Chapter 3: Training the Sword
Despite his disappointment, Lin Feng wasn't one to give up easily. He might have been given a Sword Control talent, but that didn't mean he couldn't make it work. In fact, it only gave him more of a reason to push harder. The world wouldn't care about his talent if he couldn't use it effectively.
At home that night, he stood in front of the training yard, facing the rows of wooden dummies set up for practice. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut wood, and Lin Feng could feel the weight of his thoughts pressing on his chest. His father had been training in the yard, his movements sharp and precise as he executed each sword strike with deadly grace.
Lin Feng picked up a sword from the rack and held it in his hand. The metal was cool against his skin, the weight comforting. It wasn't much, but it was enough to start.
He focused his mind, calling upon his talent. His sword floated in the air before him, gently swaying as if waiting for him to make the first move. It was a familiar feeling now — the flow of energy, the quiet pulse that spread through his body and into the sword.
Slowly, he raised his hand, and the sword followed. At first, the movement was shaky, unstable, but Lin Feng continued to practice, pushing through the frustration. He remembered the teachings of his father — the lessons he had received when he was younger, the emphasis on perseverance and the importance of mastering one's own skills.
The sword floated higher, its movements becoming smoother. Lin Feng could feel it responding to him, a connection forming. This was his talent — to control the sword, to make it his instrument.