Learning the secrets is important, but…
To win a match, you first need to investigate your counterpart.
Of course, I don’t have time to gather information by poking around everywhere.
So I’ll just collect what I can and analyze it.
The high-ranked warrior of Elvenguard doesn’t seem very memorable; hence, Rex’s name hasn’t appeared in my memories from the 12th cycle.
“His name is Rex. After his older brother, a high-ranked warrior, died, he trained in Merida-style swordsmanship. Two years ago, he became a high-ranked warrior and led a troop of 50 into battle. He cleared out the dungeons in the north of Elvenguard and just returned today…”
“How can we run into him on that exact day? What rotten luck we have.”
“Are you in a position to say that? Isn’t this all your fault? Why did that punk have to kill your brother?”
“Do you remember how many loaves of bread you’ve eaten? Do you remember what the bread looked like three years ago today? What led to you eating it? You can’t remember, right? It’s the same thing.”
“······.”
This guy.
Did he kill people like he eats bread?
Suddenly, I feel a bit dizzy.
I just got a hunch.
After I learn the secrets, I’ll have to keep my distance from Transylvania.
He’s been killing people indiscriminately for centuries, no wonder he’s surrounded by enemies wherever he goes.
It’s no surprise if I get into a scuffle while just walking down the street.
“Try to remember.”
“Why would I? Just kill you in the match and be done with it.”
“If that happens, his younger brother would become a high-ranked warrior and come after me!”
“Then just kill that guy too.”
“······.”
This guy’s impossible to reason with.
He’s lived like a savage all his life; I guess that’s expected.
If possible, I’d like to persuade Rex through words.
I don’t care about the grudge toward Transylvania, but I want to eliminate any resentment towards Yulia.
Of course, the chance of him understanding is slim.
For now, I’ll just have to beat him up and make him kneel before I figure things out.
“Try to remember in any way you can. It’s important.”
“Well… I’ll try. But first, I need to see your sword.”
Trying to brush it off, Transylvania sits cross-legged.
As a result, his hoodie rides up slightly, revealing the black leggings underneath.
Fortunately, it was dark, so I couldn’t see much.
Grateful to my pitiful eyesight.
I pull out the sword I disguised as a bag.
“Every time I see it, it’s fascinating. I’ve never encountered a disguise magic that I couldn’t detect.”
“Are you asking to see Dakia-style techniques from number 0 to number 14?”
“Show me freely. Imagine the opponent is right in front of you. Feel free to connect your moves.”
A demonstration of swordsmanship in front of the creator of Dakia-style secrets…
It’s a bit embarrassing, but there’s no helping it.
“Huff…”
Taking a deep breath.
I lavishly use my mana, scattering it throughout my body.
Then I assume a stance inspired by technique 0.
I lunge forward with a thrust.
Immediately following with a disengagement and a lateral slash.
Without pausing, I twist the sword gracefully, striking down.
Sometimes I advance aggressively.
Sometimes I retreat to adjust distance.
And during all this, I never slow down my sword speed.
In fact, it only accelerates.
Though I’m familiar with three different sword techniques, I’ve just begun learning Dakia-style, and it’s the one I use most effectively.
Hence, my sword is made in accordance with the Dakia style.
At first glance, it appears I’m swinging my sword wildly, but…
There’s hardly any change in balance, and I’m simply wielding it with wrist strength alone.
That little force alone breaks the sound barrier, creating a chilling whrush.
From technique 0 to technique 14.
I think I’ve demonstrated each of them at least once, thanks to the ongoing connections.
Following the long-distance thrust Transylvania had demonstrated before.
Ugh…
I was trying my best to mimic it.
But the wind generated by my sword only slightly stirred the distant water barrel.
I couldn’t cut or knock it over.
Swallowing a bitter taste down my throat, I turn to find Transylvania watching me with the same expression as before, his demeanor unchanged.
For some reason, Mi Jeong sitting next to him has also stiffened.
“What do you think? Why so quiet?”
“Um, I’ll admit it. I underestimated you. I thought you were just some rookie who picked up a sword three months ago looking at your condition. Now I see you’ve probably trained for around two years.”
“······.”
Oh.
He thinks I’ve been swinging a sword for two years?
In reality, it’s been 12!
My experience has suddenly been reduced to one-sixth.
But I didn’t feel the need to voice that.
That’d be too embarrassing.
“There might not be zero chance, you know!”
Transylvania abruptly stands up.
With a whoosh, he unwraps the old wooden sword scabbard.
From it, he swiftly pulls out a dao.
Dakia-style originally uses a single-edged sword.
But it seems using a double-edged one is also okay; no one commented on it.
“Then shall we begin? From the basics.”
“What? Starting with the basics?”
“Your foundation is a mess. I told you— a genius adapts techniques to their body. You’ve adapted the techniques to your body, but… you’ve twisted them hideously. We need to start from the basics.”
“No, I mean… in just three days? Is that even possible?”
“It may be possible if you don’t rest day and night.”
This is bad.
I’m about to lose my motivation before I even begin.
To redo the foundation that took me 12 years to acquire, from the very start…?
“Well, it’s only been three months since you picked up a sword, so correcting it shouldn’t take long. In a way, that’s a relief. Now! Stop daydreaming! Hold your sword properly!”
“Ah…”
This is really messed up.
The process of imparting the secrets is brutal and merciless.
I didn’t know that correcting the basics meant changing everything from start to finish.
From breathing methods to the angle of my toes and line of sight…
I felt like I was going crazy.
That said, it’s not that they aren’t flexible.
Sword positions typically change based on the situation, terrain, and opponent.
Except for the deformed posture, it seems they didn’t want to correct anything else.
Of course, even so, correcting a foundation that’s already twisted is a very arduous path.
It’s a technique that’s been ingrained in my body for 12 long years.
I could wield it even in my sleep, almost to the point where just thinking would trigger a strike.
There’s no way fixing that overnight will be easy.
Still, I swung my sword tirelessly.
My joints ached, and my muscles twitched as I adjusted my stance.
It took a full 24 hours to reform the foundation, correcting techniques 0 through 14.
I thought I was finally ready to learn the secrets, but…
“Hmm. Wrong. Nothing’s corrected. Your body resembles that of an 80-year-old man, so even if we try to correct it, you’ll just grab the sword in your own comfort again.”
“······.”
Eventually, Transylvania reached a point of giving up.
He says it can’t be corrected.
After making me run around like a dog for 24 hours, that’s what he says?!
“What do I do then?”
“Um… Should I give up?”
“Hey.”
“Hahaha! Just kidding. I was joking. What can be done? Let’s just hope you can learn the secrets while still being accustomed to that grotesque foundation.”
“······.”
He tries to put on a smile, but…
The darkness is evident on Transylvania’s face.
He senses too, that I won’t be able to gain the secrets.
“Only two days left. Hurry up and teach me that long-distance sword technique.”
“Long-distance sword technique? If you approach it like that, it’ll take a hundred days to grasp the secrets. Let me correct myself. The secrets of Dakia-style originate from the concept of expanding the range of attacks.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“What the hell?”
If you’re going to explain it properly, then do it!
Expanding the range of attacks?!
What does that even mean?!
It’s like I’m hearing some philosophical nonsense.
“The attitude of my student is far worse than I expected. Can I give up here?”
“Don’t say something ridiculous. You should explain it better.”
“Even if I try to explain it properly… The secrets of Dakia-style can be summarized in one sentence: ‘It expands the range of attacks.’ No matter how detailed I try to elaborate, it just becomes superfluous and distorted.”
Expanding the range of attacks…
Does that mean it’s not just limited to striking an opponent from a distance?
I still don’t get it.
“Hey, did you actually create the secrets? Why is your explanation so unkind?”
“I didn’t create it. I just inherited it and formalized it. But still, there’s no more succinct expression that captures the essence of the secrets than this—”
“Then bring the original creator! He would explain better.”
“That person is already dead. That’s why I had to take over and complete it.”
“······.”
He wasn’t even the original creator?!
I wish I could revive the creator with necromancy and learn from him directly.
At least he’d probably be more helpful.
“In my view, you’re such an ignorant fool that there’s no need for you to understand it with your head. Just move your body and learn. That might be much faster.”
“That’s… Sounds about right.”
I was about to snap back but soon retreated.
Surely.
Trying to understand the secrets of swordsmanship through words is just an ignorant mindset.
Even if that’s possible, understanding with your head and executing it physically are two different matters.
“Just follow me. Try to mimic my movements as best as you can. If you can’t gain understanding through your head, then you’ll have to repeat it endlessly until you stumble upon it. At some point, you’ll feel something different. Then dive into that feeling.”
Transylvania shifts backward while pulling back his sword to assume a stance resembling technique number 0.
Then, with a bang, his sword slices through the air.
A gust generated by the blade splits open a water barrel.
“Ah, so that’s how you create a strong, direct wind with the sword.”
“What? Wind?! No, that’s not it! Not at all!”
“Isn’t it?”
“Originally it wasn’t… Ugh. If that’s how you want to understand it, then that’s that. For all intents and purposes, it’s not wrong, so it’s hard for me to counter.”
“Then swing it with the mindset that you’re creating wind.”
After briefly reacting fiercely, Transylvania eventually sighs and steps back.
Wait, did he just give up on me?
It certainly seems that way.
“What does it mean to expand the range of attacks? Swordsmanship folks sure love their pretentious jargon…”
Swoosh. Whoosh.
Each time I swung my sword, it made similar whoosh sounds to what Transylvania had produced.
But the resulting phenomenon is nothing alike.
I thought I’d matched my posture, breathing, and movements well.
But even with slow motion playback, the referees would judge it completely different.
Meanwhile, the wind brushed off my sword tip…
It felt like it barely grazed the air before dissipating instantly.
Not even a different impression felt at all.
“Is this really it? No more teachings?”
“Right. From now on, it’s a matter of your inner self.”
Whoosh. Whoosh.
I tried changing the angle of my blade slightly.
I lifted my heel.
I narrowed my shoulders—tried everything imaginable, but the results stayed the same.
Or rather, I just seem to spiral into uncertainty.
Of course, I didn’t expect to grasp the secrets within just an hour of starting.
It’s just a demonstration I had witnessed once and the simple phrase, “expanding the range of attacks,” thrown at me—now I have to figure out the rest alone?
What even is this? It’s not like I’m studying at a university; the pace is ridiculous.
“You seem too obsessed with the precision of your stance. You don’t need to match the stance to yours at all. If you understand the secret, you’ll be able to cut places your original sword couldn’t reach, regardless of the stance or the sword you use.”
“Why say that only now!”
After swinging my sword mindlessly for about three hours.
Seeing me, perhaps feeling frustrated, Transylvania came out again with his sword, freely showcasing various long-distance strikes.
Even one-handed.
Finally, it clicked for me.
Secrets aren’t just a specific technique.
Thus, they don’t require a specific stance.
‘This isn’t some Buddhist training—what the heck am I doing?’
This means once I attain ‘enlightenment,’ I could begin to unleash strikes like magic…
What kind of nonsense is this?
“······Water.”
“Ahh.”
After taking the water Mi Jeong offered me, I resumed swinging my sword.
Simply endlessly.
Mindlessly.
Knowing that the stance isn’t what matters, I begin alternating my stance as I swing…
But no matter how much I adjust, it feels off.
The sense of enlightenment remains nowhere in sight.
‘This is really a disaster.’
By the second day, I began to realize.
I truly am not cut out for learning the secrets.
But then I noticed something strange with Transylvania who was watching my sword strikes from the corner.
I thought he had given up and was loitering…
But it seems he has been silently observing me with a proper stance the entire time.
“What are you staring at? Keep going.”
“······.”
If something seems off, he should point it out.
Why is he just quietly observing?
It feels suspicious.
.
.
.
‘What’s that?’
Whoosh. Bang.
In the vast warehouse where the blade ceaselessly cuts through the air,
Transylvania couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful blade’s tip for even a moment.
‘That’s almost…’
It felt strange.
Although he seemed frantic to mimic Transylvania’s swordplay…
Yoo Jin’s sword bore no resemblance at all.
At first, it just seemed like awkward swings.
It looked like an ordinary cutting practice.
However, each time he swung…
Very subtle changes began to emerge.
Even Transylvania, watching continuously, could only barely notice those faint changes.
For Yoo Jin himself, he most likely wouldn’t have realized it.
The minuscule fractures that appeared created a simple transformation.
What initially was simply a mimicry of Transylvania’s movements gradually became Yoo Jin’s own.
As the awkwardness faded, proficiency seeped in.
And that was a signal that was not positive, but toxic.
…In general cases.
In the art of swordsmanship, interpreting and modifying a technique arbitrarily is strictly taboo.
If you engage in such nonsense, the connections with other techniques become a jumbled mess.
However, after acquiring all the techniques…
Would someone capable of modifying all techniques to make them their own, rather than just one, even be a mere user?
At such a level, it enters the realm of creation, not mere modification.
Occasionally appearing, such geniuses create new styles of swordsmanship…
And completely establish entirely novel methods.
Is Yoo Jin one of those geniuses?
No, absolutely not.
Yoo Jin was not someone capable of altering the connections of techniques mindfully.
He hadn’t even been able to tightly fasten the first button — the foundation of proper stance.
That’s why when Yoo Jin first demonstrated the connection of techniques…
Transylvania had been taken aback.
While those movements had seemed this jumbled,
Those absurdly inefficient moves linked together.
They weren’t clean, but they were linked nonetheless.
It was utterly absurd.
The various techniques he customized to match his own body’s comfort in such a way seemed to connect!
A stunning degree of coincidence.
Or perhaps the extreme of inefficiency, achievable only through a decade of constant agony.
No matter how one viewed it, it didn’t seem like the work of a rookie who picked up his sword just days ago.
Though he might still harbor a notion of needing to correct it, his body felt otherwise.
No matter how hard he tried to fix it, he’d likely revert to his original posture–that was clear.
Thus, Transylvania had long before given up on correcting his fundamentals.
Having allowed Yoo Jin’s sword to go unsupervised, Transylvania let go of his expectations.
So, every time Yoo Jin swung his sword in a futile attempt to mimic Transylvania, it was destined to yield entirely distinct movements.
No matter how hard he tried, he became nothing more than a pale imitation.
‘Uh…?’
It looked similar to Transylvania’s, yet it was entirely different.
As he followed the tip of Yoo Jin’s sword,
Transylvania felt a strange sense of déjà vu creeping in.
‘A replica?’
It was a sword he had seen before.
Not merely a simple déjà vu.
Long-dormant memories quietly bubbling up from where they had sunk in his unconsciousness were now resurfacing.
Desperately, Transylvania searched through the depths of his memories.
He recalled the origin of that sword.
The foundation of Dakia’s sword.
The sword that Transylvania had emulated…
‘Which one is the replica?’
Transylvania’s sword was a mimic of Dakia’s sword, left behind by someone who had passed on.
He had imperfectly formalized the secrets that had never been completed.
All this time, he had forgotten.
While it might appear flawless on the surface…
Transylvania’s Dakia-style secrets were nothing but a lowly imitation.
Initially, he thought it’d be fantastic if Yoo Jin could imitate this replica perfectly, but…
That thought was now.
It was wavering.
‘That’s almost like…’
Normally, if one were to copy a copy, it would end up degraded; that’s the sane expectation.
Yet Yoo Jin’s sword, rather than diminishing, began to overlap with Dakia’s sword.
‘Dakia’s sword is appearing…’
A sword that Transylvania had pursued his whole life was emerging at the fingertips of this stranger.
Creating an imitation of an imitation.
An extraordinary phenomenon was occurring.
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