It was truly ugly. Usually, you only saw swordsmanship this ugly from trainees who'd failed to qualify as official Hunters... Kaluo felt as if he were looking at his past self.
Dead memories had come back to life, and now they were attacking him nonstop.
A mysterious phantom pain appeared in his forehead, as if the instructor were still knocking on his head.
Xingyan didn't care about any of that. Things hadn't gone the way he'd expected, but as long as he could learn from the Sword Master, that was all that mattered.
To be fair, before the Sword Master bluntly pointed out the problems with his current "swordsmanship," Xingyan hadn't imagined he could be this bad. And this had nothing to do with the differences between human and monster anatomy. He was just bad.
For the simplest example, before the Sword Master pointed it out with his wealth of experience, Xingyan hadn't realized that he couldn't land two quick consecutive strikes on the same spot. That had nothing to do with whether he could channel Life Energy into his weapon. He simply couldn't aim.
His control wasn't good enough.
Xingyan kept trying. Twisting his body, turning his hips, and swinging his blade, he aimed his Sword Tail at the same spot on the hillside. But even after dozens of strikes, he still couldn't manage it. This wasn't the kind of problem he could fix the moment he became aware of it.
It was an instinctive habit that came with every swing, an invisible routine.
Put simply, that kind of precise control could only come from practicing countless swings. It wasn't something he could master overnight.
There was no secret to it. Practice made perfect.
And so, while maintaining a delicate relationship with the Hunters, Xingyan began learning from the Sword Master.
The arrangement was delicate because, apart from the Sword Master, the other Hunters didn't come near Xingyan or spend much time around him. Xingyan, for his part, didn't approach the Hunters' camp and only appeared on the hillside.
From Xingyan's behavior, the Commander seemed to have guessed what he was thinking. So the only link between the two sides was the Sword Master—and only the Sword Master.
To be honest, even Xingyan himself didn't know how his quiet attempts to learn by watching had somehow turned into the Sword Master chasing him around every day to make him train. The guy even showed up on the hillside before dawn to wait for him. He was more enthusiastic than the monster who'd come to learn in secret.
And it had to be said, the Sword Master was genuinely interested in teaching a Glavenus swordsmanship. As he put it, there wasn't much room left for him to improve at swordsmanship. Other than taking on quests and hunting, his only hobby now was sharing what he knew.
So whenever a Hunter came to ask for advice, the Sword Master would freely pass on his techniques without holding anything back.
After all, swordsmanship only grew stronger through exchange.
But despite having instructed so many Hunters, the Sword Master had never taught a monster swordsmanship before. The novelty filled him with a rare mix of enthusiasm and curiosity.
Could a monster really learn my swordsmanship?
That was more or less what he was thinking.
He was just curious.
Purely curious.
It was like someone saying, "Bro, don't go out! There's a sniper at the door!" and then, the next second, "A sniper? Let me see what that's about."
Most people in this world were quite straightforward. A few Hunters worried that the familiar Glavenus who'd come to the camp might become impossible to handle if he learned swordsmanship—and wondered what they'd do if he attacked them.
But more of them figured that this Glavenus had gotten along peacefully with the Hunters for so long. They could even greet him when they ran into him in the Great Sand Sea, so he was different from other monsters. Besides, the Leader and the others trusted him, didn't they? So everything would be fine.
And then things turned into this: every day, curious Hunters came to the hillside some distance from camp to watch the Glavenus learn swordsmanship. The more enthusiastic ones even called out to Xingyan, sharing what they'd learned from their own training.
Quite a few Felynes who'd come to the New World with the Hunters followed them there, too. But compared to the Grimalkynes, these Felynes were much bolder.
After all, they'd joined the Research Commission as the Hunters' partners and official Palicoes. They were different from ordinary Felynes who worked in production, and they could play a crucial role even in battles against large monsters.
They were very brave.
When they met Xingyan, they were curious but cautious. To show their friendliness, they brought him several roasted steaks as a gift. That was exactly to Xingyan's taste, so he ate them right away.
Xingyan accepted the Felynes' gifts, but when the Hunters saw their success and copied them by offering him grilled meat, he turned them down.
Cats were different!
All in all, the Research Commission members were enthusiastic toward a rare monster who didn't attack them on sight. The problem was that Xingyan had a hard time applying the experience they shared with him.
It was hard. When Xingyan systematically studied the Long Sword techniques passed down through generations of Hunters, he found them especially difficult.
That was because Xingyan's blade was completely different from the weapons the Hunters held in their hands. As members of the Ape Dragon Species, the Hunters had arms and hand joints that were incredibly convenient, intricate, and flexible.
They could easily grasp and throw things, and control whatever they held as they pleased. Hunters could rotate their Long Swords or change their direction by moving their fingers, but Xingyan couldn't do that.
When Hunters swung their blades, they could keep their eyes fixed on their target. But Xingyan... Every time he swung, he had to turn his body sideways. If he wanted more power, he had to spin around—or even leap into the air.
And while turning, Xingyan lost track of his opponent's position and where his attack would land.
Blind swordsmanship. Completely blind swordsmanship. He had to rely on his instincts to aim.
By the usual course of a Glavenus's life, a year after hatching, Xingyan should have been kicked out by his mother. He would then spend his days challenging everything around him and fighting all kinds of monsters. And as long as he survived all those constant battles, sooner or later his battle instincts and experience would let him swing his Sword Tail with precision.
By then, even landing consecutive strikes on the same spot would be no problem. But Xingyan didn't want to wait that long, nor did he want to waste so much time before mastering a technique he could learn through practice much sooner.
With the Sword Master's wealth of experience, he naturally understood the differences between human and Glavenus anatomy. So during Xingyan's first week of training, he didn't give him too much instruction. Instead, he had him repeatedly practice the most basic swings.
The Sword Master found a spot near a cliff and drew a mark on the rock wall—small compared to a Glavenus. Then he had Xingyan attack it again and again in the way he was most accustomed to, trying to get as close to the center of the mark as possible.
This way, the repetitive training could help Xingyan learn what it felt like to land his strikes on the same spot, while also allowing the Sword Master to observe his attack habits and develop a style of swordsmanship best suited to him.
"Whew... Whew..."
Another day came to an end at sunset. Xingyan had finally finished training, and now he was so exhausted that he panted nonstop. The air above the heat-dissipation plates on his back shimmered faintly as great waves of heat poured out. If someone cracked an egg over them, it would probably cook in seconds.
To get the most out of his training, Xingyan had to engage all his muscles. He swung his blade with the intention of killing the rock wall in front of him. It was no different from a real battle.
To be honest, for a large monster, Xingyan's recent level of activity was well beyond normal. Unlike other monsters, which rested after feeding and tried to avoid unnecessary fights or exertion that would waste their energy, he barely stopped moving.
He was starting to seem a little like a Deviljho, constantly fighting and hunting to fill his stomach, unable to sit still.
Except he wasn't actually getting anything to eat like a Deviljho.
Xingyan was starving. All he wanted now was to find a couple of Carapace Dragons and eat them, then get some proper rest. He'd even abandoned his insistence on cooked food. To him, it all went down the same way, and he didn't need to worry about how efficiently it was absorbed.
The Grimalkyne chefs had been idle for six days now. If the old chieftain hadn't reassured them, the little chefs would have thought their cooking was so bad that it had scared the Dragon Slayer Boss away. They'd nearly burst into tears.
Xingyan was serious about getting stronger. He was even willing to give up the pleasures of eating.
"You're still relying on instinct when you swing," the Sword Master said gravely, standing with his arms crossed beyond the reach of Xingyan's attacks. "I understand that it was this instinct that let you defeat other monsters in the past. But if you want to learn the techniques of the Hunters, you'll have to overcome it."
"When you go from swinging wildly by instinct to swinging in a deliberate, orderly way, you'll inevitably become weaker for a while. You have to fight your instincts and consciously control every swing, making sure the blade lands where you want it to."
"Only after you can do that with every swing should you turn those deliberate movements into a new instinct. Understand?"
After rattling on for a long while, the Sword Master suddenly remembered that he wasn't talking to another Hunter, but to a Glavenus.
"...Roar!" Xingyan answered, sounding a little tired.
The Sword Master could understand a nod, at least.
"But it's strange. Why can't you build up your sharpness?" The Sword Master knocked on his helmet in confusion. "Normally, when your attacks land repeatedly, even if you miss your mark, a successful hit lets you draw on the force of the impact to build up your spirit."
"Once you've built up enough spirit, you can channel it into your weapon and make it harder and sharper. Then you can release the spirit you've stored in your weapon with a special kind of slash."
The Sword Master's helmet rang as he knocked on it. He truly had no idea why it was happening. After all, he wasn't a scholar.
"Could it be because you don't have hands? That can't be it... Your tail may be broken, but the remaining part is made of ore, which is no different from our ore-series weapons... I don't get it."
Even the few scholars at camp couldn't offer an answer. They specialized in studying monsters and knew little about Hunters' combat techniques.
Xingyan also wouldn't agree to let the scholars of the Hunter's Guild study him in detail. The Sword Master had suggested asking them to help with the research, but Xingyan had refused with a roar.
"Anyway, let's keep practicing for now," the Sword Master said with a shake of his head. "If you can't channel your spirit into your weapon, I'm afraid I can't teach you much more... But no matter what, getting these basics down will still help. You can feel that too, right?"
"Roar!" (That's right.)
After catching his breath, Xingyan answered with a roar.
At least, if he had to put that Mudfish Dragon to sleep again now, Xingyan dared swear he wouldn't miss with that strike. He'd gut the Mudfish Dragon outright.
That was enough progress for him.
"Make a note: It definitely has a double-layered shell, unlike the Glavenus of the Old World. Suspected to be a unique New World population."
By the time the Hunters had gotten somewhat used to a Glavenus appearing regularly outside the camp, Xingyan was still trying to improve his swordsmanship under the Sword Master's guidance. On another cliff, several scholars were observing him through telescopes.
"It's also possible that he's the only one of his kind. That would make him even more unusual."
"Not impossible. Let's keep observing for now... It's a shame we can't get our hands on his shell. I think the shell covered in mineral crystals is what most distinguishes him from the Glavenus of the Old World. If those Glavenus merely carry blades, then this one carries a blade while also wearing armor."
One scholar said this while scribbling away in a notebook without looking up.
"Just imagining it is terrifying. If he suddenly went berserk and started attacking us, how could the Hunters inflict any meaningful damage?"
"Don't say such scary things," another scholar said, unable to help himself. "Besides, you saw it too, right? This Glavenus can even understand the Sword Master, and he can respond to the Sword Master's questions by nodding or shaking his head. Don't you understand what that means?"
"It means he can think on a higher level! Unlike other monsters, who may seem clever but only use their intelligence for hunting and fighting!"
"Maybe one day we'll see this Glavenus establish his own kingdom, populated by all kinds of large monsters—and he'll be their king!"
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