I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 290 The Faceless Guide

"First, relax your shoulders," the voice instructed.

Northern tried to comply, straightening his back and shaking off the tension.

"A sword is not a club. It should move with the grace of a leaf falling through the air, not the force of a hammer."

Northern nodded, adjusting his grip on the Soul Eater. It felt awkward, the sweat on his palms making the hilt slippery.

"Hold the sword like you would a bird," the voice continued. "Firm enough that it won't escape, but gentle enough not to crush it. Feel its weight. Let it become an extension of your arm, not just an object you wield."

Northern did not understand Jack that the voice was saying, but he complied, he tightened his grip momentarily, then eased it.

The moment he did however, a striking perception of the sword's balance flowed into him. He could almost feel it pulsing with a life of its own, ready to respond to his every move.

His eyes widened as he questioned, 'How?'

"Amazing, isn't it? You don't have to be so hard on it, sometimes it's okay to ease up and give it a space of its own, a space to act, a space to be."

The voice paused and added:

"Although I am quite shocked that you could feel it on a first try? Makes me envious, are you a genius or something. Nah, I doubt that."

Northern smiled a little but it soon faded away, lest he be seen as a madman.

The voice continued:

"Now, align your body with the sword, stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. Your center of gravity should be low, stable. Think of yourself as a rooted tree, strong and unmoving, yet flexible enough to sway with the wind."

Northern shifted his stance, feeling the ground solid beneath his feet.

He imagined roots extending from his soles, anchoring him to the earth. Taking a deep breath, he immediately felt a new sense of stability and strength.

"Good. Now, raise the sword above your head, point aimed at your opponent's throat. This is your guard, your starting point. From here, every movement must flow with intention, precision."

He lifted the sword. Again, the moment, he did, the weight of the sword settle above him.

The position felt exposed, making him uneasy, but he said nothing and just decided to obey the voice guiding him.

"Imagine a line extending from the tip of your sword through your body and into the ground. This is your axis, your balance point. Any deviation from this line will throw you off balance."

Northern visualized the line, straight and unwavering. He adjusted his posture slightly, feeling the alignment snap into place.

"Now, swing. Not with your arms, but with your entire body. The power comes from your core, from the rotation of your hips and shoulders. The sword should slice through the air effortlessly, guided by your intention."

He pivoted his hips, letting the motion ripple up through his torso and into his arms.

The ghostly sword cut through the air with a satisfying whisper, the movement fluid and controlled.

"Better. But remember, it's not just about strength. It's about timing, precision, and awareness. You must be in harmony with your sword, your body, and your surroundings. Only then will you find true power."

Northern repeated the motion, each swing becoming more refined, more connected to his core.

He could feel the sword responding to his every thought, its blade an extension of his will.

"Close your eyes," the voice commanded softly. "Feel the air around you. Listen to the sound of your breath, the heartbeat of the world. When you swing, imagine cutting through not just your opponent, but through time and space itself."

Northern closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds and sensations.

The gentle rustle of cold wind and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

He swung again, and this time, it was as if the sword moved through water, the resistance giving way to a smooth, effortless glide.

"Excellent. You've begun to understand. The essence of swordsmanship is not in the blade, but in the unity of body, mind, and soul. The sword is a mirror, reflecting your inner state. Master it, and you master yourself."

Northern opened his eyes, feeling a newfound clarity.

The voice was right.

The sword felt lighter now, almost as if it were part of him. Each swing was a dance, a harmonious blend of strength and grace.

"Remember," the voice said, a hint of pride in its tone, "a true swordsman does not fight with rage or fear. They fight with purpose, with calm and focused intent. Continue to practice, and you will find your own path to mastery."

Northern bowed his head slightly, a gesture of gratitude. "Thank you," he murmured to the unseen guide.

The voice chuckled softly. "You're welcome. Although, this was supposed to be longer, I've never seen anyone get it on their first trial. Even I didn't. Anyways, keep your heart steady and your blade sharp. I'll come see you some other time."

With that, the voice faded, leaving Northern alone with his thoughts and his sword.

He took a deep breath, feeling a sense of excitement, peace and determination.

The swing of his sword just now felt so different and so fluid than it had ever felt since he had started swinging the sword.

He looked at his hands and the sword.

"What is this feeling, I want to continue swinging…" he murmured to himself.

Sadly, he was out of time, he could already sense the boy king coming from afar, that was not anything new, he had [Sense] Attribute after all.

Northern dismissed his sword and smiled with his hands behind his back as the boy king reached him with joy.

Ulzred bowed vibrantly and when he raised his head, he uttered:

"I look forward to lessons with you today too."

Northern's eyes widened a little bit, the boy's speech has gotten very good compared to the last time they met. He felt so proud.

A warm smile then graced his lips, wearing a beautiful and serene glow on his face.

"As usual Ulzred, I look forward to teaching you too. But today Ulzred, I'll be teaching you something different."

The boy king tilted his head a little bit.

Northern's smile widened, his eyes shining with a dark, dangerous glint.

"Do you want to learn another language? The language of the humans?"

"Language of the humans? Another language?"

The boy was at first dumbfounded but as he stared into Northern's eyes, his eyes slowly widened and then he rigorously nodded his head.

"Yes!!"