Lost World-Chapter 44: Training

Well, the same pattern repeated over the following days.

Each morning, Yamamoto arrived at dawn. Warm-ups, drills, corrections, more drills. Greaves was a harsh teacher but fair—he pushed everyone equally hard, praised improvement without coddling, and had zero tolerance for half-effort.

That aside though, Yamamoto felt as though he was going there to get beaten up more than he was learning.

He always knew the cliché talk with swordsmanship, especially those he would watch in anime and the likes, talking about building strong foundation and the likes, but actually experiencing it for himself was nothing to smile about.

The entire time spent could be described as tedious and exhausting work. There were no flashy techniques or advanced skills, just endless repetition of fundamentals—how to stand, how to move, how to hold a blade at the correct angle, and the likes.

Even then, one thing that kept Yamamoto going with ought most dedication was the fact that he could see the improvement in real time.

By the third day, his Two-Handed Swordsmanship mastery had reached 42%. By the fifth day, 61%. The number climbed with startling speed, and as it rose, everything became... easier.

It felt really strange, and for a moment, he was tempted to use his mastery points, but he knew how difficult they were to get and how demanding sword mastery was of them, so he held off from using them. Besides, the speed of improvement was so fast he couldn’t believe it, it was certainly faster than all the times he had played the game.

As the percentage rose, though things didn’t exactly become easy, they certainly became easier.

Concepts that should have been overwhelming started clicking into place, his body absorbed the instructions faster, and muscle memory formed at an accelerated rate.

It really hit him then. The mastery percentage wasn’t just tracking his progress—it was actively enhancing his ability to learn and apply techniques.

The realization was both comforting and troubling. Comforting because it meant he could actually keep up with the training. On the other hand, it was troubling because it meant he was more dependent on system mechanics than he would have wanted.

...

On the sixth day, during a water break, Yamamoto approached Master Greaves.

"Master, I’d like to ask about learning one-handed sword techniques as well."

Greaves looked at him like he’d suggested juggling flaming swords while riding a unicycle.

"You want to learn two weapon styles simultaneously?"

"Yes, sir. I think I can handle—"

"No." Greaves said flatly, his words final with little room for negotiation.

Despite that, Yamamoto still tried to persuade him. "But I’m progressing well with the longsword," He pressed. "I feel like I could—"

"I don’t care what you feel like you can do," Greaves interrupted. "You chose to specialize in two-handed swordsmanship when you started training. You’ll stick with it until you’re at least competent. Splitting your focus now will just make you mediocre at both styles instead of good at one."

What he had said certainly made a lot of sense to Yamamoto, but even then...

"How long until I’m competent?"

"Months... Maybe a year. Depends on your dedication and talent." Greaves’s expression softened slightly. "I understand the appeal of versatility, but you’re thinking like a child, not a warrior. Real combat demands mastery, not breadth. Learn one thing well before you try to learn everything adequately."

With nothing else he could do, Yamamoto could only accept as break was over and he got back to training. Despite all that sense talked into him, he had other plans.

...

After that day’s training session, Yamamoto caught up with Caius as he was leaving.

"Excuse me. Could I ask you something?"

Caius turned, his expression politely neutral. Up close, his blue hair was even more striking, this guy was actually very handsome, perhaps second only to Yamamoto. His eyes held that same analytical quality Yamamoto had noticed during their sparring match as he waited.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you. Master Greaves won’t teach me one-handed swordsmanship yet, he says I need to focus on two-handed first, but I’d like to start learning both. Would you be willing to train me in one-handed techniques? I can pay—"

"No payment necessary," Caius said, his tone somewhat businesslike, with a mild polite smile on his face. "Training partners benefit both sides. If you’re serious about learning, I’ll teach you what I know."

"I’m serious." Yamamoto answered right away.

"Then we can meet after evening sessions. One hour, in the practice yard behind the dojo. I’ll show you the basics." Caius adjusted the strap on his equipment bag. "But understand—I won’t go easy on you just because you’re new. If you waste my time with lack of effort, I’ll stop teaching."

"Understood. Thank you."

Caius nodded once and walked off, his bearing very composed and professional. Despite his smile, there was little warmth in them, no friendliness, but also no hostility either.

Anyway, that was something Yamamoto could work with.

That evening, just as planned, they met up in the practice yard that Caius had mentioned. He even brought with him, two swords, single-handed swords.

He tossed one to Yamamoto, and without wasting any time, they got to practice immediately.

He demonstrated a basic one-handed guard, then asked Yamamoto to try it. As he did, Caius went around, fixing up any lapses, and from there they proceeded into other things.

Caius’s teaching style was technical, almost academic—he explained the mechanical reasoning behind each technique but offered no encouragement or reassurance. When Yamamoto did something correctly, Caius simply moved on to the next technique, and when he made mistakes, he’d correct Yamamoto.

As the training continued, Yamamoto noticed the same accelerated learning he’d experienced with two-handed techniques. Concepts that should have taken longer to grasp became clear after a few demonstrations, even Caius with his mostly stoic expression was visibly surprised.

By the end of the first session, Yamamoto’s One-Handed Swordsmanship mastery had climbed to 71%.

The second evening session pushed it to 84%.

By the third evening, he crossed 95%.

"Hold," Caius said suddenly during their fourth training session together. He was staring at Yamamoto with an expression that wasn’t quite his usual neutrality—there was something sharper there, more focused. "Do that sequence again. The one I just showed you."

Yamamoto repeated the combination again as told, waiting for corrections. He was sure he executed it perfectly, but he could never be too sure.

Caius watched in silence, then shook his head slowly.

"That’s... how long have you been training in one-handed style total?"

"Counting these sessions with you? About ten hours."

"Ten hours," Caius repeated flatly. "And you’ve gone this far."

He set down his practice sword as he turned to face Yamamoto fully and then taking a seat on the ground. For the first time since they’d met, there was genuine emotion in his expression—not anger or jealousy, but something closer to disbelief.

"I’ve been training since I was eight years old. I was considered a genius, and yet it took me three months to reach the level of proficiency you’re showing right now... And you’ve done it in less than two weeks between Master Greaves’s instruction and our sessions."

Yamamoto acted as though he didn’t quite get everything Caius was trying to say, saying nothing except a shrug. What could he say? Oh, it’s probably because I have a game system that treats sword mastery like experience points? Who’d even believe that?