That evening, Chen Shouyi closed his eyes and carefully felt the way the muscles throughout his body exerted force.
At times, he used his palm in place of a sword, slicing through the air with a sharp whish.
He had now completely absorbed the black-clad man's experience in using his body's strength during combat.
Though he was still far from the man's level of complete control over every muscle in his body, he had already benefited greatly from learning many sword moves he had never encountered before.
After more than ten days of practice, he had gradually mastered these moves, wielding them as naturally as he wished.
At last, the only missing link in his swordsmanship had been thoroughly filled in.
Swordsmanship that pursued nothing but precision and sincerity was certainly good, but it lacked variety.
In the past, whenever Chen Shouyi fought, he used only the Sting Sword. It was the only move he knew, and he always attacked in a straight line.
Though effective in actual combat, it inevitably made him seem somewhat stiff, unable to adapt. More often than not, he would miss plenty of opportunities.
For instance, in the heat of battle, sometimes a quick flick of his sword would have been enough to finish things. But because he was unfamiliar with the move and his body had no instinct for it, he would instead reflexively pull back and create distance, then launch another thrust.
This made him less efficient in battle while increasing the danger to himself.
How good was his swordsmanship now? Chen Shouyi didn't know. He hadn't fought in a real battle since facing the black-clad man.
Nor did he have a suitable opponent to compare himself against.
But the swordsmanship level on his Status Panel had already reached "Proficient (18)," a full