Chương 46: Dance

"Driving your arms when slashing is important, yes," Nabi said.

"But the core of swordsmanship isn't in your hands. It's in the feet."

"What exactly am I doing wrong?" Gray shrugged, staring down at his feet.

"I don't think my footwork has ever impeded my strikes." Nabi shook her head and slid the katana back into its scabbard.

"Your fundamental mindset about footwork is flawed. You shouldn't be worrying about your sloppy footwork getting in the way, but rather, how it can complement your slashes." She squared her shoulders, stood as upright as possible, and planted her feet shoulder-width apart. Her hand snapped to the hilt. In a blur, she yanked the steel free, stopping the blade in the air directly in front of her. The metal hummed from the sudden deceleration.

"With my posture completely upright, there's no power backing the sword. My stance is also cutting my piercing range in half. Worse, if an enemy parries my strike and steps inside my guard, a light breeze would knock me off balance." Nabi dropped into a half-squat, and turned her body sideways. Her left hand clamped onto the base of the scabbard. This time, when she drew the blade, she exploded forward. Her lead foot slammed against the sand with a crack as the steel shot out in a piercing thrust.

"Footwork and balance are one and the same," she said, holding the lunge perfectly still.

"A true strike must engage your core, your hips, your legs, your wrists, and even the alignment of your head."

"Your entire body works as a unified machine," she continued.

"Your hands merely guide the tool, while your legs act as the engine, driving the optimal force into your blade." She tapped her lead foot against the ground once again.

"I exaggerated that stomp to demonstrate the amount of force you need to drive into your lead leg." She straightened her posture and crossed her arms, looking at him with a skeptical glare.

"Are you actually absorbing any of this?"

"I am, actually," Gray said.

"It's like baseball. A batter lifts their lead foot and plants it hard right before swinging to generate enough torque. It's a basic concept everyone knows, but because I don't have a background in sports, let alone actual sword fighting, I never thought to proactively apply it during my fights." Nabi let out a low hum of approval.

"Exactly. That's why we call them fundamentals—they are only the foundation. Any competent fighter has these basics ingrained in them. But to elevate from merely competent to formidable, you have to understand the next step: chaining." She drew the blade again, slipping back into the stance of her quickdraw thrust.

"The biggest issue with your fighting style? You have no plan B. You dump all your energy into a single swing. If that attack doesn't decapitate your target, you're left overextended, off-balance, and primed to be gutted."

"Choreography and swordplay are synonymous with each other." She pushed off her lead foot, and swept her trailing leg forward in a fluid leap. She twirled through the air—light and graceful—before landing on the sand without a sound. In the same motion, she whipped the blade through a backhanded arc that cleaved the air.

"At times, you'll have to freestyle." After clamping her free hand onto the hilt, she pressed the butt of the pommel to her shoulder and pierced the air in a forward thrust.

"And when you've exhausted all your options? Improvisation is your best friend." She flipped the katana over into a reverse grip and plunged the weapon downward. The steel bit deep into the playground sand with a gritty crunch. Nabi wrenched the blade free, kicking up a heavy spray of sand aimed directly at the eyes of her imaginary foe. A smirk tugged at the corner of Gray's mouth.

"Always think one step ahead." Nabi held up three fingers.

"Three steps. But focus on one for now."

"Can I ask you something? What did you do before all of this? I mean, sure, Ava taught you how to fight, but your movements are so… how do I say… fluid?" Gray wiggled his wrists in a wave. Nabi froze for a split second, then answered.

"Ballet. I did ballet for the better part of half my life, and I did a bit of fencing as well." She scanned Gray's decrepit frame from head to toe.

"Flexibility is another crucial component of combat. But that doesn't quite seem like your thing. We'll skip that." Gray ignored her jab. He completely ignored her fencing credentials and zeroed in entirely on her first word. A sharp snort escaped him, quickly escalating into a thunderous laugh.

"Ballet? You?" Nabi hurled the sword at his face. Gray yelped. He jerked sideways, bringing up a knee and throwing both arms over his head to shield himself. A resonant hum vibrated through the air. The blade halted a half-foot from his forearm and completely defied gravity. It hovered for a beat, then slowly rotated on its axis to present the hilt to its owner. Gray cracked one eye open. He let out a shaky breath, uncurled from his standing fetal position, and wrapped his fingers around the handle.

"Man, it's good to have a Soul Blade," he muttered, petting the flat of the metal. Nabi scoffed, tossing the empty scabbard at his chest.

"You're undeserving of that weapon, you know that?" The amusement vanished from Gray's face in an instant, replaced by a sudden flash of anger. He squinted at the former ballerina.

"Undeserving?" His voice pitched into a dolphin falsetto.

"Do you have any idea what I had to endure—" Nabi raised a palm, cutting him off.

"Ask yourself honestly. Do you think you, with your current skillset, can capitalize on that sword's true potential?" Gray didn't respond, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"So work hard and apply what I've just taught you." She turned on her heel and beckoned him to follow. They resumed their trek through the city in silence.

"So," Nabi broke the silence after a few blocks, keeping her eyes on the street ahead.

"I heard you're good friends with Jun." Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Gray quickly swiveled his head to Nabi's side profile and narrowed his eyes.

"Friends? Who told you that?"

"The man himself." Nabi raised her arms in a shrug.

"I ran into him during the third level. He was leading a party of Hiders, formed specifically to fend off any Seekers trying to hunt them down. I stalked them with the intention of slaughtering the entire group, but I ended up sparing them." Gray raised an eyebrow." You? Spare someone?"

"I saw how efficiently he ran the operation," Nabi admitted.

"They had a tight, ten-step contingency plan designed specifically to counter a Seeker infiltrating their ranks. It was admirable in a way. And I wasn't about to test it."

"That was also when he mentioned how a smoke magic user got him through the second level," Nabi added.

"He said it would've been incredibly useful to have that skill again to fend off any attackers." Gray waved off her comment.

"Must be a different Jun." Nabi raised a brow, turning to look at him.

"Do you know of any other smoke users?" Gray opened his mouth to reply, but heavy clank of metal greaves echoing through the street cut him off. Two figures rounded the corner of the intersection, stepping directly into their path. The man on the left was a walking fortress. He towered over Gray's perfectly respectable five-foot-eight and three-quarters of an inch frame—so 5'9.

They were equipped entirely in thick steel-plate armor from the neck down, he marched with his chest puffed out, and a massive broadsword was strapped across his broad back. Beside him stood a short woman with thick-rimmed glasses, the top of her head barely reaching the knight's chest level. She clutched a long staff capped with a silver gemstone and wore a metallic-gray wizard robe. Small, platinum buckler shields lined the hem of the fabric, clinking softly as she moved.

Name: Ethan Parker Class: Champion Level: 4 Rank: Awakened Ladder Rank: 210 Name: Rosie Marie Class: Sentinel Level: 4 Rank: Awakened Ladder Rank: 285 The instant the new arrivals spotted Gray and Nabi, they sprang into action. Ethan reached over his shoulder. He pulled his heavy broadsword free and leveled it at the two. Rosie mirrored the aggression, pointing the tip of her staff forward with one hand while her other hand trembled beside it. Gray instantly dropped a hand to the scabbard on his left hip.

Beside him, Nabi interlaced her fingers behind her head and began whistling. Gray shot a look over his shoulder, and Nabi responded with a sharp jerk of her chin toward the duo—signaling him to handle it by himself. Gray sized up the two threats. One of them was completely bluffing. Ethan wore a massive grin, clearly itching for a fight. But the mage beside him was a mess. Rosie's entire body was trembling, causing the heavy staff to rattle in her grip.

Gray released his grip on the hilt and raised his empty hands in surrender; flashing a harmless smile as he slowly closed the distance.

"Hey, guys! Let's all calm down. We can all survive this together. There's no need for us to fight—" He stomped his lead foot into the concrete, lowered his center of gravity, seized the hilt, and ripped the katana out of its scabbard. Tobari shot upward in a diagonal sweep, aimed straight for the warrior's neck. Ethan's confident grin vanished. He couldn't raise his broadsword in time to block the cheap shot. Then, a chime rang in the air.

Mere inches from slicing through Ethan's throat, a silvery projection of a round buckler blinked into existence. His steel katana slammed into the shield, parrying the strike wide. A bright white light pulsed from his side. Rosie had her staff aimed at her partner, its silver gemstone glowing with a bright-gray sheen. With his dirty quickdraw technique now thwarted, Gray backpedaled and put a safe distance between himself and the hulking warrior to stand beside Nabi once again.

"I know I just told you there's no such thing as cheating in this world," Nabi sneered.

"But that was genuinely one of the sleaziest things I have ever witnessed." Gray shrugged it off.

"How else am I supposed to deal with that mountain?" Rosie's frail voice called out to them.

"U-um… guys?" she stammered.

"Is it okay… if… we just go our separate ways?" Nabi dropped her hands from behind her head.

"Absolutely not." She leaned in close to Gray's ear, shielding her mouth with her hand.

"The warrior is obviously the key holder," she murmured.

"You can easily take on the mage. She doesn't seem like much of a fighter. It'll be a hell of a payday for both of us when we consume her points." Nabi slapped Gray hard on the back and shoved him forward. Gray stumbled a step, shooting a weary glance over his shoulder. The thought of fighting somebody pleading to retreat didn't sit quite right with him. Nabi flashed a wide, predatory smile and gave him a double thumbs-up.

To drive her point home, she dropped into a half-squat, drew an imaginary katana from its sheath, and swung it through the air. Gray let out an embarrassed groan and turned back to face his opponents. Ethan had moved. The armored brute now stood directly between Gray and the mage. He had his massive arms spread wide, blocking Rosie entirely from his view.

"Please, I beg you," Ethan said.

"She cannot fight you in a duel. She only possesses defensive magic. If you let us go, we'll make sure to return the favor." Gray let out a low grunt.

"I don't want an unnecessary fight either. I harbor no resentment against your partner, but I still need the points to reach the top 100. So, can you just hand your key card over?" Ethan swallowed hard, and shook his head.

"N-no. I can't do that. Neither of us has reached the top 100 yet, either. Please. Just let us go."

"Just start poking him with your blade!" Nabi shook her fist from behind.

"He'll have to step aside because of the combat penalty!" Gray scowled, looking back at her.

"But do they really deserve to die? There are other ways to pass this level without slaughtering each other, Nabi." Nabi marched over, wrapped an arm around Gray's shoulders, and dragged him a few paces away from the duo. She looked back at the warrior and held up an index finger.

"Just give us a second, will you?"

"Deserve to die?" she yelled in a hushed whisper.

"What do you think you are, some kind of adjudicator?" She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

"Did that man 'deserve to die' a minute ago when you tried to sever his head?" Gray crossed his arms.

"I… I was just testing out the technique. There wasn't actually a chance that strike was actually going to kill that tank." Nabi's eyebrows shot up in appalled disbelief.

"Ah, I see. So because your new opponent is a frail little girl now, it's somehow different? Do you still think you're in a video game, Gray? Just testing out your brand new techniques on NPCs?"

"You're holding a weapon. It serves one singular purpose. You do not draw steel on another person unless your intent is to put them into the ground." Gray lowered his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sure, you have a point. I'm not saying that I won't kill. I'll happily eliminate the Riftborn. But don't you think executing another human in cold blood is crossing the line?" Nabi exhaled a heavy breath.

"Then where exactly do you draw the line? Is it acceptable to slaughter the Riftborn simply because they possess a lower intelligence? Who appointed you the judge of who is and isn't 'deserving' of death? There is no clear line of morality anymore, Gray. The awakened have painted over it with their bloody hands. If you want to survive in this new world, you have to become a ruthless killer." The moral gymnastics exhausted him. Nabi made valid points, but her logic felt inherently flawed.

Awakened had to kill the Riftborn in self-defense, right? To avoid being mauled. But didn't Gray walk into that club of his own volition and slaughter an entire goblin horde that wasn't threatening him in the slightest? What about the people who genuinely deserved it, like Jun? Jun murdered for personal gain. Then again, wasn't it his fault that Jun resorted to killing him, to get rid of the shadow he created? What about Ivan? Did he truly deserve to die? What about—no, that fucker absolutely needed to die.

Ultimately, the logic didn't matter. With Nabi restricted from combat, he was the only one capable of fighting at the moment. The choice rested entirely on his shoulders. Everyone could survive this level by reaching their designated drop-off points, and there was no need for unnecessary bloodshed. After resolving his internal debate, Gray clicked the katana back into its scabbard and turned back to the terrified duo. The wet, sickening sound of tearing flesh and shattering bone cut through the stand-off.

Two massive, oversized longswords plunged from the sky. They drove straight down the backs of Rosie and Ethan's necks, staking them through the length of their spines. Death was instantaneous, and their bodies went completely limp. A man crouched in the space between the two fresh corpses, casually resting his elbows on the crossguards of the embedded blades, with a third longsword hovering horizontally into place just beneath his hip.

Settling onto the flat of the hovering steel like a makeshift blade chair, the figure crossed his legs and flashed a wide smile.

"It's good to see you again, Gray!" Gray flinched as his blood ran cold.

"Shota?!"