Skillful

"True swordsmanship is never about rigid, mechanical movements. If you practice that way, even the most exquisite techniques remain inferior. Only by pouring in your spirit—by focusing entirely and concentrating deeply to perceive and feel every motion, from individual parts to the overall flow—can you become truly immersed. If you can achieve this, even a single strike becomes superior swordsmanship!"

"Spirit. There must be spirit within the sword technique; only then is it a sword. Otherwise, it is merely a piece of rotten iron, utterly useless!"

The instructor's voice echoed through the hall.

On the training ground, Zhao Cheng and the others had already begun to swing their swords.

The wooden swords moved through the air, each stance and strike executed without great speed or any discernible explosive power.

Yet, if one observed closely, a sense of profound stability could be felt.

The essence of this sword technique lay in stability; it was not designed for bursts of power, but rather to focus on cultivating one's control over the blade.

For those who cannot even hold a sword steady to pursue explosive power, it is no different from trying to run before learning to walk—it is entirely futile.

In this method of practice, the steadier the sword path, the deeper the attainment. It is said that if one transcends the extreme limit, as long as one holds a sword, one cannot be knocked down.

Of course, such a realm is not something an ordinary person can easily reach.

As Zhao Cheng swung his wooden sword, the instructor's voice rang in his ears, yet he remained completely unaffected. Every move he made was infused with his essence, energy, and spirit.

Whether one has truly infused their essence, energy, and spirit into a sword swing is something an untrained eye might miss, but while one can deceive others, one cannot deceive oneself.

Having infused his essence, energy, and spirit, Zhao Cheng now felt that every move he made caused his entire body to react in unison. His whole frame felt like a precision machine, moving as one, harmonious and unified.

Had he not spent nearly twenty minutes in breathing meditation to awaken his latent potential, he would never have been able to feel this sense of harmony through mere sword practice.

During this process, Zhao Cheng could perceive thin, wispy traces being branded into his body, remembered by his flesh, and etched into his spirit, to be held in his memory.

Though these traces were faint and few, they accumulated over time. As the days passed, they would eventually pile sand into a tower and gather water into a river, revealing an extraordinary presence.

In this state, Zhao Cheng's perception of time became blurred. It was not that the days felt like years or that time was infinitely stretched; rather, it was like playing an engaging game where time seemed to shrink away.

In his perception, only a moment had passed, yet in reality, a long time had gone by.

At this moment, the instructor, also holding a wooden sword, walked among the crowd. From time to time, he would casually swing his blade, slicing through the air to collide with the wooden swords in the students' hands.

With just this single impact, the force was transmitted. The student struck by the wooden sword would immediately jolt, their force shifting, and the previously disjointed sword path would instantly become fluid.

Such discernment and such methods require, at a minimum, the level of a Swordsman—and not a newcomer, but one who has spent time settling into this realm, having walked a distance and purified their spirit to a certain degree to be able to correct others' sword paths in this manner.

This teaching style was undoubtedly true hands-on instruction. Although the large number of students made it impossible to attend to every detail, the students could grasp the nuances themselves and search for the feeling. The most important framework, however, had been corrected, ensuring they would not practice incorrectly.

It is unknown how much time passed before Zhao Cheng suddenly felt waves of exhaustion wash over him. The clarity he had just experienced vanished, and his connection to his body became obscure, as if separated by a veil, no longer clear.

Zhao Cheng knew immediately that he had reached his limit.

Thus, without greed, he slowly withdrew his sword.

He looked around and discovered that his classmates were already resting; he was the last one left.

From this single detail, one could see the difference in the level of sword attainment.

"Student Zhao Cheng, your swordsmanship has improved rapidly over this past half-year. Your sword path is now proficient. In the entire Class Seven, you are the only one whose swordsmanship has reached this level, which shows the hard work you put in daily."

The instructor said.

In the past, he had not paid much attention to Zhao Cheng. At that time, Zhao Cheng's swordsmanship was merely middle-of-the-pack in the class, neither outstanding nor particularly poor.

Being a youth without personal guidance, it was normal for his mind to be unsettled; when the mind is unfocused, it is naturally difficult for swordsmanship to make great progress.

However, half a year ago, Zhao Cheng's swordsmanship suddenly began to advance by leaps and bounds. It took only half a year to go from barely having entered the door to his current proficiency.

The instructor did not find this strange.

Such things have been common throughout history.

A person setting their resolve is often a sudden event. After experiencing certain things, some people change entirely upon making a vow, achieving remarkable results in a short time.

Of course, there are also those who, after setting their resolve, cannot persist for more than a few days before reverting to their original state.

Zhao Cheng, undoubtedly, had persisted and achieved stage-based success.

He did not know what Zhao Cheng had experienced to bring about this change, nor was he interested in knowing; everyone has their own destiny.

It was a good thing that Zhao Cheng was able to forge ahead.

"Proficient. It really is the proficient level of sword technique. I said just now that he could persist in swinging the sword for so long because he had definitely broken through the barrier."

"There aren't many in the entire second year with this level of swordsmanship. There should be more in the third year, but still not many."

"..."

The surrounding students, hearing the instructor's words, began to buzz with quiet discussion.

The swordsmanship here is generally divided into five stages: Entry, Proficient, Mastery, Grandmaster, and Sovereign. Of course, this is the modern terminology; in ancient times, it was more convoluted, referred to as Initial Learning, Skillful Practice, Divine Transformation, Returning to Simplicity, and Unfathomable.

While Proficient is only the second stage and may seem like nothing, among a group of high school students, it is already extremely impressive.

Zhao Cheng's classmates were currently only at the Entry level, a significant distance away from Proficient.

The so-called Entry level refers to the ability to use the technique skillfully, where every move and stance is not only free of errors but also capable of infusing essence, energy, and spirit into the sword path.

If there is no essence, energy, and spirit in the sword, no matter how exquisite or refined the sword path is, it is merely the work of an outsider, fragile and easily broken; it does not even count as having entered the door.

In many high schools with poorer teaching resources, there are students who have not even reached the Entry level of swordsmanship.

That Zhao Cheng's entire class could reach the Entry level was a credit to the teaching environment of Qingyuan.

As for Proficient, to be precise, it should be "skilled and pure." After becoming skilled to a certain degree, one gradually becomes refined.

This refinement refers to the purity of the sword path, where the movement of force is without stagnation, and it is also the refinement of the spirit—much like forging iron, where one undergoes a thousand hammerings, striking again and again to beat out the impurities.