"Based on the traditional blade, what we call the basic sword style is nine forms and thirteen cuts. I will demonstrate them once today so you can all see. After that, I will pass them on to you one form at a time, depending on your progress."
"First Form: Single Book Technique. Four cuts. A frontal strike."
"Second Form: Two-Three Segment Technique. Two cuts."
"Third Form: Sweeping Technique. One cut."
"Fourth Form…"
"Fifth Form…"
"Sixth…"
"And so on…"
After finishing all nine forms, Koushirou slowly sheathed his sword.
Even using only a wooden sword, the sharp, awe inspiring aura was unmistakable.
Once the blade was put away, Koushirou returned to his harmless, gentle appearance. As expected of the heir to a famed sword style, he could release and restrain his aura at will.
On the training field, Ethan's eyes shone with excitement.
Basic Sword Style: Beginner 30%
As a foundational style, the basics were not particularly difficult, and with a swordsman of Koushirou's level demonstrating the forms slowly, the Power of Analysis drew out even more detail. In an instant, Ethan had already reached 30 percent in the Beginner stage.
He had memorized all the basic movements as well. Even if he never watched again, he could slowly raise his proficiency through self training alone.
"Now I will teach you the first form, the first three cuts. Step a long stride with the main blade, then retreat two half steps…"
Koushirou took his duties seriously when it came to students who had paid tuition. He not only demonstrated but also broke the moves down.
Basic Sword Style: Beginner 31%
It seemed repeated observation did not add much analysis at this point.
"How much did you remember?" Koushirou asked.
"All of it," Ethan replied.
"Good. Go practice on the training field. I will correct your movements later."
Koushirou was not particularly surprised. The seas did not lack for miracles and geniuses.
This was only a basic sword style. There were plenty of people who could remember it after seeing it once.
What he did not know was that Ethan had actually memorized all nine forms.
Ethan returned to the small training ground and began practicing alongside the other disciples.
The Shimotsuki Dojo might be obscure in the East Blue as a whole, but among the nearby islands it had a solid reputation.
Many families sent their children to learn swordsmanship here for various reasons. There were also young men who hoped to set sail one day, coming willingly to train for a few years before heading out to roam the seas.
Ordinary people on the seas longed for strength as well. Reality taught everyone that in a critical moment, blades and swords were far more useful than words.
So the children on the training field came in all sizes. Some were older than Ethan, others looked only seven or eight. Koushirou rarely turned anyone away.
Ethan gripped the wooden sword and began practicing the first form step by step, without any shortcuts.
He did not think that just because he had memorized all nine forms, he could skip ahead on his own.
He knew little about swordsmanship. The right path was to follow the guidance of a true sword master.
The Power of Analysis broke down his movements, showing him clearly where his body was out of sync. It was as clear as looking inside himself.
Every serious swing, every drop of sweat, was a step on the ladder to success. Ethan wanted his foundation to be as solid as steel.
His mature outlook and self control helped him just as much as his cheat ability.
After a while, Koushirou came out to the training field, leaning on his wooden sword as he walked. He moved from student to student, pointing out mistakes and correcting their forms.
When he reached Ethan, he was quietly surprised.
Ethan's form was very standard, more precise than it should have been.
Beginners practicing a new form always had their own little habits, small extra movements or timing mistakes.
But Ethan's form was extremely standard, almost identical to Koushirou's own demonstration earlier. That was enough to make the instructor pause.
Koushirou watched for a moment longer, then moved on, though the sight left a mark in his mind.
Perhaps someone who had been through those kinds of experiences desired strength more desperately than instinct itself.
After lunch, the afternoon was spent hammering the first form over and over again.
Only when dusk approached did Ethan put away his wooden sword and drag his exhausted body back home.
Robin already had dinner ready, waiting for him.
Under the warm lamplight, Ethan's hands trembled as he held the bowl, his chopsticks shaking as he picked up food. Robin chomped away with a grin, amused by his clumsy movements.
They ate and chatted at the table, two lonely souls comforting each other in the soft yellow light.
The warmth of that scene made Robin feel very safe, and she treasured it deeply. She wished this kind of life could last forever.
She was a clever girl, the youngest scholar in Ohara. Her reason told her this peaceful life would not last long.
She could never forget the flames of anger in Ethan's eyes on that day. Even though he hid them now, she knew that once that fire burst out again, the world would tremble.
After dinner, Robin volunteered to wash the dishes. More precisely, she crossed her arms and six blooms of hands sprouted. Plates and bowls were carried into the kitchen by those small hands and washed clean.
Then the two of them went to the study.
The study was filled with all kinds of miscellaneous books. These were volumes the World Economic News had purchased on his behalf, supposedly for "research."
In her spare time, Robin would read them. Unlike Ethan, who flipped through them with clear objectives, Robin simply loved reading. The joy she felt sitting quietly in the study with a book in hand was second only to the happiness of being with Ethan.
Just like in the West Blue, Ethan dictated while Robin wrote, and together they produced new chapters of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.
After his soul had become a cheat of its own, all the knowledge from his previous life, the books he had read and the films and shows he had seen had turned into solidified data.
Whenever he tried to recall them, they appeared clearly in his mind without taking up any mental "space," like a perfectly organized soul cloud drive.
As he dictated the story, Ethan also continued to refine his own plan of action.
From time to time, he would flip through a book to verify an idea, and if he could not remember where something was, he would ask Robin.
A moment later, a few little hands would pull out the correct book and pass it to him, sometimes even helping to flip the pages.
Ethan often thought that the Flower-Flower Fruit really was the greatest of all time.
They worked until ten at night before calling it a day. Ethan and Robin both needed plenty of sleep. They were still growing and could not afford to wear themselves out.
The heavy training also demanded good mental condition. Not a step of his climb in strength could be neglected.
After saying goodnight, they closed their eyes, and in what felt like a blink, morning arrived.
His body had recovered completely. There was still some soreness, but it was manageable.
He got up early, ran two laps around the village, then went home for breakfast and headed back to the dojo.
The day was still the same monotonous first form. Ethan continued to practice with complete focus, swinging the sword again and again without distraction. Koushirou took one look and left.
The next month passed exactly like this. Since Koushirou had not taught the second form, Ethan did not practice it. Even though he knew it, he refused to move ahead.
He understood Koushirou's character and trusted that the man would not waste his students' time. Even when other disciples around him began learning the later forms, Ethan continued to pour everything into the first.
The others had no idea why he was not anxious in the slightest, but Ethan knew that on his analysis panel, he could see his progress every single day.
Basic Sword Style: Beginner 40%
With a training regime where progress could be seen so clearly, there was nothing to worry about at all.
(End of Chapter)
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