The Universe Is Innately Just 15 Foundational Stance, Soft And Hard

Sitting down on the arena's ground, Fell's opponent had a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't ready to face such an opponent. He felt a scary aura coming from Fell, an aura that was inched away from taking his life. Realizing that Fell didn't give his all in this fight, the warrior stood up.

"Thanks for going easy on me" respect was plastered on the spear user's face, if Fell didn't stop his motion, he would have probably been cut in half, his internal organs splashing on the sandy arena grounds.

"I had no reason to kill you" responded Fell with a calm coldness, his muscles were loose and his respiration was steady as if he was just taking a carefree walk in a park.

Turning around, he left the arena with an unhurried pace. Soldier's Fortune in his hand, his back was straight and imposing, leaving a heavy impact on most spectators.

His popularity was rushing to the peak, his name ringed loudly thought the public's seats.

Sifiso and Moha were waiting for him near the exit. Moha was still bragging about Fell, endlessly taunting Sifiso for the quality of his fighters.

"I thought you trained your fighters better than this. At this point, their skills are very lacking and they are merely food for Fell", sighed Moha while dropping his arms to his side.

Noticing that his old friend was ignoring his provocation, he turned to Fell and continued with a more serious tone.

"Although, if it wasn't for your monstrous strength, you would have had much more trouble against a spear user. Range is an important factor in fights, take that in account next time."

"Will do!" responded Fell.

Sifiso didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He dropped his shoulders and threw a hand inside one of the pockets on his martial art robe. He took out a small book out of it and approached Fell.

"Take this, I noticed that you don't really know what you are doing with that sword." Sighing, he quickly left, he was happy and proud of Fell but was disappointed that most of his fighters couldn't take more than three hits from him.

Fell received the manual and bowed in the direction of this eccentric benefactor. He expeditiously departed from the arena running in the direction of his room, excited to finally have a sword manual to nourish his hazardous swordsmanship.

Closing the room behind him, he instantly took out his new treasure. The manual's cover was made of old damaged leather, on top of it was written "Foundational Sword Moves" with pure golden colored character. Under the t.i.tle was a small ill.u.s.tration featuring a swordsman taking an aggressive stance.

Opening the book, he instantly immersed himself in his read. Sinking deeply in his own world filled with swords.

The manual was divided in two parts; one part was focused on one-handed stances while other was made for broadswords. Similarly, both parts equally had thirteen basic moves.

One-handed swords basic moves were stroking, stabbing, blocking, sweeping, whipping, slicing, poking, snapping, chopping, Obstructing, Stirring and Pressing. Each stance having a clear goal, to sneak into the opponent's defense by using a variety of methods.

Broadswords were more honest, due to their excessive weight. Their basic moves revolved more using the weapons weight and length to the user's advantage. The thirteen basic moves for broadswords were slicing, hacking, blocking, cutting, p.r.i.c.king, rolling, closing, scooping, cross-cutting, twisting, shaking, supporting, and tilting.

Even though the broadsword was a heavy weapon, hidden under its hardness was a deadly softness that gave it more flexibility during a fight, the pract.i.tioner alternates between the body leading the sword and the sword leading the body.

Fell soon noticed that his sword was quite eccentric. Being a mix between a heavy broadsword and a one-handed long sword, Soldier's Fortune could be used to unleash the majority of the moves in the manual.

Fell was excited to put into practice all the theoretical knowledge he had just read. Unsheathing his sword, he started testing each move starting from the first.

He began with the simplest move. His sword firmly grasped between his hand, his wrist st.u.r.dy but not inflexible. He executed the first move, Hacking, slashing forward with the tip of his sword by extending his wrist. He followed with Cutting, attacking an invisible wrist with a slicing motion. Losing himself in a mult.i.tude of sword moves. His blade dancing in the dimly lighted room.

Fell was intoxicated, every single move he executed sending him a burst of dopamine in his brain. Soon he gradually made a cycle of all the stances and started repeating them. Perfecting every poke, thrust, and slash. His wrist led the dance with incredible dexterity, unleashing several swords cut in a single motion.

He focused on his foundations as a swordsman, repeating each stance until it was perfectly executed. His hazardous swordsmanship was being nurtured and polished under the repeated training.

A smile on his face, Fell could be seen flashing through his room, disappearing from one place to another. His sword danced in his hand, he was letting the sword completely lead his body, making him use every motion's strength as a way to move. The broadswords basic slashes were gradually being added to his swordsmanship, making it acquire a hardness that could be felt.

Every second pa.s.sing by meant that Fell was acquiring experience. Of course, it wasn't combat experience, but this training was still extremely beneficial for him. Practicing every move and every stance over and over gives him a much-needed fluidity for his sword skills. It made his rough moves more delicate and precise.

After a few sets of his newly found sword exercises, he advanced forward with an indomitable momentum. He was feeling his sword gradually turn from an object to a part of his body, a strange unity was slowly taking form between Fell and his sword.

He ended his practice with a final slash, sending a sharp condensed air pressure right to the wall, a deep mark appearing on it. A satisfied sigh escaped from his lips, training never felt this pleasurable for him, his endorphin peaked and gave him a strange high. His swordsmanship had really gone up a notch and he was truly happy about that.

He looked around and was soon shocked to notice that the surface of his walls was crowded with sword wounds. He was so intoxicated during his training that he didn't notice the deterioration he was inflicting on the old construct.

He quickly sheathed his sword and threw it in his Spatial Pocket with a cough followed by a guilty whistle, as if all the damage done to the room was done by someone else.