The first days of training were not about attacking, but about feeling. Morgan told Marie to get her body accustomed to her new strength. Marie spent hours just doing basic movements like running, jumping, and punching.
Her chest heaved, her muscles screamed in pain, and sweat poured like a waterfall. Marie was ordered to do this again and again for three full days.
"Run another lap, Marie. How will you master the sword if you cannot master yourself?" Morgan shouted when she paused just to catch her breath.
When she thought about it, Morgan had powers related to bodily organs, considering he could turn the corpses of lowly hellhounds into spears and control their blood. So, Marie would try to trust everything to the expert.
Finally, Marie could sit and calm her racing heart. She greedily drank all the water in the glass Morgan had given her.
Morgan stared at her and fell into thought, this time he was silent longer than usual.
Marie felt a little nervous under his gaze, remembering what she had seen when she first connected with him. As a demon who held power over flesh and blood, Morgan was evaluating her body's suitability for combat. Her current level and future potential must be clear to him now. Was she ready enough to fight?
Morgan nodded. "Okay."
A single word that made Marie beam with joy just because of it. "Does that mean I'm ready to hold a sword?"
"Everyone knows how to hold a sword, but not how to wield it. I will teach you how to use a sword."
A sharp, curved nail extended from the tip of Morgan's index finger. Morgan sliced from his wrist to his elbow. Blood poured out profusely, yet Morgan didn't even flinch. He inserted his hand into the incision he had made, as if reaching into a pocket.
From the gash in his flesh, Morgan pulled out two gleaming silver swords. Blood splattered onto the floor, spreading a pungent smell of iron and rotting flesh.
Marie covered her mouth, almost vomiting the water she had just drunk. Marie had seen bloody scenes many times before. But she would never get used to seeing them. Even when she saw them, she tried hard not to think too much about it. Marie shook her head, trying to forget it.
Marie took the sword Morgan offered and examined it. The sword had a long, slender blade with two sharp edges. Its tip was pointed, as if designed for thrusting. The hilt was crafted with a beautiful yet strong handguard. *If I'm not mistaken, it's called a rapier?*
"Before learning to use a sword, you must know the basics. Watch."
Morgan planted his feet on the floor, one foot in front, the other behind, knees slightly bent. "Stand balanced. If your stance is wrong, you'll be easily knocked down."
Marie tried to imitate. Her steps were clumsy and too close together. Morgan tapped her knee lightly. "Like that. Remember, your body must always be ready to advance or retreat at any time."
After that, Morgan took his sword. "Next, grip your sword like this. Not too tight, or you'll tire quickly. Not too loose, or it will easily slip. Imagine you're choking someone for interrogation—strong enough to make them talk, gentle enough so they don't die."
"What?!"
"Umm, I mean, hold it with just the necessary strength."
Marie ignored him and tried to adjust her grip. Morgan nodded in satisfaction.
"Now, raise your sword above your head, then bring it down straight in front. Use one hand to push, while the hand closer to the blade pulls. That way, the resulting strike will be much stronger."
Marie stared at her sword and tried to swing it as Morgan did. She raised her sword above her head, then swung it downward.
Morgan watched her.
"Don't just use your arm to attack, use your whole body. Channel power from your legs to your hips, your core, your shoulders, and then to your hand. Like this."
Morgan demonstrated a downward slash again. This time, Marie paid close attention to his stance and every movement of his body.
Marie tried to practice it a few more times. After each mistake, Morgan gave her instructions and corrected her. Marie repeatedly performed the downward slashing motion until Morgan nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. Now do it a hundred times."
Marie's eyes widened. "A hundred times...?"
"Yes, repeat it until your body remembers the movement on its own. A sword master is not born from talent, but from endless repetition. Remember, the first movement must be the same as the last."
"Okay." Marie gritted her teeth and raised her sword.
"Call me Master Morgan from now on!" he said firmly.
Who was the master of whom.
Her slender sword whistled as it cut through the air; she raised it again. One time, two times, three times... Marie swung her sword repeatedly. On the twentieth swing, the muscles in her arm began to tremble. Meanwhile, Morgan just sat on a white chair that had appeared from nowhere. His face was covered by a book that also appeared from nowhere. The book was titled: "How to Become a Sword Expert. 100% Guaranteed Success!!!" with a knight with a shocked expression on the cover.
Although his face was covered by the book, an eyeball emerged from the back of his hand. It blinked and stared sharply in her direction. It felt unpleasant to be watched in such a unique way. Yet, Marie kept swinging her sword.
On the fiftieth swing, her shoulders felt like they were on fire. On the eightieth swing, her arm felt like it was about to break, and she almost dropped the sword.
Morgan lowered his book and looked at her with all three of his eyes. "Don't stop. Is your resolve going to break that easily?"
With her remaining determination, Marie completed the hundredth swing and collapsed. Her breath came in ragged gasps, sweat drenched her face and dripped onto the floor. Her arms and legs were numb. But those hundred movements were etched into her soul.
Morgan approached and looked down at her. "Good. Tomorrow, do it a thousand times."