454 Chapter 454: Teaching a Disciple (1/2)
”Yeah, like this.”
Demonstrating the sword stance, I had Melina Franklin repeat my motions. After a while, I instructed her to practice, and she complied, swinging the sword over and over again, in the manner I taught her to.
”That's right! Practice makes perfect, so keep swinging that sword. Do it over and over again until your body memorizes the movement…until you can do it automatically, without thinking. Practice until it becomes a natural reflex for you.”
That was how Dad taught me, and now I was imparting the same lesson to Melina. She took it seriously and swung her sword without complaint. I was glad that she didn't resent me for starting from the basics. As always, the best way to master swordsmanship was to establish a solid foundation. Even though I couldn't call myself a master swordsman, Dad had ensured that I had a solid foundation at least. That was the only reason why I could hold my own against master swordsmen and swordswomen. Despite lacking the skills to prevail against them, I could at least not lose…for a very long time.
Mind's eye. A technique that allowed me to read my opponent's movements, anticipate their attacks and react accordingly. Honestly, as impressive as it sounded, it was simply a skill that I attained through years of hard work and countless practice. It was something I knew for sure that Melina would achieve as long as she put her heart into it. This was just something normal, a skill that anyone could learn. Certainly, it was not as good as the natural combat intuition or battle instinct that prodigies such as Charles Lacroix, Cecilia Stuart or Kureha Franklin possessed, but it allowed normal people like us to hold our own against them.
To not lose, basically.
However, it was not something that could be learned within a day. That was why I began with sword swings. The most basic of kendo, the technique that every kendo master would drill into their disciples when the latter set foot into their dojos for the very first time. The same lesson that Dad knocked into me. Getting used to the feel of the sword, the weight of the blade, and ingraining the movement into your body to the point that you and your sword became one. This sort of thing didn't require any monstrous talent or whatever. Just hard work.
Melina probably knew this too, for she accepted my instructions without questions or complaints and endeavored to acclimatize her body to swinging the sword. She was so focused that she didn't seem to be paying any attention to her surroundings, her blue eyes completely fixated upon her bamboo sword alone.
Perspiration dripped off her face as she swung her sword again and again. Taking the opportunity to practice, I swung the sword beside her – as much as to benefit my own development as it was to demonstrate to her how it was done. Furthermore, I was aware that if Melina saw me practicing alongside her, she would be more motivated. It was basic human instinct. If you were doing something by yourself, you often couldn't muster the discipline to train. However, it was a different story altogether if you had someone join you. You would be motivated to do something instead of slacking off like I usually did when I was on my own.
From the side, Dad watched in approval. He didn't say anything, but I knew he would surely give me advice and remind me of what I should do after today's training session was done. The only reason why he stayed silent right now was because he didn't want to embarrass me in front of Melina. That would undermine my authority as an instructor in front of my own student and cause her to not take me seriously in future. And furthermore, he might as well take over the training instead of have me do it if he was going to reprimand and correct me right in front of her in the first place.
Speaking of which, I actually wished he would just take over the training himself because I preferred to be training my ice magic right now instead of training someone else. I wasn't even strong enough myself, and I had a long way to go before I could compare to the likes of Feng Hai or even Charles Lacroix, never mind Dad himself. What right did I have to teach other people when I was quite incompetent and weak myself?
Honestly, I was in no position to train others. I had no right to call myself a teacher, not when I was so weak and pathetic. Just look at the readers' comments if you don't believe me. Most readers had condemned me as a weakling, spineless, inferior and pathetic, complaining when I lost and whining about how I was so weak, stupid and retarded. I really couldn't understand what Duke Fergus Franklin saw in me. If he would just listen to the voices beyond the fourth wall, he would know that I wasn't fit for the job.
Unfortunately, for some reason he chose to disregard the judgemental and critical evaluations of readers beyond the fourth wall and appraised me as someone worthy enough to teach his daughter. Much to their chagrin – after all, the readers were always right, the author never knew what he was doing and the main character was always stupid, retarded, spineless and weak if he lost even a single battle. Or better still, even if I won but I got severely injured and ”bled”, they whined about me being weak because I couldn't win effortlessly by curbstomping the enemy. What the fuck? Seriously? There were actually people who whined that I was weak, not because I lost, but because I bled and got injured while fighting against powerful enemies? Jesus Christ. I still didn't understand why they insisted on reading if they loved to condemn and insult me at every available opportunity. Like, seriously, if they wanted a strong, powerful and invincible main character who never lost a single battle because he was practically on god mode and curbstomped every single opponent foolish enough to bare its fangs at him, they could read several thousand other stories on this website, rather than force their wish fulfillment power fantasies upon me. I was a perfectly normal and very average guy, already trying to do my utmost best amidst an environment of superhumans and geniuses. What exactly were they expecting? One Punch Man? I was more Deadpool than Saitama.
Stop projecting your Battle Frenzy or xianxia cultivation clichés and wish fulfilment tropes on me. I was never going to become some invincible god who stomped my opponents without so much as lifting a finger. I wasn't going to be granted victories automatically because I was the protagonist or because I had some ”cheat.” Hell, what was with the reader demanding that I reveal my ”cheat” in the first ten chapters? I DO NOT HAVE ANY CHEAT, YOU FUCKING RETARD! I never wrote anything like that in my synopsis, so don't go around making stupid assumptions and then screaming at me when nothing of that sort existed!
”Sensei?”
”Ah, sorry.”
I realized that I had been too caught up in my self deprecating and inward rants that my swings had slowed. Noticing the change in my pace, Melina was concerned. Damn it, and I was supposed to set a good example for her. Whoops, my bad.
”Just thinking of something. I'm sure you're getting tired of the swings, so I'm thinking that we should try footwork next.”
Good thing I was quick on my feet and able to make something up on the spot. Melina didn't seem to notice my lapse in concentration and she beamed enthusiastically even as she continued to swing her shinai without pause.
”Yes, Sensei!”