Kyrian had executed the movement as though he were holding a sword, seeking precision, seeking control, seeking efficiency. But the saber was different. It did not want to be controlled; it wanted to be guided.
He tried again.
This time, he allowed the weapon's weight to carry part of the movement. Instead of forcing the blade to follow an exact trajectory, he guided it, giving it room to find its own path.
The result improved. The strike was smoother, more natural. But there was still hesitation. His body insisted on relying on the habits he had acquired during years of sword training. His muscle memory, so useful in many ways, had now become an obstacle.
He closed his eyes once more.
He recalled every line of the manual. The stance, the breathing, the transfer of force. The words seemed to dance through his mind, each contributing to a more complete picture.
He took a deep breath, allowing the air to fill his lungs and drive away the tension.
