Chapter 590: Grasping The Fundamentals
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 somewhat 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 assumed 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 movement was so clean, so precise, that it seemed to leave a lingering trace in the crimson air.
"Now you try. Just like that."
Northern mimicked the stance and slashed. His movement was faster, more powerful-but lacked the same clean precision.
He stopped and looked at Dante who seemed to be thinking with his hands resting on his sword.
"Again," Dante commanded. "But this time, feel how your weight shifts. Every motion in combat starts from the ground up."
Northern repeated the slash, this time paying attention to his footwork. He used not just his hand but his entire body to swing.
The movement felt different-more controlled.
"Better." Dante nodded. "Now watch this."
The Lieutenant performed the same basic slash, but this time it flowed into a complex sequence of movements.
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 fundamental 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 same form.
Perhaps their basics could share the same 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 mean 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 same 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 movements. The Lieutenant's style wasn't just about the sword-it was about turning his entire body into a weapon, using momentum 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 gleamed with understanding-for a moment 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 assumed the basic stance again, this time 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 become 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 movement 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 moment. '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 something 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 moment.
'It could have just been luck; let me 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 fundamental angles of attack, and mastering them is the key to developing any personal style."
For the next hour, Dante methodically 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 merging those principles into his Formlessness.
He was grasping and adapting the fundamental 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 immense power, Northern approached each basic movement with the same focused dedication as if he were learning to hold a sword for the first time.
"Your style will develop naturally," Dante explained as they worked through a complex sequence. "The fundamentals 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 meet Northern's.
"You can't tell me that destructive ability isn't expending something in you."
Northern's expression was somber for a brief moment, his face darkened but quickly glowed
back with resolve.
The Lieutenant was right; there was a price to pay, only that it wasn't something that could be
fixed by resting.
But of course, he still needed the rest all the same. 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."