Chapter 14: Martial Technique

Early the next morning, the eastern training grounds were still damp with dew when Sigurd took his usual place inside the central practice circle.

The sun had only begun climbing over the walls of Sylvia’s estate, leaving half the field beneath long shadows, and Sigurd sat cross-legged on the cold stone.

His ash-white hair was tied loosely behind his head to keep it away from his eyes, and his attention remained fixed on Osric, who stood several paces ahead of him with both hands tucked into the sleeves of his dark instructor’s coat.

Osric had said that his foundations were finally sufficient for real Martial Techniques. Sigurd had spent enough time around the man to know that he wouldn’t make that statement casually.

Osric allowed him to wait for another minute before reaching beneath his coat and removing a thin booklet. It wasn’t impressive.

The cover was dark brown, the corners had been worn pale by years of handling. Osric glanced at the booklet once, then tossed it without warning.

Sigurd caught it against his palm and looked down at the faded characters written across the cover: SEVERING LINE.

Beneath the title sat two smaller words identifying its classification. Black Rank. Before he could open the booklet, the familiar chime of the System sounded inside his head, and a window unfolded across his vision.

[Martial Technique Detected.]

[Severing Line]

[Rank: Black]

[Type: Offensive Sword Technique]

[Classification: Single-Strike / Vis Reinforcement / Precision]

[Mastery: Unlearned]

[Core Principle: Synchronization of physical movement, Vis circulation, and cutting line.]

[Compatibility: High.]

He dismissed the notification and ran his thumb across the booklet’s worn spine. "Black Rank," he said, looking up. "I assumed you would start me with Yellow."

"I considered it," Osric replied. He walked closer and stopped at the edge of the circle. "Then I remembered I’ve spent two years correcting your stance, footwork, grip, breathing, distance, timing, and every other bad habit you tried developing. Your Basic Swordsmanship has reached Completion. Giving you a Yellow-Rank sword technique merely because it’s customary would serve little purpose. Black Rank will actually make you work."

Sigurd opened the booklet but didn’t begin reading yet. "How large is the difference between ranks?"

"Large enough that you should understand the system before deciding the book in your hands makes you special." Osric lowered himself onto a stone bench opposite Sigurd.

"Martial Techniques are methods created to use Vis, the body, a weapon, a Martial Soul, or some combination of them in a structured way. Techniques are generally divided into six recognized ranks: Yellow, Black, Earth, Human, Heaven, and Divine. The rank measures the Technique’s complexity, requirements, potential, efficiency, and its potential. It does not tell you how dangerous every person carrying that technique will be."

Sigurd immediately understood the distinction. "Because the practitioner matters."

"Exactly," Osric said. "Give the same sword technique to ten people and you will get ten different results. Their Martial Rank matters. Their Vis control matters. Their physical foundation, comprehension, experience, Martial Soul, and compatibility matter. Most importantly, their mastery matters."

He paused for a few seconds and then continued. "A higher-ranked technique gives you a greater framework, but possessing a manual isn’t the same as possessing what is written inside it. House Zierghardt has no shortage of descendants who understand that. In this family, anyone stupid enough to confuse inheritance with personal strength usually learns the difference painfully."

That sounded much closer to the Zierghardt Sigurd knew. Branch descendants, vassal heirs, and the direct line all trained from childhood.

Sigurd turned the booklet over.

"Then technique rank and mastery are measured separately." Sigurd had seen the same principle during his basic training.

Two swordsmen could perform the same cut, yet the difference in balance, timing, and judgment made one strike ordinary and the other dangerous.

Martial Techniques simply added Vis and deeper principles to that equation. The ranks therefore described the technique itself, while mastery described what the practitioner had managed to make of it.

Osric nodded approvingly. "Five broad stages are used across Eden. Schools and clans sometimes rename them, but the principles remain the same. Initial Understanding comes first. At that stage, you’ve learned the Technique’s basic form and can execute it successfully under controlled conditions. Your movement may still be rigid, your Vis circulation inefficient, and you may need concentration before activation. It means you’ve learned the technique. Nothing more."

"Minor Completion comes after that?" Sigurd asked.

"Yes. Minor Completion means the Technique has become reliable enough for actual combat. You understand its timing, circulation route, movement, activation conditions, and basic applications. You aren’t stopping to mentally recite instructions while someone is trying to remove your head." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Osric raised two fingers before continuing. "Then Major Completion. That’s where familiarity becomes understanding. Movements become instinctive, activation gets faster, Vis waste decreases, and practitioners begin discovering applications the manual doesn’t need to spell out for them. By then, you’re no longer merely copying the person who created the Technique."

Sigurd glanced at Severing Line again. He could already see why Osric was explaining this Its usefulness changed according to how deeply someone understood it.

"Perfection would mean there is almost nothing left to correct."

"Almost," Osric said. "At Perfection, the Technique is integrated into your combat system. Movement, Vis, timing, and intent work together naturally. Waste becomes minimal. Someone at that stage may use the Technique in ways that look completely different from the original instructional form while still obeying its principles. That’s why comparing techniques purely by rank can become misleading. A practitioner who has spent twenty years perfecting a Black-Rank technique may kill someone fumbling through the Initial Understanding of an Earth-Rank technique before the fool understands what happened."

"And the fifth stage?"

Osric paused. His expression didn’t become dramatic, but the answer clearly carried more weight.

"Transcendent Understanding. Don’t concern yourself with reaching it anytime soon. At that stage, you understand the principle beneath the Technique so completely that the original form stops being a boundary. You can alter movements, remove unnecessary parts, develop variations, merge principles with other Arts, adapt the Technique around your Martial Soul, or even create something new from what you learned. People capable of repeatedly reaching that level can eventually establish martial lineages of their own."

Sigurd was silent for a moment. That interested him far more than simply collecting increasingly powerful manuals. "So someone could theoretically take a low-ranked Technique to Transcendent Understanding and use its principle to create a higher-ranked one."

Osric’s eyes narrowed with satisfaction. "Now you’re thinking properly. Yes, although don’t mistake ’theoretically possible’ for ’easy.’ Transcendent Understanding is rare for a reason. Most practitioners never reach it with even one serious Technique. There is no shame in that. Major Completion already represents considerable mastery, and Perfection can require years depending on complexity. Your job isn’t to chase labels. Your job is to understand whatever you’re holding."

He pointed at the booklet in Sigurd’s hands. "Severing Line is a good example. Its instructional form is almost insultingly simple. One step, one circulation, one cut. Vis leaves your Core and travels through a prescribed route as your body moves. Your foot establishes position, your hips generate force, your upper body transfers it, and the Vis reaches the blade at the correct instant. Everything arrives together. If the Vis reaches your sword early, you waste energy and disturb the strike. If it arrives late, you’ve already missed the strongest point of impact. Poor edge alignment ruins it. Poor footwork ruins it. Poor timing ruins it."

"So you chose something that punishes mistakes in the basics."

"I chose something that exposes them," Osric corrected. "There’s a difference. You spent two years building those basics. Severing Line will tell me whether you actually own them when Vis is added to the equation. At Initial Understanding, you’ll probably need to prepare the circulation consciously. At higher mastery, the principle can be applied through different cuts and situations. But don’t worry about that yet. First, make the damned thing work once."

Sigurd finally opened the booklet. The first page contained a human figure marked with a Vis circulation route beginning near the Core and traveling upward through the torso toward the sword arm.

The following pages broke the strike into stages, with notes concerning breathing, foot placement, hip rotation, grip pressure, and the precise moment Vis should enter the weapon. Nothing appeared individually difficult. Performing all of it simultaneously was another matter.

His Perception and previous combat experience would help with the physical sequence, but Vis circulation was still something Viktor had never possessed.

Sigurd felt the beginning of a smile. Osric had been right.

This would actually make him work. Osric had deliberately chosen a technique with nowhere for sloppy execution to hide. Raw strength could not repair bad synchronization, and pouring more Vis into the blade would only magnify the waste.

For Sigurd, who had spent two years being corrected over centimeters of foot placement and tiny changes in his grip, that made Severing Line strangely appropriate indeed.

Osric noticed the expression and stood. "You have one week."

Sigurd looked up from the manual. "For what?"

"Reach Initial Understanding of Severing Line within seven days and I’ll give you a gift. What kind of gift depends on whether I think you earned it properly, so don’t start asking questions."

Osric turned away before Sigurd could respond and began walking toward the edge of the training grounds, hands returning behind his back. "Read the entire manual before attempting the circulation route. Twice. If you damage your Vis channels because you were impatient, I’ll tell your mother exactly how it happened."

Sigurd watched him leave, then lowered his gaze to the diagrams again.

A week was generous.

Perhaps suspiciously generous.

Across the field, Osric reached the exit and glanced back once.

Sigurd was already reading, completely absorbed in the booklet. The instructor’s stern expression cracked into a quiet satisfied grin as he pushed open the gate.

"This should keep that monster busy for a while."