“Did the performance I showed have its own effect?”
All the students lit up with excitement, focusing intently on what I was about to say.
With a pleasant smile, I continued, “So, you guys said you’ve heard the term 초식 (Chosik) for the first time, right?”
“Yes.”
I tossed questions around, boosting the class participation while buying myself some thinking time.
Now, where should I start explaining?
I lightly rolled my eyes, and for a moment, I thought of something good and smirked.
“Then let’s explain what 초식 (Chosik) is.”
“…Isn’t it basic swordsmanship?”
A student tilted their head in confusion, and I smiled faintly while nodding.
“Correct, it’s basic swordsmanship.”
Literally, 초식 is what you’d call ‘basic’ in its essence.
“So what do you mean by basic?”
I anticipated it, but no answer came.
It wasn’t that they weren’t participating; it’s just that the question was truly ambiguous.
I was aware of this as well, so I continued gesturing and speaking, not worrying about the silence.
“Basic means things like you have to have a foundation, such vague statements could lead to misunderstandings about being average.”
But that’s a bit of a misstatement in my opinion.
What I think of as ‘basic’ is akin to the ‘root.’
“For instance, think of that firmly grown tree; it’s like the roots.”
In other words, it’s the essence and foundation.
“Now let’s get back.”
Quickly scanning the students, I asked the one who seemed the most focused, “So then, what do you think the 초식 (Chosik) I mentioned is?”
“…Is it the basics of swordsmanship?”
A glimmer of hesitation crossed their face, but they gave the answer I wanted, so I smiled brightly and nodded.
“That’s absolutely right! In a roundabout way, 초식 refers to swordsmanship, which means the basics of martial arts.”
So, what is the foundation of martial arts?
Simple.
Using your arms, moving your legs, and however you can, moving your body to dominate or kill your opponent.
“And the 초식 (Chosik), based on that martial art, is about movements and forms for domination or killing; it’s a technique.”
“For example, the vertical cut I showed earlier is a 초식.”
Lifting my sword vertically to demonstrate meant I moved following a set form, hence it is a 초식 (Chosik).
“Are you starting to understand?”
After my long-ish but not too lengthy explanation, I observed the students’ reactions.
“…Yes.”
“I think I somewhat understand what 초식 is…”
A rather lukewarm response had me tilting my head.
Did I not explain it well?
Annoyed, I glanced at the Nameless, who was giving me a thumbs up with a small smirk.
“Tsk.”
I should be able to trust that guy’s reaction…
With a heavy sigh of distrust towards my disciple, I turned back to the students.
Some had light in their eyes, but the majority still looked confused.
“Hmm.”
While I pondered how to further explain this to them, a sharp-looking boy with purple hair raised his hand.
“Professor.”
This kid had been frowning the whole time, clearly not getting it.
“I have one question; is it okay to ask?”
“Oh, go ahead.”
With a sly grin, I nodded in response to his bold attitude.
It’s convenient when they ask first.
“I was impressed by your point that a solid foundation is necessary, and I agree.”
“Glad to hear that.”
His voice had a certain energy; he wasn’t nervous in front of me, who was vastly superior in strength.
Hmm, I wonder who this kid thinks he is.
While I was lost in such idle thoughts, he continued.
“But if one focuses too much on the basics, wouldn’t it make fluid adaptation difficult? I’d like to know about that adaptability.”
“Hoho.”
Is this kid who was just wondering about 초식 now actually thinking about techniques?
To ponder such things after only hearing about 초식…
Genius!
A smirk widened on my face.
The term ‘투로’ (Turo) literally means the flow of combat, what you might call ‘the path.’
In other words, it’s about connecting 초식 into one long movement.
“What a fantastic question!”
I said that and took a strawberry from my pocket, tossing it to the questioning student.
“This is a reward.”
“…A strawberry?”
With a puzzled expression, the student tilted their head, and I beamed at him.
“Hehe, be proud.”
“…”
“That guy just got a strawberry from the Master… ”
Ignoring the low mutter of the Nameless, I faced the students again and opened my mouth.
“Now, up until now, I’ve been explaining about 초식.”
“Yes.”
“It might be a bit premature, but I should tell you about my 투로 (Turo).”
“What is 투로…?”
I overlooked the groaning students rueing their pounding heads and continued.
Originally, they should’ve discovered their queries like the kid who asked, but consider this a small gift along with the strawberry.
“If 초식, that is, basic swordsmanship, is perfected to its limits, then how do you implement it in practice?”
If you’re merely training the same movements repetitively, you could say 초식 lacks practicality and is quite tricky to use.
Think about it.
Would waving a sword against unmoving scarecrows or thin air improve your practical ability?
…Of course, you would be better than someone who hasn’t done it, but the difference would still be minimal.
However, if you learn a corresponding 투로 that suits the 초식?
That’s when everything changes 180 degrees.
There are approximately 32 to 72 different methods prepared for one 초식.
This is obvious enough given the necessity of practicality.
In a given situation, choosing the right 투로 and implementing 초식 is what truly counts as martial art.
Yet, remember, 투로 isn’t all-powerful.
It’s what helps bridge the gap a bit between inexperienced newbies and seasoned veterans; but ultimately, real-world experience is the most beneficial.
However, if you only learn through experience in real battles, then your foundation will be alarmingly thin, and your potential for growth will be low.
The reason is that they won’t even know why they should wield a sword at all.
They just instinctively act like wild beasts.
Ironically, reaching a certain state means you would start shedding the techniques you learned.
This is gaining freedom.
It’s the truly ever-changing sword, creating your own unique 투로.
I’m not bragging, but that’s my level.
Yet sadly,
As far as I know, I don’t have the perfect path this kid desires.
Like I said earlier, it’s ever-changing, not perfect.
As I conveyed these thoughts, the boy who asked the question seemed lost in thought, stroking his chin.
“Thank you.”
Then he politely bowed his head in gratitude.
“What for?”
With a bright smile, I waved my hand dismissively and opened my mouth again.
“Any other questions?”
“Umm, what if…!”
“What about in such cases…?”
Seeing that they were quite satisfied with my previous answer, numerous questions started pouring out, and I happily answered everyone.
…At first, I was elated.
*
After a short lecture time known as a 시진,
I lay flat on the training ground, staring blankly at the sky.
“Ah.”
How did it come to this?
Due to the students, who were lighting up with questions during class, they ended up not swinging their swords at all.
…I intended to show them a hell that pretends to be physical training.
“How frustrating…”
With a deep sense of defeat creeping in, I sighed heavily.
When I think back, I’m sure I initially didn’t want to be a teacher at the academy.
Why am I working so hard to teach them…?
This sudden realization left me feeling so deflated that I didn’t want to move.
…Looking back now,
I remember teaching that clueless Nameless, and it felt somewhat fun.
“Hmm.”
As I lay there idly looking at the sky, a shadow began to cover my face, and I squinted to see its identity.
“…What is it? Your Master is busy right now.”
“Is that so?”
Of course, the figure was the Nameless; he didn’t seem to care about my busy comment and sat down right next to me.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“…Hard work?”
Oh, did I actually put in enough effort to be told that…
I pouted.
I didn’t really intend to go this far.
What made me want to teach them so willingly in the first place?
I’ve poured blood and sweat over 300 years to engrave it in my body; how many years could they save with my one word?
…Of course, it wasn’t a waste to teach the Nameless.
He’s not just anyone, he’s my disciple.
It’s just that, I feel uncomfortable giving precious knowledge to total strangers.
As I lay sprawled on the ground,
The Nameless slipped his legs under my head.
“What are you doing?”
“If you lay on such a hard floor, won’t your neck hurt?”
“Umm…”
It didn’t exactly hurt that much but,
He knew that, too.
Yet somehow, this wasn’t bad; I didn’t resist and let myself relax on him.
“You were magnificent.”
My lips twitched.
…He really knows.
Lazily leaning against the Nameless, I closed my eyes and began to feel the gentle breeze.
And then,
That damned sky really seemed not to like it when I tried to rest.
On the edge of my consciousness, something immensely bothersome flickered.
My brows furrowed.
