Chapter 9: Preparation

Yusoha’s mansion was equipped with a training room.

A personal training facility designed exclusively for her.

From simple physical conditioning to sparring with training androids programmed with martial arts and combat techniques from various countries, the room was equipped for all kinds of training.

This was Yusoha’s training room, built solely for her use.

And now, Eclipse had stepped into it.

The reason was simple: Yusoha had asked him for guidance.

“What a fascinating place,” Eclipse remarked.

“Fascinating?” Yusoha asked.

“Yes. The world I came from didn’t have such advanced technology. Science is remarkable.”

“It’s probably amplified by magic. The power source for those androids comes from mana stones harvested from regular gates.”

“I see.”

“So, shall we get started?”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Just watch my form. I want someone of your skill level to evaluate my stance and technique.”

“Understood.”

“Oh, by the way, I forgot to ask—what weapon do you primarily use? That broken greatsword on your back?”

“Yes, this greatsword,” Eclipse said, tapping the weapon strapped to his back.

Though it was a worn, broken greatsword, Yusoha refrained from offering him a better one.

That broken blade surely carried the weight of the hardships Eclipse had endured coming to this world.

“Last time, you smashed everything with your fists, so I thought you used gauntlets,” she teased.

“That was because I didn’t need a sword. But I’m not only skilled with a greatsword—I can handle any type of blade.”

“I see. Then let’s start with a sword…”

Yusoha conjured a standard one-handed sword with her mana.

“A sword formed from mana? Impressive. It’s worthy of being called a masterwork,” Eclipse praised.

Given Yusoha’s high skill level, the sword she crafted with her mana was indeed of exceptional quality.

“That’s just the basics,” she said, though the corner of her mouth curled upward slightly.

Watching her, Eclipse noted how much Yusoha thrived on praise.

“Any swordsmanship style is fine, right?” she asked.

“I’m not familiar with this world’s swordsmanship. It might even be superior, so don’t mind me—just show me what you’ve got.”

“Got it.”

Yusoha swung her sword with confidence. Though she said otherwise, she was quite proud of her swordsmanship.

After all, hadn’t she bested Han Chaeyeon, Red Moon’s poster child for swordsmanship, in a duel?

Even her father, Yu Hajun, had acknowledged her skill with a blade.

With such confidence, her sword moved with vigorous momentum, cutting through the air.

A dazzling display of swordsmanship unfolded before Eclipse.

To the average onlooker, it would seem impressive. But to Eclipse, it was lacking.

No, to be brutally honest, it was severely lacking.

In his world, her swordsmanship wouldn’t even measure up to that of a common soldier.

As a knight once revered as a savior in his world, Eclipse found it effortless to identify the flaws in Yusoha’s technique, like flipping his hand.

Even though much of his power had been diminished upon arriving in this world, his knowledge remained intact.

“That’s enough,” he said.

“Phew, how was it?” Yusoha asked, beaming with a bright smile.

Eclipse’s expression was ambiguous.

She was so full of confidence—did he really need to douse her with cold water?

But without criticism, there could be no growth. Eclipse decided to be honest.

“…I hate to say this, but it’s subpar.”

“…What?”

Her radiant smile vanished in an instant.

“N-no, why?”

Yusoha had expected, at worst, a comment like “it’s a bit lacking” or “you need more effort.”

But subpar?

Eclipse’s choice of words, far beyond her expectations, left her momentarily stunned.

Swordsmanship was her pride, a field where she had never once received harsh criticism.

No, it wasn’t just a lack of criticism—she had been showered with praise.

Even the public, known for its strict judgment of Awakeners’ abilities, acknowledged her swordsmanship.

First-generation Awakeners, renowned for their sword skills, had praised her as well.

Yet Eclipse had deemed her skills subpar, rendering all that praise meaningless.

“Soha?” he called out.

“Oh, yeah. Go on. What’s subpar about it?”

She couldn’t show her displeasure. After all, she was the one who asked him to evaluate her. Getting angry now would look foolish.

Knowing this, Eclipse felt a twinge of guilt for speaking so bluntly.

Seeing this prideful woman falter at the word “subpar,” it was clear she had immense pride in her swordsmanship—perhaps more than he’d realized.

But her fierce glare told him to continue.

“I’m fine, so just say it,” she insisted.

It was obvious her pride had been wounded by the word “subpar.”

“Alright. First, the momentum behind your strikes is lacking. You’re too focused on flair. It’s the classic case of neglecting fundamentals while chasing speed and finesse.”

Her face flushed red, a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“Then, if I went to your world, where would I stand? You said you were a knight, right?”

“I was. In my world, Soha, you wouldn’t even measure up to a common soldier.”

“A common soldier? What kind of nonsense is that!?”

Even Yusoha, who had been trying to accept his critique, couldn’t swallow this.

A common soldier? Was he saying she was no better than some random person handed a sword?

Soldiers typically wielded spears, and she was supposedly worse than them?

Despite her resolve to stay composed, anger surged within her.

“I’m only stating facts. Your swordsmanship is worse than what a typical soldier in my world might show when occasionally wielding a sword.”

“Fine. Then show me. Show me the swordsmanship of a common soldier from your world. Use that greatsword you carry.”

“No problem, but I can’t use this greatsword.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too dangerous. Since coming to this world, my power seems halved, and controlling the greatsword’s flow is difficult. One mistake, and this entire area could be obliterated.”

If anyone else had said it, she’d have scoffed, but it was Eclipse, so she nodded.

She might question his assessment of her swordsmanship, but she knew his power was beyond imagination.

The day she summoned him, hadn’t the specially designed summoning room shaken just from him stamping his foot?

If a mere stomp had that kind of force, the power of the greatsword on his back was easy to imagine.

“…Alright. Then let’s do this.”

Yusoha crafted a weapon for Eclipse.

“How’s this?”

“It’s sufficient.”

Her ability to forge weapons with mana was extraordinary, and the sword she made was of high enough quality for Eclipse to use.

He took the sword and assumed a stance.

Just days ago, he’d wielded a blade in dire circumstances, so holding one in such a peaceful setting felt novel.

He swung the sword once—a simple vertical slash.

Then a horizontal slash followed.

The basics of swordsmanship: vertical cuts, horizontal cuts, thrusts.

These were what Eclipse valued most.

All variations stemmed from these simple movements.

Without solid fundamentals, no swordsmanship could reach its full potential.

Yusoha’s swordsmanship was exactly that.

It deceived the eye with speed and hid thorns in its flair.

That was fine.

But without the fundamentals to back up that flair, it would hit a ceiling sooner or later.

No swordsman fears a blade without power.

No matter how much mana compensates, it can’t make up for lacking fundamentals.

Eclipse didn’t know who Yusoha’s teacher was, but he assumed they were a renowned swordsman.

Otherwise, such techniques would be impossible.

Yusoha’s movements were highly complex and difficult.

Most people couldn’t even mimic them.

Whoever taught her such techniques must have been an exceptional swordsman.

But her skills lacked depth.

Her personality likely held her back.

With mana cloaking her blade, cutting down magical beasts was easy enough without fundamentals.

For someone like her, who loved showing off with flair, static swordsmanship might have seemed boring.

Her teacher, likely aware of her temperament, probably gave up on instilling fundamentals.

Of course, Eclipse could wield more complex swordsmanship.

He could teach her the principles of force, allowing even those with average strength to overcome stronger opponents through technique.

But all of that required a foundation.

How to grip a sword, how to breathe, how to step.

Technique came after.

Eclipse’s swordsmanship embodied the pinnacle of fundamentals. His simple vertical slash carried a stability Yusoha’s couldn’t match.

Watching him, Yusoha was speechless.

It was the most perfect slash she’d ever seen.

If their blades met, hers would likely be cleaved in an instant. She couldn’t articulate why, but she felt it.

“This is the swordsmanship common soldiers in my world learned. In other words, the basics,” Eclipse said.

Now she understood why he called her skills subpar.

If that was the baseline, she wouldn’t even qualify to show her face.

The anger and embarrassment that had flushed her face faded.

She realized Eclipse had evaluated her objectively.

“Soha, you’ve learned difficult swordsmanship, no doubt. But you’ve neglected the basics too much. Only by rebuilding from the ground up can you perfect the techniques you’ve learned.”

It was sound reasoning. Yusoha couldn’t argue.

“…Okay.”

“I’ll review your swordsmanship daily from now on. Fundamentals need consistent building.”

“…Got it.”

For a moment, Yusoha looked deflated but shook her head.

She couldn’t let herself look defeated over this.

Instead, resolve gleamed in her eyes as she spoke to Eclipse.

“Eclipse.”

“Yes?”

“Can we start fundamental training today?”

“Anytime.”

Her determination pleased him, and he smiled.

Her resolve to rise to the challenge was exactly what he liked.