Chapter 54: Mastery of the Basic Sword Technique

From the very beginning, he couldn't even stand on the reefs. Then, through repeated attempts, he managed to steady himself, and finally began to practice sword techniques, one form after another. Bit by bit, he made progress, inch by inch advancing forward. He integrated everything he had previously learned—horse stance, pillar stance, arm strength, wrist strength, grip, eyesight, and more. Each of these was gradually transformed into instinct, honed by the relentless pressure of the sea.

The pillar stance allowed him to keep his balance against the waves, never toppled. Arm and wrist strength adapted constantly to the resistance of the water, keeping the path of the iron bamboo sword steady. His eyes were always vigilant, alert in every direction, catching the approach of every wave at the very first sign.

Pressure! Pressure from the sea! Pressure from all sides! Without pressure, how could one improve?

In theory, human potential is limitless. But when you only face yourself, you see only your own reflection. Without external pressure, how can you climb again and again to the edge of your limits? Practicing swordsmanship in the sea was designed for precisely this effect. And the results were extraordinary.

Because their foundation had been built so solidly before, each day brought visible progress for the two of them. This was what Geng Shirou felt. Thanks to those strange, mysterious, and unique trainings, the two of them underwent a slow transformation the moment they touched the sword again.

Astonishment! Admiration! Awe! These were Geng Shirou’s daily emotions as he watched. He could not help but marvel at and respect the training arrangements made by Tang Shen! Each time, he believed he had already been amazed by those miraculous exercises, but every time Tang Shen would bring him even greater, more overwhelming shock. He thought he had seen through the effects, only to realize in the end that he had only grasped the surface.

Each exercise was interlinked, one laying the foundation for the next. Every training item had a deeper meaning for the future, likely laying groundwork for what was to come. Those truly were the basics! Each element was now practiced in their sword training in the sea, slowly melding into their own swordsmanship under the immense pressure of the ocean's winds and waves.

Without those painstakingly built foundations, Geng Shirou had no doubt that practicing swordplay in the sea would have been impossible, with no hope of such obvious improvement. Even getting started would have been as hard as reaching the heavens; one careless moment, and the hidden currents would have dragged them under, swallowed by the sea.

And this was only the beginning. Sword practice in the sea, unlike on land, presented entirely different resistance. Arm and wrist strength alone were far from sufficient; in the end, one risked fractured wrists, dislocated arms, and, with a single misstep, drowning.

Not to mention the terrifying training regimen, the relentless perseverance required.

All of this had been forged and refined through their earlier training. Many times, Geng Shirou recalled Tang Shen’s first evaluation of Kuina: “Your foundation is inadequate. From today onwards, you are forbidden to touch the sword until I deem your basics sufficient.”

At the time, he had been so furious he wanted to draw his broadsword and storm out to string Tang Shen up and chop him down. Eventually, he restrained his impulses. With the passage of time, facts proved he had been wrong.

Kuina’s foundation truly had been lacking. Comparing her now to a month ago—damn it, though he begrudgingly admitted it in his heart...

Geng Shirou: He just couldn’t help feeling deeply disgruntled. How could a child be so talented? Did her family even know how extraordinary she was? After living for thirty or forty years, he increasingly felt his own age had been lived in vain.

The more he thought this way, the more melancholy and frustrated he became. Such is human nature: once comparison sets in and you meet someone even better, it’s an explosion of emotions. Even a seasoned veteran like Geng Shirou felt this way—how much more so for others?

Comparisons only bring frustration.

Still, seeing his daughter improve every day, he felt quite happy. She was his precious child, after all. Though he firmly believed a woman could never become the world’s greatest swordsman, she was his daughter nonetheless.

It was just a pity that the one teaching her swordsmanship was no longer himself. As a father, this left a bitter taste in his heart. That’s why his impression of Tang Shen had always been poor; even though he greatly admired these training methods, he simply couldn’t bring himself to like Tang Shen—99.99% of that dislike came from having his daughter taken away from his side.

What is lost is always the most cherished.

At this moment, he felt as though he had lost his precious daughter. Yet sometimes, in his heart, he felt a measure of gratitude. Grateful for this young man’s arrival—without him, there would be no present or future Kuina. Had he continued treating his daughter as he did before, he truly did not know what might have happened to her.

……

Ten days passed.

Tang Shen stood atop the reef, as steady as a mountain. The iron bamboo sword in his hand swept horizontally, vertically, and diagonally—each stroke executed with fluidity, as if the resistance and unpredictable currents of the sea had no effect on his swordplay whatsoever. The path of the sword was clear, slicing through the water so smoothly that there was not a single flaw to be found—an utterly pleasing sight.

Moreover, his speed was astonishing, gone in the blink of an eye. It almost gave the illusion that the sea parted to allow his sword to sweep through.

Up close, one could see clearly: every time the sword cut through the water, there was a fleeting gap—a moment when the water was split. The interval was brief, but in that instant, the sea was indeed parted. It was merely that the water closed so swiftly behind that it appeared as though the sword simply passed through without resistance.

Splash!

A wave surged up, crashing down diagonally toward Tang Shen. Only his head was above the surface, his gaze not even fixed in that direction, and yet he saw it all. He raised his sword high, and in the instant the water fell, he delivered a swift vertical slash.

Amazingly, the chaotic water was cleaved in two, flowing past either side of his head. Not a single drop struck him. It was a miraculous, mesmerizing scene.

This was the result of tens of thousands—hundreds of thousands—of practiced sword swings. A unique insight, a special understanding of fundamental swordsmanship.

Kuina was no less impressive; her talent for swordplay was formidable. Her eyes swept in all directions, and no wave escaped her notice. The iron bamboo sword in her hand never paused for a moment, cutting down the oncoming waves with precision and discipline. At times, the waves were so numerous that many did strike her face, but as the pressure mounted, her slashes grew faster and faster, until finally she could fend off every wave attacking from more than 180 degrees in front of her.

At that moment, a prompt sounded in Tang Shen’s mind:

[Basic Swordsmanship has reached the Mastery Stage]

Through sword practice in the sea, he had forcefully advanced his basic sword skills from proficiency to mastery. With this breakthrough, the sword in his hand moved with even greater ease and precision than before.