Unholy Player-Chapter 170: Sword Practice (Part 2)

"Come," Lucen said calmly as he slid his longsword from his back and held it at his side. Its sheath was still on, and he showed no intention of drawing it—instead, he simply stood there, loose and balanced, waiting for Adyr to move first.

"Let’s see what your future holds for a sword," his voice even, carrying a quiet assurance that felt like an unspoken challenge.

Adyr didn’t sense even a trace of arrogance in him.

So this is what they call a genius, he thought as he studied his posture.

Lucen stood there as if a breeze could come and go without disturbing him. Wind tugged gently at his long hair and white robe, yet his feet stayed rooted as though carved into the ground. He was shorter than Adyr and showed no obvious strength, but looking at him felt like staring up at a mountain.

Every detail of his stance was measured and natural. Nothing was forced. Nothing was wasted. Even with [Sense] pushed to its limit, Adyr couldn’t pick out a single obvious opening. It was like facing a high-walled fortress built to last forever.

A sharp smile tugged at Adyr’s lips—a rare, eager spark stirring inside him. It had been a long time since his eyes felt this blind.

He tightened his grip on the wooden handles of his training swords. Flipping the one in his right hand into a reverse grip and angling it across his chest, he held the left blade low, edge outward toward Lucen. Lowering his knees, he sank into a deeper stance so that his eyes stayed level with Lucen’s.

"You have a cautious stance," Lucen remarked evenly, his gaze tracing every small adjustment. There was no approval or mockery in his tone—just a calm, matter-of-fact observation that weighed him without the slightest shift in expression.

Adyr felt a faint discomfort. He was always the one observing, yet here he was failing while his opponent read him like an open page.

Still, he refused to let that unease break his cold demeanor as he made the first move, hoping to learn something even from his own mistakes.

If he had met someone like Lucen on the battlefield, his first instinct would have been to retreat; he knew he couldn’t win a fight against this man. But this was a friendly spar, and Lucen was his sword instructor. Adyr wanted to test every limit and absorb every small lesson he could.

His right foot kicked off the ground, propelling him forward.

The reverse-gripped sword in his right hand stood firm before his torso, unwavering as always to protect from above the waist. The lowered blade in his left hand waited like a stealthy snake, ready to strike at any moment.

Lucen remained still until the last moment. Only when Adyr’s right-hand sword swung toward his throat did Lucen raise his sheathed blade and block the strike.

Clank!

The iron scabbard clashed against Adyr’s blade, the sharp sound echoing across the training ground.

Adyr didn’t lose composure. That first attack was only a distraction. His next move came from the left blade, cutting upward toward Lucen’s unguarded arm with a powerful strike.

"Not just cautious, but sly and calculated," Lucen whispered, his voice carrying through the empty field as he smoothly twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the cut.

Adyr knew this wouldn’t work. Without breaking his momentum, he pressed his right sword harder against Lucen’s scabbard, forcing him off balance and back a step. At the same time, the left blade, still mid-air, swung down with a surge of strength aimed straight at Lucen’s neck.

For a moment, Lucen seemed to stagger backward, his balance threatened by the sudden attack.

Then, without even glancing at the blade coming from his blind spot, he sensed its trajectory and raised his sword just enough to catch the strike with the hilt.

The effortless block shocked even Adyr.

Seizing the moment before his own balance faltered, Adyr jumped back, regaining his footing and control.

It was like a chess game: three moves from Adyr, three counters from Lucen. In the end, the one forced to retreat was he.

Adyr didn’t rely only on the high perspective granted by his [Sense] stat. His elevated [Will] allowed him to perceive movement sharply. Still, Lucen read every move flawlessly and repelled them all with minimal effort. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

As a pure Astra Path, Lucen had no other stats to invest points in other than [Physique], but years of experience and hard work had pushed his speed and sense to their limits.

"You have the talent," Lucen said; the words were almost teasing, but his voice and expression carried no mockery. He meant it.

"Your technique is weak—almost nonexistent. You swing your swords by instinct alone. But that is exactly what makes you talented. The first thing a swordsman learns is how to wield the blade. For you, it seems to come naturally."

Adyr listened carefully and analyzed the words. Though he had been skilled with knives as a serial killer in his past life, he had never trained seriously with swords beyond some casual attempts. Yet Lucen was right—he instinctively knew how to wield the blade.

The swords in Adyr’s hands were more than just weapons. He didn’t use them simply to kill; he treated them as tools to get the job done.

He didn’t swing wildly. Like a wolf using its claws, every strike had a clear purpose.

"Come again. You will keep striking until you find your balance," Lucen said, standing still as before.

He decided to teach Adyr to find himself rather than focus on sword technique. He looked confused with the swords, and the only way out of that confusion was practice.

Adyr did not object. He prepared for his next attack. He was already receiving feedback from the training swords in his hands. He noticed the wooden handles felt small and hard, and the blades were slightly too short and thin.

Even if he couldn’t learn a new sword technique yet, at least he was beginning to form a clear idea of the kind of sword he wanted—and that alone was a significant gain for now.

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