to be candid. It was just being aware of oneself.
That way Northern was able to grasp more vividly his entire body.
All this, he did while still maintaining a perfect hold of his surroundings; he naturally felt his awareness beco more potent as he pushed it.
He could now be more aware of his surroundings and himself, not jeopardizing one for the
other.
When he slashed, the movent was different-the result was a powerful wind that swung the rigid trees.
It was devastating but with a new level of control.
Dante widened his eyes for a mont. 'What in the world? He grabbed that easily? I thought I'd just give him the lesson and leave him practicing after the rift. But he got it instantly? How does that make any sense?!'
These basics were sothing that scions of renowned clans and nobility spent their entire childhood learning. It usually took at least five years to be able to master such level of control. The result of Northern's strike spoke well for itself. He had done it in just a mont.
'It could have just been luck; let not get ahead of myself.'
Lieutenant Dante tried to hide the look on his face. He nodded at Northern.
"Good. Now let's break down the basic forms. There are eight fundantal angles of attack, and mastering them is the key to developing any personal style."
For the next hour, Dante thodically demonstrated each form, explaining how they connected and flowed into one another.
Northern absorbed everything with intense focus. As Dante was demonstrating with form, he was dismantling the form and laboriously rging those principles into his Formlessness.
He was grasping and adapting the fundantal concepts of combat to his own attribute with remarkable speed.
What impressed Dante most wasn't Northern's raw talent or quick learning-it was his
patience.
Despite his imnse power, Northern approached each basic movent with the sa focused dedication as if he were learning to hold a sword for the first ti.
"Your style will develop naturally," Dante explained as they worked through a complex sequence. "The fundantals aren't chains to restrict you- they're foundations to build upon. Once you truly understand them, you can break them deliberately rather than
accidentally."
Northern nodded, having already seen how these principles could enhance his combat
capabilities.
Dante looked up. "We should rejoin the rest for now. So we can have our rest as well,
especially you."
Dante brought his gaze to et Northern's.
"You can't tell that destructive ability isn't expending sothing in you."
Northern's expression was somber for a brief mont, his face darkened but quickly glowed
back with resolve.
The Lieutenant was right; there was a price to pay, only that it wasn't sothing that could be
fixed by resting.
But of course, he still needed the rest all the sa. After all, all his muscles were sore from all
the fighting. Northern responded with a tired sigh. "You are right. I need as much rest as I can get."
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