At the end of the training session, Chidi found himself with at least a hundred cuts, sweat and blood dripping down his body. And he hadn’t been introduced to a single form or told how to do anything at all. And yet… he felt better, somehow. It was hard to describe.

It was the difference from how his parents taught him, where they held back to give him an appropriate level of challenge. The grandmaster did not hold back- only limited herself to a certain level of power. And… in how she struck him. “Is this okay?” Chidi said, pointing to a hole in his chest. “This doesn’t feel okay. I’m pretty sure I could see through it, if I could see.”

“Nothing vital was damaged,” Chikere said. “You will learn to deal with such trivial things.”

At first he thought she meant he would get used to it, but she did actually mean dealing with it as they directly moved on to post-combat recovery. That involved a lot of stitches, including internal ones. Chidi found that using a needle kind of felt like stabbing a little rapier through things.

Once his body was no longer oozing so much, he focused on using his energy to promote healing. Chikere did not need to teach him anything there, which was good because she didn’t. His previous training had been sufficient for that. And though he hadn’t yet had many life-threatening injuries, the same process applied. Just with more urgency.

Though Chidi was unsure if he was stronger, he at least now felt like he could manage the training. In fact, he felt strange to have even wanted to reject the opportunity. “... Why were you going to stop training me? Because I wasn’t learning fast enough?” Chidi wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he asked it regardless.

“Because you wouldn’t have learned.”

“...Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Not understanding.”

A few moments of silence. “If I were a good teacher, I could have taught you anyway,” Chikere said. “Your parents raised you to how you are now, did they not? But they are not, for all their positive traits, sword cultivators. I am uncertain about your father, but he focuses on the shield. Though perhaps for the sake of protecting others, rather than a devotion to the concept. Your mother, however, is much like myself… but with formations. To her, they are not a tool. They are everything.”

“I wish I was better with formations,” Chidi sighed.

“Then get better.”

“I… can’t,” Chidi said. “Not really. I’m just as good as I always am, but with more learning. Does that make sense?” He shook his head. “Obviously not. But I don’t know how to say it.”

“You find yourself lacking in aptitude?” Chidi nodded. “I understand. I have a question for you. How do you sense swords?”

“I already talked about this. I feel the metal, the sharpness, and hear them move through the air.”

“That is how you used to sense swords,” she agreed. “But how do you do it now?”

Chidi frowned. “I just… have a connection?”

“Then if you want to be better at formations, form that connection. Unlock your aptitude.” Chidi could hear how the grandmaster’s body moved, the complicated play of muscles and bones for a simple shoulder shrug. “Though I can’t say if that works. I have the feeling you were always capable of this connection to swords, and simply found it.”

Chidi bit his lip, “But if it’s able to be created, then others could learn from you.”

“I suppose so,” Chikere admitted. “If they have the proper resolve, I would not mind teaching others.”

That… was something Chidi had to think about. Could people learn this, like him? It was an amazing feeling, even though he was just starting to grasp what it really meant. On the other hand, if they could… was there anything that made him special? Should there be?

And why was he hesitant about this, and not about his training with scouting? He was certainly eager to share there. Knowing about his great-and-some grandfather who apparently loved teaching people, Chidi thought he should have gotten some of that.

Ultimately, he couldn’t think of any good reason to keep things to himself, when the whole squad needed as much strength as they could get. Sure, Chikere might be able to lead them through enemy territory cutting down everything in their way. But she had also intentionally provoked the sword saint and being in a predictable location with her was basically the same as signing a death sentence if he showed up.

-----

“I already sleep next to my weapon,” Denitsa said. “I have no desire to roll onto it in the night and get spikes in my face.”

“No,” Aconite barked bluntly. “If there is some sort of calling, I have found it. I have no desire to attempt to learn the sword, especially not from a humanoid.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“She’d actually be willing to teach us…?” Captain Tiras scratched his cheek. “I’d like to try it, at least.”

That was more or less the gamut of answers he got from everyone. Some were tied to their weapons, or afraid of the seemingly pointless risk of keeping an unsheathed blade in their hands at all times- including while sleeping. Others were willing to give it a try, mostly because of Grandmaster Chikere’s fame. Though a few also rejected the idea for the same reason, citing dead wannabe disciples.

Among others, Ida was one of those willing to give up her previous weapon and attempt to attune with the sword. As they were already avoiding combat or risky missions- Rakiya almost cutting down their scouts being a big deterrent- people had some time to spare.

A few quit after one night. Or rather, before the night was over. Perhaps due to their sleeping habits, having an open blade next to them was not appealing. No serious injuries came about, and some still attempted to keep a blade with them at all times- if in a sheath- but Chidi had already written them off as a failure. Perhaps that was his own bias, or perhaps it was some true insight into the state of things. He couldn’t really say until the end of the first week.

At that point, Captain Tiras, Ida, and one other fellow named Martin were different. They didn’t seem to have quite awoken whatever it was that was necessary, but Chidi felt a discernible difference. The swords they carried were theirs, not just things they happened to be holding. It seemed it would take them a bit longer, but they would almost certainly achieve the necessary state.

Chidi wasn’t sure what to feel about that. Sure, he might have been technically faster than them… but a week or ten days wasn’t really that different. He clearly wasn’t special. On the other hand, there were six or seven more people still trying to form this bond with their weapon that just… weren’t going to succeed. Chidi was completely certain of that, but they hadn’t given up. It might still be good for their training, but they’d never achieve… it. Whatever it was. Some step, maybe part of a person since birth.

On the other hand, everyone had told Chidi he was going to be good with swords because he was named after Chikere. As if that mattered. And he’d thought he was good until he met her, and then he thought he was awful, and now he thought that maybe one day he could be a swordmaster. But he’d have to find out.

-----

Chidi tried to focus on the parts of his opponents that mattered. The wrinkles and slightly loose skin weren’t important. The muscles underneath were, though somehow he felt that was less and less true as he began to focus only on the sword in Ida’s hands. In a way, she was the least impressive member of their squad. She was old, her cultivation barely better than Chidi and behind the captain and Denitsa. She had nothing particularly special to recommend her.

It almost made Chidi want to go easy on her, but that was exactly the thing he couldn’t do. So instead he knocked the blade out of her hand, then poked the tip of his blade into her throat. Just enough to nick the skin. The grandmaster was fine with more, but he simply didn’t have the level of control to be comfortable with that. They didn’t want anyone to die not to the enemy, but to themselves.

Ida walked over to her sword, picking it out of the dirt. Chidi wondered what she felt. Anger, frustration, disappointment? He wasn’t sure. He might feel all of those, if he lost to a five year old. A fair enough comparison, for someone a quarter of his age as he was to her. Vaguely.

But… the very fact that Ida had nothing special to make her stand out among cultivator was exactly what Chidi found was the best part of her. Because she was trying to be something regardless of what she currently was. She’d come to him to ask for training in scouting techniques, even if he was just a sightless Spirit Building cultivator at the time. And she did the crazy thing of trying to learn from Grandmaster Chikere.

“Alright, alright,” Chikere’s voice called them to attention. “We’re done with one-on-one. Time for group combat.”

“Two-on-two?” asked Martin, the last of those to actually manage his ‘attunement’. He was also not particularly young, which was unfortunate for him because if he had been able to go down the same path decades earlier, his life would have likely been completely different.

“Oh, that’s a good idea at some point actually,” Chikere admitted. “But not right now. No, we’re moving to four-on-one.”

Four-on-one was… not fair. Obviously Chikere meant Chidi, Tiras, Ida, and Martin against her. And that was totally unfair. They would need at least a hundred for it to feel a little bit even.

And of course, they were right. With four of them they got in each other’s way almost as much as they helped, even when they eventually spread out to come at her from all sides.

But what was even more unfair was when it was Chidi’s turn next. Suddenly, he had to face Tiras, Ida, Martin, and Chikere herself all at once. It didn’t seem like it should be that much worse switching from a hundred to a hundred and three swords he had to deal with, and perhaps it wasn’t, but he couldn’t really do anything.

Not consciously, at least. His sword flashed, deflecting blows as his body moved to avoid as many attacks as he could. He was aware of lethal blow after lethal blow, but the battle never stopped. Even when he was actually impaled. Chidi was just glad that the grandmaster’s sword redirected Martin’s sword to go slightly above his heart. There would still be a lot of damage to muscle and the like, but that was how things were.

They cycled through everyone, and Chidi was amazed that none of them died. He was also amazed that none of them quit, because while Chidi knew that Ida had some determination to make something of herself he had no basis for how to judge Martin, who had been just another individual who seemed to have signed up for the war because he felt obligated or desperate.

“Alright, well, I’m off.” Chikere declared at the end of one of their sessions. “See you guys in a week or two.”

“But uh… we’re planning to relocate,” Chidi reminded her. “Try to find our way closer to friendly territory. Or at least somewhere not looking for us specifically.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

“How?” Chidi asked. Then he realized that was a stupid question. “I mean… how far away can you sense swords?”

His question was not answered… directly. “Back on Ceretos, I was quite friendly with the Million Sword Vault. Of course, they never had that many blades before I ascended. But if I was motivated to collect a bunch of garbage on Yaitis, I think I could probably call myself the same thing.”

Chidi wasn’t sure how many people were fighting on Yaitis itself, or how many used swords… but he was quite confident that there weren’t that many within anything he would call a reasonable distance for mixed Spirit Building and Essence Collection cultivators to travel within a week. It was at least the continent, though they would be lucky to get out of the province safely anyway.

He had a long way to go. But this time, he didn’t mind seeing that distance quite so much.