Basic Swordsmanship

Molly carried her backpack as she turned into the stairwell of the residential building.

The red marks left on her arms by the tentacles still throbbed faintly, and the bloody taste in her throat had yet to fade, leaving every swallow tinged with bitterness.

The policeman's unsurprised expression while taking her statement made her heart feel even heavier—

It seemed that incidents of Monster Demon hurting people were far more frequent than the internet made them out to be.

"Click."

The key slid into the lock and made a soft sound as it turned.

The moment the door opened a crack, the sound of the television spilled out from the living room.

Molly changed her shoes, bent down to place them neatly in order, then looked up and saw the curled-up figure on the sofa.

Her younger sister, Moyan, was nestled beneath a fleece blanket with a rabbit plushie in her arms. Her gaze rested on the LCD television screen, her long lashes lowered and casting a small shadow over her eyelids.

The girl wore light-blue loungewear, her hair casually tied into a low ponytail that revealed the slender, fair curve of her neck in profile.

Though she was the original owner's sister, the one she had depended on for survival, her personality was exceptionally cold. Over the past three days, whenever Molly had tried to start a conversation, she had usually received only a single-syllable "Mm," "Oh," or simply silence.

Still, Moyan was undeniably beautiful.

Her skin was white as porcelain, and her delicate features made her look like a carefully carved doll. Even when she watched television expressionlessly, she gave off a clean and adorable air.

"I'm back."

Molly softened her footsteps and placed her backpack on the entryway shelf.

"Mm."

Moyan nodded in response.

Molly had long grown used to her coldness and said nothing more as she headed straight for the kitchen.

According to the original owner's memories, the sisters' dinners had always been simple, and tonight was no exception.

Dinner was ready soon enough: two dishes and a soup, simple but piping hot.

Molly set the bowls and chopsticks on the table and called out, "Dinner's ready."

Only then did Moyan slowly rise from the sofa, walk over to the dining table, sit down, pick up her chopsticks, and take a bite of greens, chewing carefully.

The two ate in silence, with only the television echoing through the living room.

Molly shoveled rice into her mouth, but her heart pounded like there was a rabbit trapped inside it.

She could hardly wait to return to her room, unlock the Transformation Device's secrets, grasp that Broken Sword, and grind its proficiency to the max.

At last, dinner ended. Moyan took the initiative to clear away the dishes and place them in the sink.

Molly did not fight her for the task. She merely said, "I'm going back to my room," then quickly entered the original owner's bedroom and locked the door behind her.

The bedroom was not large, but it was cozily decorated.

Pink bedsheets covered the bed, while second-year high school textbooks and exercise books were piled on the desk.

Molly drew the heavy curtains, completely blocking out the light from outside. The room instantly darkened.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and silently murmured,

"Transform."

The familiar warm current once more surged from the ring around her wrist and spread through her entire body. A flash of white light passed, and her school uniform changed into a pure white dress. Her hair lengthened to her hips, becoming smooth white hair.

The Broken Sword rested steadily in her hand. Its icy touch traveled through her fingertips, inexplicably putting her at ease.

Molly opened her eyes and looked at the Proficiency Panel floating before her.

[Proficiency Panel]

Running: Tier 1 1289/10000

Writing: Tier 1 1592/10000

Drawing: Tier 1 305/10000

Mining: Tier 1 100/10000

...

Sure enough, the hurried sword swings she had made in the alley had not been acknowledged by the panel.

Molly frowned and held the Broken Sword horizontally before her. The blade was silvery white, its chipped edge glinting with cold light.

She had never even touched a sword before, much less learned any sword techniques.

What should she do?

Her eyes lit up as she remembered the original owner's phone.

She took it out, unlocked it, opened the browser, and rapidly typed on the screen:

"Basic swordsmanship moves"

"Beginner swordsmanship tutorial"

A huge number of search results popped up, and the wide variety of move names made her dizzy.

Things like "Myriad Swords Return to One," "Nine Swords of Dugu," and "Evil-Repelling Sword Technique"—the names alone sounded incredibly badass.

Excitedly, Molly began copying the moves from the videos. She first tried the opening stance of Myriad Swords Return to One, swinging her arm wildly, only to nearly trip herself.

Then she tried the Sword-Breaking Stance from Nine Swords of Dugu. The sword technique was tricky and unconventional, but after practicing for ages, the panel remained completely blank.

"No... the panel doesn't recognize any of this."

Molly pursed her lips, feeling somewhat discouraged.

It seemed those flashy moves were all useless. Perhaps the panel only recognized solid fundamentals.

Still unwilling to give up, she found a Basic Swordsmanship tutorial video. It contained only four of the most basic movements:

Chop, slash, lift, thrust!

"This is it."

Molly composed herself, gripped the Broken Sword tightly, and began practicing along with the demonstrations in the video.

Chop—she raised her arm high, then brought the sword down with its momentum, the movement crisp and clean.

Slash—she turned her wrist, sweeping the blade sideways in a straight arc.

Lift—the sword tip pointed downward before she fiercely swept it upward, stirring a gust of wind.

Thrust—her arm extended straight out, the sword tip aimed directly ahead. Steady, precise, ruthless.

At first, her movements were awkward. She used her strength incorrectly while chopping and slashing, leaving the web between her thumb and forefinger numb. Her thrusts were terribly inaccurate, and several times she nearly stabbed the wall.

But she did not give up. Again and again, she repeated those four movements, and sweat soon soaked through her pure white dress.

She did not know how long she had practiced when a faint glimmer suddenly flashed before her eyes. At last, the panel changed.

[Basic Swordsmanship: Tier 1 1/10000]

"It worked!"

Molly's eyes brightened, and the joy in her heart nearly overflowed.

She immediately realized that simply waving the sword around would not increase proficiency. Her movements had to be precise.

She stared at the video again and carefully corrected her posture.

When chopping, she needed to use her core to drive her arm instead of relying solely on arm strength.

When slashing, her wrist needed to stay steady without wobbling.

When lifting, the angle of the sword tip needed to be exact.

When thrusting, her arm had to be straight and her shoulders relaxed.

She strived to make every movement standard. Sweat poured down even more heavily, and every muscle in her body began to ache and swell, yet Molly felt an exhilarating sense of release throughout her entire body.

She watched the proficiency on the panel rise bit by bit: 1, 2, 3... 10, 20, 50...

With every increase, she felt a little more confident.

What delighted her even more was that, as her proficiency increased, she could clearly feel her physical condition quietly changing.

Her formerly weak arms gradually gained strength, and her sword swings became faster and faster.

Her endurance had improved greatly as well. She used to pant for ages after running eight hundred meters, yet after practicing for so long now, she was only slightly out of breath.

Even her eyesight seemed to have improved somewhat. She could clearly see the tiny patterns on the floor.

Though these changes were subtle, they were real. Like a shot in the arm, they drove her to practice even harder.

Time slowly passed. The night outside deepened, and the only sounds left in the room were the whistle of Molly's sword and her slightly heavy breathing.

Later on, an embarrassing problem arose.

This beautiful girl's body was simply too well developed. Her chest felt heavy, and every broad sword swing made it bounce and rub against her clothes, causing waves of fine, stinging pain.

Molly gritted her teeth and endured the discomfort, but the pain grew too intense, slowing her movements despite herself.

It's chafing...

"Damn, having big boobs is way too inconvenient."

She could not help muttering under her breath as a memory from the original owner suddenly surfaced—

There seemed to be nipple covers in the desk drawer.

She pulled open the drawer and, sure enough, found an unopened pack of nipple covers in the corner.

She quickly put them on, and instantly felt much more comfortable. The pain from the friction lessened by more than half.

"Much better. Time to keep practicing!"

With nothing holding her back, Molly threw herself into her training even more.

She did not know how much time had passed when her stomach suddenly growled in protest. Hunger flooded over her like a tide, stronger than ever before.

She released her transformation and quietly opened her bedroom door. The television in the living room was already off, so Moyan was probably asleep.

She made her way through the darkness into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There were no prepared meals inside, only some dried fruit, jerky, and several cartons of whole milk.

Without hesitation, she tore open a packet of jerky and stuffed it into her mouth. Its salty, savory flavor spread across her tongue, easing her hunger slightly.

She grabbed a carton of milk and tipped it back in one go. The icy liquid slid down her throat, feeling so good that she nearly sighed aloud.

After filling her stomach, Molly slipped back into her room and continued practicing swordsmanship.