All in all, the book was fairly straightforward and easy to grasp. He was right, there weren't any special techniques or refinements to it; most of it relied entirely on his raw physical strength.
And while that might seem stupid, that's only if you had the same physical strength as a real human.
Him. And now, by extension, me. Definitely didn't fit that bill.
Especially since I was in his body. Well, at least that reduced the hardest part of mimicking his sword style. The only problem now was removing all the instincts my old HEMA hobby had honed, along with the training I had just undergone.
"Feels like I'm going in circles..."
I sighed, scratching the back of my neck. Even as a duke, life really couldn't be that easy, huh? Well, at least after I'm done with this, I can spend time with Faye. And it wasn't because I wanted to complete the mission.
As much as I hated to admit it, I was quite a sucker for romance, especially now that I could be dominant like this.
Hopefully, I don't let it get into my head and be too villainous. That's the last thing I want, maybe slightly scary duke would work.
I let out a quiet laugh, flipping the book shut.
Slightly scary. Yeah, that sounded manageable. Not the kind of man people feared for breathing wrong, but the kind they thought twice about crossing.
Good middle ground.
Better than whatever the original Cassian had going on.
I glanced back at the diagrams. Open guard. Bad angle. Invitation.
"...Right."
If I wanted this to work, I couldn't just understand it. I had to commit.
That was the real problem. Not strength, not speed, not technique. Instinct. Every time I picked up a sword, my body defaulted to something cleaner, safer, balanced. Years of habit kicking in without asking. And this style rejected all of that.
"Forget what you know," I muttered, echoing the book.
Easy to say. Hard to do.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaled, and glanced toward the door.
"...Guess there's only one way to fix that."
***
The training room was quieter this time. Not peaceful, just waiting. The android still stood where I'd left it, powered down, silent, like it had never tried to take my head off hours ago.
I walked past the control panel and stopped in front of the machine.
Then, deliberately, I lowered my stance. Not into anything I'd practiced. Not into anything correct. Open guard. Blade angled wrong. Weight uneven. A stance that would've made any instructor look at me like I'd lost my mind.
"...This feels awful."
That meant I was doing it right.
I tapped the panel.
Click.
The machine came alive, runes flickering, visor glowing, and the moment it moved, I didn't wait. I stepped forward first. No hesitation, and no testing.
Just closing the distance.
CLANG!
The impact was messier. Not only that but it was also louder, closer, too close for comfort in fact. Our blades locked almost immediately, the clean spacing gone, replaced with raw pressure as I forced forward, my shoulder nearly slamming into its frame. This wasn't sword fighting anymore. This was a shove with sharp metal involved.
"...So this is what you meant."
The android adjusted, trying to create space. I didn't let it. I pushed in harder.
CLANG!
The strike was ugly. No finesse, no clean arc, just a short, brutal motion meant to overwhelm rather than outplay. And for the first time, the machine actually had to correct.
Not predict.
Not guide.
But literally correct. It looked like my swordstyle and surprising strength had even managed to trick the advanced combat AI in its head.
My grin widened.
"Yeah... okay."
This was it.
It was the opposite of pretty, and it definitely wasn't elegant. But it worked.
CLANG!
I took another step forward, and that was all I needed to finish him.
I grabbed the machine's wrist and wrenched the weapon out of its hand, throwing it far away as I drove my elbow into its chest. I wanted to hit it in the head, but I'd rather not damage it too badly, just in case.
BANG!
The machine stumbled backward, and that was it for him.
FWISH!
My sword was at its throat, and this time it wasn't a tie. Just before it stopped, I could see that it had tried to grab my wrist at the last second to disarm me as well. But just like the book said, if you have a body strong and fast enough...
It didn't matter.
"It... actually worked?"
I tilted my head in shock, but then there was one caveat to this victory. If I had allowed the dummy even five seconds to recover, then I'd likely have been the one who lost—and quite badly as well.
Again, the book wasn't wrong. This style was effective, but also stupidly risky.
[Noctierre's Swordstyle: 4.6%]
That's higher progress than I expected!
If I kept this up for just a few more hours, I might even reach the quest objective before the day—
"Cassian, are you there?"
The door opened behind me, and that voice was unmistakably familiar.
Faye?
[Faye Amberlyne: Personality heavily shifted due to actions.]