It happened amidst the session, Kai sat obediently, as he always did, watching the performance with reluctance. His gaze was fixed on the ugly "dancing swan" display, despite his lingering doubts. Why was he watching this strange dance over and over again? How could this possibly help him improve his swordsmanship? He hadn’t made any real progress in the art of slashing at all, and even if he did manage to memorize the dance steps, he didn’t see how that could change his crude swordsmanship.

Yet, he continued watching for the sole sake of learning. Aware that this is a rare chance to study from a veteran.

However, as he persisted in analyzing, trying to memorize the bizarrely graceful moves, Kai frowned upon realizing something. What is he doing?

Garba had told him to focus only on committing the steps to memory, nothing more. Perhaps because they were working with limited time, and maybe the old man’s method was just rushed and unorthodox. Though Kai’s memory was a bit sharper than average, these steps somehow defied normal understanding—they were bizarrely graceful yet oddly ungraspable, utterly unfamiliar and odd. Similar to trying to recall a strange dream in vivid detail. For some reason.

Then he remembered something he learned back at the university. "Don’t just memorize—understand." Bored and partially exasperated in his progress, Kai shifted his method to something new, maybe that will make these less tedious.

Kai stopped forcing himself to remember the steps and instead concentrated on grasping the essence of the movements themselves. Instead of viewing them as a series of steps to be copied, he looked deeper, trying to understand the intention behind each action. He thought hard and focused intently, channeling all his concentration. And surprisingly, his hours of meditation suddenly paid off, clearing away the usual clutter of doubts and judgments that had once distracted him. Gradually, he no longer saw the dance’s awkwardness or its tribalistic oddities—he was purely focused on understanding the movements. Even the disturbing swan's appearance was greatly ignored, freeing his focus further.

As Kaiser continued, his concentration pulled him into a deep, almost trance-like state. He studied each element with fresh clarity, eventually digging into core aspects of human movement concerning anatomy. Bit by bit, a vague understanding began to surface, something he couldn’t quite put into words but which felt like it was unfolding on its own the deeper he looked.

But with each step forward, something gnawed at his sense of what was possible. The sense of wrongness he noticed in the dance only intensified. He hadn’t realized it before, but the more he grasped the dance, the more he could feel that something was… off.

And then, finally, it hit him.

His eyes started widening in disbelief.

"What the heck… how is that even possible?"

The Dance of the Wind, which he’d written off as a bizarre spectacle, was... Humanely impossible for any normal person to perform. The steps were not simply odd—they defied human physical limits. He subtly understood instinctively that these movements weren’t just awkward—they were inhuman.

At least, that's what his intuition is guiding him to, because Kai is a human, too. And had lived with his human body for many years thus, knew its capabilities and limits like the back of his hands.

No wonder... No wonder he always felt strange seeing Garba perform it because it's screaming for oddity itself. The dancer's unfitting appearance wasn't the only flaw here, the arts nature for being tribalistic yet graceful, which is an utterly wrong mixed between style but, strangely enough fitted finely together. However, the most rattling thing is the steps itself.

It looked unassuming and bizarre at first but when someone simply concentrated on the dancer's moves, they will discover its real nature.

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By then, the old man finished yet another session. As Garba wrapped up his performance, he strolled over casually, reaching for his clothes. Kai, still shaken by his realization, finally blurted out, "Hey, gramps... What the f*ck are you really trying to teach me?"

Garba glanced at him, eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in Kai's disturbed expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. "Took you long enough. I was beginning to think my last disciple was one of those impatient rascal's unfit to learn the Dance of the Wind. But it seems you’ve finally caught on." He paused, eyeing him expectantly. "Now, tell me—just how much have you grasped?"

Kai hesitated, then replied bitterly, "All I know is that it's probably going to bend my bones and tear my muscles apart."

His not liking where this is going at all.

The old man let out a hearty laugh. "A superficial level of understanding, but good enough for a start."

He sighed, then began pacing towards somewhere in the room, his words trailing off as he walked, as if explaining more to himself than to his student. "Pay heed, Kaiser. The Dance of the Wind isn’t really a dance, it’s a sequence of exercises designed to push the body’s flexibility and endurance to its utmost limits, stretching and conditioning muscles in ways that seem almost unnatural. It’s a technique that not everyone can handle; in fact, that very difficulty was what led to my family’s downfall from grace... It's not for the faint of heart. Furthermore, not everyone is cut out to learn such a brutal technique, even if they’re physically strong, possessing high tolerance and determination. This isn't just about brute force; it demands intellect, clarity, and patience, a strength of mind as much as of the body. Mindless method won’t unlock its full potential, because it's meant for something else entirely, not just a sword style."

Kai slightly winced at the thought. 'Oh, so you need someone who can handle both physical strain and has some brains too. Am I really that dumb?' He recalled the time he tried to take a swing at his mentor due to Garba's constant blabbering, boring him. 'Okay, maybe... but it’s not like I was being reckless without reason.' Though, he hates to admit, his been brash back then, impatient, even.

The old man continued, his voice unnaturally even, untouched by his usual enthusiasm which hinted at the seriousness of the topic;

"After all, it's a crucial combat fundamental itself. From my years as a practitioner of the grueling practice, I eventually came to understand that what I was taught wasn't a mere sword style, but the very essence of battle style. Not for the sword, not for the axe, spear, or any kinds of weapon. Because it was a tailored technique meant for the very combat itself, not a weapon."

"I don't get it." Kai was a bit confused. Isn't he learning swordmanship, how come it's now becoming deeper than that.

"Hmmm. Let's just say it's a battle style, brat. One that if you mastered, will make you capable of wielding any weapons you hold with terrifying levels despite not having any familiarity to the weapon. Save the bow, and other range weapons that require precisely honed accuracy. Dance of the wind tempered one's body, not aim. However, don't ever underestimate it. Trust me, it's a difficult style for a reason because the very purpose of Dance of the Wind, as the name suggests is related to the wind, itself. It trains the practitioner's body to achieve a similar state, flowing and free from constraint, which greatly differs from what a physical human is supposed to perform. Therefore, resulting in the most adaptable, flexible and flowing style battle art that tests the limit of human anatomy, pushing oneself to achieve position in every angle possible and be as flowing as the wind, rather than a tensed, physical body. Additionally, they're able to treat their weapons as extensions of themselves, making it maneuver as well as they do. That is, if you mastered it."

"Still don't get it." Despite the elaborate explanation, Kai failed to fully comprehend what his mentor was saying. Though, his not completely clueless thanks to having seen Zara perform something similar, which wielded the body rather than any blade. What perplexed him is the difference between her technique and what Garba is teaching. If his not seriously taking his mentor's lesson, Kai would settle at a superficial level of understanding. However, his hell bent to get whatever Garba's family technique had to offer.

If it could get him at the level of Zara's frightening combat mastery, then that would be much appreciated.

The old man sighed, seemingly irritated by his student dumbness but responded a few seconds later.

"Just imagine someone fighting backwards, his back facing you yet wielding a blade far better compared to your handling, his limbs bending and twisting to maneuver with grace, inhumane and in a twisted manner."

Kai's jaw almost dropped, his eyes twitching. Description was one thing but imagination was another.

'I never signed up to be a monster. What the f*ck is he trying to turn me into?'

But wait a minute...

He smiled wryly.

"Just curious, have you reached that level yet?"

At that time, Garba had strolled over to a drawer, rummaging through it. Hearing his question, the old man eerily paused, before continuing without replying.

Kai's face darkened, feeling chills spread through him, his hair standing up. After a while, his mentor pulled something out of the drawer, dusting it off, then tossed it to Kai.

Kai caught it and looked at what seemed like a sealed book on his hands. Its brown simple leather cover was aged and faded. The title was barely legible, but he could just make it out with some squinting.

Though, the moment he processes the printed words. Kai’s fingers clenched around the book as he restrained the urge to hurl it back at the damned old man's head.

'Dance of the Wind Guide. Complete with detailed steps, breathing techniques, and other notes... A freaking guidebook? With all the steps and breathing techniques? Are you kidding me? Then what the hell was all that suffering for, I freaking burned my eyes, let my brain be defiled and memorized corruption.

What kind of mentor are you?!'

He was left staring at his teacher with disbelief, eyes twitching in infuriation. Then again, Garba came from a family formed by a god-damned troll of a Player, "WFEW" the old man definitely inherited the bastard's trait.