World's Last Hope-Chapter 86: The Path of Instinct

Eric stood in a large yard, surrounded by open space with nothing within a 100-meter radius. The air was clear and pleasant—perfect for training.

He was clutching a dull wooden sword in his right hand, standing before Grandmaster Gryndor. The reason he wasn’t using his cursed sword was because there was always the danger of accidentally striking Gryndor and dooming his soul.

Taking a deep breath, Eric gathered his strength in his legs as he dashed with everything he had.

Raising his sword, he was prepared to strike.

"Weak," Gryndor spoke as he effortlessly blocked Eric’s slashes with one hand.

"You are slashing aimlessly, hoping that your attacks connect with your opponent," Gryndor explained as he kicked Eric in the chest and sent him flying away.

Eric grunted for a moment as he stood up and asked Gryndor, "Then how am I supposed to attack?"

Gryndor spoke firmly, "The problem is that when you are attacking, you are sending your whole body flying toward your opponent, which is a mistake. You have to be the one that controls the sword, not the other way around."

Gryndor raised his sword as he motioned for Eric to attack.

Without hesitating, Eric did just that, but his attack was blocked again.

"You have to strike with your whole body, but at the same time, you should be able to raise your sword again effortlessly should your attack be parried or blocked." Gryndor took a step back, making space for Eric to attack.

’I have to attack using my body weight, but at the same time, I have to be able to move fast if the need arises. These are two contradictory things! You can’t have both!’ Eric gritted his teeth again as he tried another attack, only to fail again.

Gryndor again took a step back, giving the opportunity for Eric to try again.

He attacked once, twice, a dozen, a hundred, a thousand times, but each swing was miles away from reaching Gryndor as he effortlessly parried and blocked them.

Seeing the grim expression on Eric’s face, Gryndor smiled.

"It is frustrating, isn’t it? My way of teaching."

Eric scoffed, "Honestly? Yes, yes it is," he admitted.

Gryndor smiled at his honesty.

"There are other teachers that will try to teach you all different ways to use a sword—different sword styles," his face darkened.

"But in truth, all that is bullcrap. There doesn’t exist a sword fighting style."

Eric raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Gryndor sighed as he put down his sword. "Look at me. What do you see? What am I doing?"

Eric glanced at Gryndor. The old man was just standing, gripping his sword with his left hand.

"Nothing?" he answered hesitantly.

The next second, Gryndor kicked him hard and sent him flying.

"Wrong. Again, what do you see? What am I doing?"

Eric cursed quietly as he stood up, "You are just standing?"

Again, he was kicked even harder and sent flying.

"Wrong. Again, what do you see? What am I doing?"

’The fuck do you mean what you are doing? You aren’t doing anything!’ Eric was getting slightly angry at the teaching style of the old man.

"But you aren’t doing anything!"

Gryndor sighed, "Wrong... okay, look at it the other way. What are you doing right now?"

"What am I doing?" Eric asked himself as he glanced at his right hand that was carrying a sword.

"I am training?"

"That is correct, but at this moment in time, you aren’t moving at all. So what are you doing in this specific moment of time?"

Eric was silent for a moment, trying to understand what the old man was trying to tell him.

"Nothing?... I am standing?"

"Good," Gryndor smiled. "You are standing! What else?"

"...This is it, old man. I am not doing anything else."

Gryndor sighed as he put his right hand on Eric’s head. "No, you are, but you don’t realize it." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"What do you mean I don’t realize it?"

Without answering, Gryndor silently moved his left hand and put it over Eric’s mouth as he pinched his nose.

Eric’s eyes widened as he realized he couldn’t breathe. He tried to break free of the Grandmaster’s grip but was unable to. He wasn’t able to breathe for ten, twenty, thirty seconds.

Once he felt like he was about to pass out, Gryndor moved away his hand, and Eric breathed out as much as he could.

"What the fuck was that for?" he shouted as he took a moment to recover.

Gryndor smiled, "What did I do?"

"You blocked my nose and mouth so I almost died!" Eric screamed.

"Yes, and now that I removed my hand, what did you do?"

"I—" Eric’s eyes widened in realization, "I... breathed?"

"Yes," Gryndor responded as he placed his hand over Eric’s eyes, making him unable to see anything.

After about ten seconds, he removed his hand. "Now?"

"I... am blinking?"

"So aside from standing, you are also breathing and blinking, no?"

Eric scratched the back of his head, "I mean, yes, but isn’t that obvious? Everybody does that."

Gryndor walked a few steps back as he picked up his sword from the ground.

"But just a moment ago, you didn’t think to say that you were breathing, nor that you were blinking. Do you know why?"

Eric scratched his chin, "Because I do that automatically?"

"Precisely," Gryndor raised his wooden sword and then slashed.

A second later, he created a small crater just from the act of swinging his sword down.

"These are actions that you do automatically without even thinking about them. This is what you have to achieve with your sword training. You have to be able to respond to any attack without even thinking about it."

"But to do that—"

"You will need millions of tries, yes," Gryndor interrupted him.

"That is, of course, obvious. Unlike breathing or blinking, fighting isn’t something you’re born knowing how to do instinctively. Because of that, your grasp on combat is limited at first. To overcome this, you must train relentlessly—until exhaustion, for as long as it takes. This is the true way to master the sword—not by learning some fighting style, but through sheer experience," Gryndor explained.

"This... will take a long time then," Eric pointed out.

"As all things in life do, Eric. We have trained now for about an hour. Do you know how many times you have failed to cut me?"

"A hundred? Two hundred?"

"A thousand. Each attempt gets blurred in your memory, so you naturally forget... but your body remembers. With each failed attempt, you get a bit better. That is how you learn how to use a sword. With experience, you create your unique fighting style. Each body is different, so each person has a unique fighting style," Gryndor explained.

Eric couldn’t help but admit that the old man was a much better teacher than he thought he would be. He tightened the grip on his sword as he smiled, "Let’s go once more!"

Meanwhile, Aria was sitting on the ground with one leg over the other, meditating. She was doing what her grandfather had instructed her to do to achieve the true strength of a Grandmaster.