"Servant, your resolve is decent."

No wasted words. Xinuo raised the branch and swung toward me. In that instant, her aura flipped—from aloof as a moon over water to seamless as rain melting into earth. If she weren’t right before my eyes, I’d lose her in the world itself.

"World Sword."

No ornate technique. No flourish. Just a plain, single swing.

Even so, pressure poured down like a mountain falling from the sky. Mind and body pinned under a world-sized weight. Breath snagged. Knees shook. If not for the Shattered Light Sword bracing me like a pillar, I would’ve crumpled.

Within seconds, sweat soaked me like summer rain. No time to wipe it. I couldn’t even twitch; all I could see was that branch drifting closer, slow as a rolling continent.

Ugh, this hurts. The pressure is brutal. It’s only a branch, yet in my eyes it’s a whole world bearing down.

Sight blurred like fog sliding over a lake. A fainting spell tiptoed in. In that daze, the crushing weight eased, as if the mind’s dimness thinned the storm—saved by being half-conscious. Pathetic, but I’ll take it.

It felt like a few breaths. It felt like a long season. When I finally came back, the pressure—like the world collapsing—had vanished. Only an ordinary branch hovered before my nose.

"Servant, how does it feel?"

Xinuo dropped the branch. Her aura slid back to calm, like still water.

"Feels like I almost died…"

I wiped cold sweat with a shaky hand. I didn’t dare imagine what would happen if that branch actually landed on me.

"Not bad. You withstood one ten-thousandth of the World Sword’s presence."

"Huh?" Her words jolted me. That terrifying pressure was only one ten-thousandth? You can’t be serious.

"Servant, did you think I was going all out?"

"Wasn’t you?"

"Obviously not. If I got serious—never mind a thousandth—just a ten-thousandth of the World Sword’s presence would crush you. Your body would pop under the weight. Not unusual."

She said it in the same mild tone, like breeze through bamboo, yet the content rattled me. Maybe I was overthinking. Either way, it’s done.

"Fine. My fault for being weak." I took the towel my sister handed me and dried the sweat, then asked, "Xinuo, how do I train ordinary sword skills?"

"Simple. Remember one thing—every ordinary sword skill grows from basic sword forms. The root never leaves the tree. When you practice, imprint every basic motion."

"Oh, oh."

I still didn’t quite get it. Just as I was about to ask for details, like yesterday, a flood of new knowledge surfaced in my mind—pages turning on their own. I skimmed. As expected, all about ordinary sword skills.

"Servant, chew on what’s in your head. One more thing—if you want the peak of a Sword Wielder, don’t copy everything I gave you."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

Don’t copy the content in my mind? What does that even mean?

"Put simply, don’t parrot the text while you train. Use it as reference. Blend it with your body’s truth. Create sword skills that belong to you."

This time I finally understood. But… self-made sword skills? That’s a cliff to climb.

Xinuo read me in one glance and went on, "Don’t think creation is impossible. If you want a shortcut and a cozy life, I can teach you all kinds of sword skills. Your strength will jump early on, but later you’ll stall. You’ll never touch the peak of a Sword Wielder."

"I’ll stick to forging my own, then."

If I wanted an easy life, why dream about the world beyond? I could just stay with the Mizumi Clan and grow old.

Comfort isn’t my pursuit. So, even if self-made skills look hard, they’re necessary. No other path.

"Good choice. I’ll go find some manga and kill time. If you don’t have a real problem, don’t bother me, Servant."

She turned without waiting for my reply and slipped back into the main house.

"Got it!"

I called after her back, then sank into the new knowledge in my head, laying the groundwork for my own sword skills.

"Serenemoon, let’s not bother Brother. Let’s go play with Sister Xinuo in her room."

"True. I hope the Little Emperor’s path goes smoothly."

My sister and Serenemoon said their piece and followed Xinuo inside. I was left alone. A touch of loneliness, but solitude sharpens focus; better for grinding swordcraft.

When your heart’s tied to one thing, time gallops. Ten days slid by since I started.

In those ten days, except for eating, washing, and sleeping, I poured everything into dissecting sword skills. My sister and Serenemoon complained now and then—I barely had time to play.

I had to carve out some nights for them. Rest matters, sure. Family time matters more. According to Xinuo, I’ll leave the Central Continent in at most two months.

As for results—few, but not none. I grasped the core of ordinary sword skills. From basic forms, I tried to infer a few moves. I ran to show Xinuo, proud, only to have her douse me with cold water—those moves were riddled with openings, packed with extra motions, not worthy of being called sword skills.

Thankfully, after a round of Xinuo’s “polish,” I ended up with two or three ordinary skills that were mine. Sadly, with zero combat time, I couldn’t chain them well.

That morning, after clearing the dishes and about to study new forms, Xinuo called out, "Servant, your theory’s fine. You lack live battle, so you can’t birth real skills alone. Today’s training—fight me."

"Eh?!"

Fight Xinuo?! That’s absurd. With my level, I can’t even stand under her presence for three seconds.

"Don’t panic. It’s simple—you attack. I defend. Let’s see how much you’ve grown." She pinched my cheek, calm as ever.

"That so? Good. You scared me, Xinuo!"

I let out a breath. So I’d overthought it. Still… sparring with Xinuo as my partner? That’s lavish. I had to perform.

"Too early to relax. To the yard."

"Understood!"

I followed Xinuo out. As for my sister and Serenemoon—usually nosy—they’d been drafted by Mother to help reorganize her sea of flowers. Magic could finish it in a minute, but in the Mizumi Clan, a leisurely life prefers hand-tended blooms.

Near the main house lay a yard with wide, open ground.

Xinuo kept the branch. Once she said start, I charged, throwing everything—forms and moves I’d learned.

But I found that what felt fine alone fell apart in battle. My body lagged behind thought, stiff and clumsy.

"Servant, don’t overthink. Move with the feeling you have when you practice."

Xinuo swept the branch a few times and shoved me back, clearly unhappy.

"Sorry. I rushed."

I took a long breath and pinned down the nerves. I recalled the quiet rhythm of solo practice. Bit by bit, I slipped into the groove.

Eyes open, I dashed at Xinuo again, the Shattered Light Sword weaving arcs like silver rain.

"Too many extra motions."

No matter how many cuts I threw, Xinuo found the seam and slipped through, tapping my hand with the branch again and again. My knuckles swelled red. Ow.

I grit my teeth, tallied my mistakes, and lunged once more… useless. She batted me back, light as a cat brushing aside grass.

Makes sense. Even if our ancestor rose from the grave, Xinuo would probably dismantle his moves. Ugh, why am I thinking nonsense mid-training? I shook my head and cooled down. I leaned into the storm—no matter how many times I got knocked back, I’d mark the flaws and refine.

As the rebounds piled up, I was surprised to find my motions cleaner than at the start—a clear step forward. Fired up, I kept drinking lessons from each defeat and shaved away wasted motion.

Hours slid by.

"Good progress, Servant. You can now chain your forms and skills without tripping. Still a bit green, but if you keep this pace, you won’t be long before you learn Sword Aura."

Flat on the ground and out of breath, I listened to Xinuo’s verdict. Getting her praise lit me up.

"Great! I’ll go make lunch, then."

"Mhm."

"What about this afternoon?"

"Continue training your sword forms."

"…"

If I could, I’d love a real break. Training days are tough. I need to get used to it fast.