The academy's lecture system was fundamentally lenient.
Not only did it allow students to cram in as many credits as they could handle, but it also recognized extracurricular activities as credits, provided that students submitted a plan outlining their activities and the expected outcomes, along with supporting evidence.
This was also a reason why club activities were so vibrant. While there might be a few who would try to deceive the academy with fabricated activities, such cases were rare. The faculty actually preferred this system as it saved them labor and costs.
Yuri's teaching was no different. Who would dare oppose the department head's plan to provide personal instruction to a student in their private space?
All Yeon-woo had to do was endure Yuri's rigorous training and receive credits in return...
Though, to be honest, the credit gain wasn't that significant.
“The Three Powers refer to Heaven, Earth, and Man.”
Anyway, Yeon-woo couldn't understand why he was learning the Three Powers Swordsmanship from a swordsman originating from Alkeion. It felt like something was amiss.
“It's fortunate that you've been training to use both arms. But with everything except your downward strike being so sloppy, you can't even call yourself a swordsman. So, for the time being, this will do.”
“I guess so.”
“Still, I'll show you a demonstration. Watch closely.”
Of course, the main reason for Yeon-woo's one-dimensional swordsmanship was his utter lack of talent. He simply couldn't grasp the stances for swinging the sword in any direction other than downward. He didn't know how to apply force, resulting in weak strikes, and his poor stances left him vulnerable.
Even now, he was merely mimicking what he could from his past life's experience with spears. He felt his swordsmanship was closer to spearmanship, except for the downward strike.
In that sense, the Three Powers Swordsmanship was the perfect prescription for Yeon-woo. Thrust, horizontal slash, downward strike. He could learn two new techniques from one simple swordsmanship!
Naturally, Yeon-woo's eyes gleamed as he watched Yuri. Yuri slowly and precisely demonstrated the thrust, horizontal slash, and downward strike.
Upon seeing this, Yeon-woo let out a sigh, "Ah!"
“...Um, excuse me.”
“What is it?”
“Were thrusting and horizontal slashing that difficult?”
The demonstration, meant for a talentless disciple, was far too impressive. The three movements were imbued with profound principles. Something seemed off from the moment the sword was drawn, and by the middle, the sword seemed to stretch, becoming invisible...
At least he managed to understand the stances by watching and imitating.
Yuri looked at Yeon-woo with a dumbfounded expression.
“This is the level you need to be at to even claim you've swung a sword. I'll teach you the details separately, so just stay still.”
Ah, so the idea was to show him first and then make adjustments. Yeon-woo admired this rather teacher-like approach.
He wondered who had spread those harsh rumors about Yuri in his past life. With a sense of satisfaction, Yeon-woo took his stance and swung his sword. Yuri, watching from behind, smacked Yeon-woo's calf with a twig.
“Ow!”
“Relax your strength.”
He swung again. Smack!!
“Ouch!!”
“Put strength here.”
Smack, ouch, thud, ouch, crash...
Needless to say, Yeon-woo's screams filled the personal training room, which resembled an open field, for a long time afterward.
He was starting to understand why those rumors existed...
* * *
Shar, having applied a generous amount of transparent, sticky liquid to the surface of her eggshell, was rolling around Yeon-woo's body, rubbing the reddened areas.
[Ugh, why did you get hit so much?]
“Do you think I wanted to get hit?”
Shar was applying a regeneration potion that Yuri had given him. Normally, it would be better to leave the wounds to heal naturally, but Yuri had insisted, saying it would be strange to attend other classes with visible injuries. Crazy old man, if he knew that, he should have gone easier on him, right?
But it was definitely helpful. Although not as good as his downward strike, he was now able to swing the sword in other directions to some extent. As they say, humans learn through pain, right?
Normally, people wouldn't spend so much time on the basic swinging stage, but Yeon-woo was different.
Seriously, how could someone with such terrible talent even think about picking up a sword?
He had been tempted by the promise of being able to cut through the sky, but now he wondered if he should have chosen a different weapon.
However, even Yeon-woo himself had a lingering attachment to the sword. He had swung it for ten years. Repeating the same thing every day from the age of five to fifteen indicated an obsession that went beyond mere interest. He thought this body was quite stubborn.
As he sighed in resignation, he noticed Shar, who was moving energetically.
Shar's sleep time was gradually increasing. There was a limit to how positively he could think, "My daughter sleeps well."
When would the hatching happen? He hadn't asked specifically because Shar seemed reluctant to talk about it, but now it was time to inquire.
"Shar, you woke up well past lunchtime today, right? Can you tell me when you think you'll hatch? I'm worried, even if I pretend not to be."
