The instructor in the training center hadn’t seen anyone with real talent recently. He didn’t mind that they left after generating the skill they were aiming for. That was only natural. After all, no matter how many times your sword or arrow hits the dummy, it’s no preparation for what you face in a real battle.

It wasn’t that.

It was their style.

They treated the sword like it was a club, just pounding the dummy.

Simply put, there was no artistry in their sword. No elegance.

A newcomer entered the center.

The instructor walked up to him.

“Let me guess,” he said, “you want to learn how to fight.”

“Um, yes. Specifically with a sword.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Shut up.” the newcomer whispered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Oh, uh, n-nothing sir.”

“Do you know how to fight? What level are you?”

“L-level eleven. Not with a sword.”

“Oh, but you think you pack a mean right hook, is that it?”

“N-n-no sir! I throw things.”

The instructor went beet red.

“Get out. I am tired of you people with no artistry in your fighting style.”

“B-b-b-but s-sir, I-”

“No buts. Leave.”

“Y-you haven’t even seen my style.”

“You throw things.” He imitated. “You don’t have style!”

“What? No! Are you insane?”

“Insane am I? Well see that dummy over there? Hit it from here, with style and I’ll consider teaching you.”

“I did get one of them bladed recently…”

The newcomer smiled and pulled out a wooden stick, bent in the middle with a blade on one end.

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He drew back his arm, preparing to throw it. However he did not face the dummy, turning to the right.

’What is that punk playing at?’

Then he threw it, and it flew straight.

And then it rose, and swerved to the left.

And then it turned around.

The instructor watched in astonishment as it curved around, and went towards the dummies. It passed right through the necks of the other dummies without hitting them.

The instructors keen eyes realised that their necks were going through the space made by the stick’s bend.

As it approached the dummy the instructor had named, it curved out of the line of dummies, it’s curve meaning that it was no longer letting the neck just pass through the open space.

The bladed end slit across the dummies throat without slowing down.

The instructor laughed.

“Well kid, I admit that was good, I’ll teach you.”

“It’s not done yet.”

“What?”

The boomerang then continued its curve right towards them, and the new guy caught it on the end without the blade.

The instructor started laughing again.

“I’ll teach you. I will definitely teach you.”

The instructor was laughing so hard he didn’t hear the newcomer talking.

“No he isn’t. Now stop talking to me in public”

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