454 Chapter 454: Teaching a Disciple

"Yeah, like this."

Demonstrating the sword stance, I had Melina Franklin repeat my motions. After a while, I instructed her to practice, and she complied, swinging the sword over and over again, in the manner I taught her to.

"That's right! Practice makes perfect, so keep swinging that sword. Do it over and over again until your body memorizes the movement…until you can do it automatically, without thinking. Practice until it becomes a natural reflex for you."

That was how Dad taught me, and now I was imparting the same lesson to Melina. She took it seriously and swung her sword without complaint. I was glad that she didn't resent me for starting from the basics. As always, the best way to master swordsmanship was to establish a solid foundation. Even though I couldn't call myself a master swordsman, Dad had ensured that I had a solid foundation at least. That was the only reason why I could hold my own against master swordsmen and swordswomen. Despite lacking the skills to prevail against them, I could at least not lose…for a very long time.

Mind's eye. A technique that allowed me to read my opponent's movements, anticipate their attacks and react accordingly. Honestly, as impressive as it sounded, it was simply a skill that I attained through years of hard work and countless practice. It was something I knew for sure that Melina would achieve as long as she put her heart into it. This was just something normal, a skill that anyone could learn. Certainly, it was not as good as the natural combat intuition or battle instinct that prodigies such as Charles Lacroix, Cecilia Stuart or Kureha Franklin possessed, but it allowed normal people like us to hold our own against them.

To not lose, basically.

However, it was not something that could be learned within a day. That was why I began with sword swings. The most basic of kendo, the technique that every kendo master would drill into their disciples when the latter set foot into their dojos for the very first time. The same lesson that Dad knocked into me. Getting used to the feel of the sword, the weight of the blade, and ingraining the movement into your body to the point that you and your sword became one. This sort of thing didn't require any monstrous talent or whatever. Just hard work.

Melina probably knew this too, for she accepted my instructions without questions or complaints and endeavored to acclimatize her body to swinging the sword. She was so focused that she didn't seem to be paying any attention to her surroundings, her blue eyes completely fixated upon her bamboo sword alone.

Perspiration dripped off her face as she swung her sword again and again. Taking the opportunity to practice, I swung the sword beside her – as much as to benefit my own development as it was to demonstrate to her how it was done. Furthermore, I was aware that if Melina saw me practicing alongside her, she would be more motivated. It was basic human instinct. If you were doing something by yourself, you often couldn't muster the discipline to train. However, it was a different story altogether if you had someone join you. You would be motivated to do something instead of slacking off like I usually did when I was on my own.

From the side, Dad watched in approval. He didn't say anything, but I knew he would surely give me advice and remind me of what I should do after today's training session was done. The only reason why he stayed silent right now was because he didn't want to embarrass me in front of Melina. That would undermine my authority as an instructor in front of my own student and cause her to not take me seriously in future. And furthermore, he might as well take over the training instead of have me do it if he was going to reprimand and correct me right in front of her in the first place.

Speaking of which, I actually wished he would just take over the training himself because I preferred to be training my ice magic right now instead of training someone else. I wasn't even strong enough myself, and I had a long way to go before I could compare to the likes of Feng Hai or even Charles Lacroix, never mind Dad himself. What right did I have to teach other people when I was quite incompetent and weak myself?

Honestly, I was in no position to train others. I had no right to call myself a teacher, not when I was so weak and pathetic. Just look at the readers' comments if you don't believe me. Most readers had condemned me as a weakling, spineless, inferior and pathetic, complaining when I lost and whining about how I was so weak, stupid and retarded. I really couldn't understand what Duke Fergus Franklin saw in me. If he would just listen to the voices beyond the fourth wall, he would know that I wasn't fit for the job.

Unfortunately, for some reason he chose to disregard the judgemental and critical evaluations of readers beyond the fourth wall and appraised me as someone worthy enough to teach his daughter. Much to their chagrin – after all, the readers were always right, the author never knew what he was doing and the main character was always stupid, retarded, spineless and weak if he lost even a single battle. Or better still, even if I won but I got severely injured and "bled", they whined about me being weak because I couldn't win effortlessly by curbstomping the enemy. What the fuck? Seriously? There were actually people who whined that I was weak, not because I lost, but because I bled and got injured while fighting against powerful enemies? Jesus Christ. I still didn't understand why they insisted on reading if they loved to condemn and insult me at every available opportunity. Like, seriously, if they wanted a strong, powerful and invincible main character who never lost a single battle because he was practically on god mode and curbstomped every single opponent foolish enough to bare its fangs at him, they could read several thousand other stories on this website, rather than force their wish fulfillment power fantasies upon me. I was a perfectly normal and very average guy, already trying to do my utmost best amidst an environment of superhumans and geniuses. What exactly were they expecting? One Punch Man? I was more Deadpool than Saitama.

Stop projecting your Battle Frenzy or xianxia cultivation clichés and wish fulfilment tropes on me. I was never going to become some invincible god who stomped my opponents without so much as lifting a finger. I wasn't going to be granted victories automatically because I was the protagonist or because I had some "cheat." Hell, what was with the reader demanding that I reveal my "cheat" in the first ten chapters? I DO NOT HAVE ANY CHEAT, YOU FUCKING RETARD! I never wrote anything like that in my synopsis, so don't go around making stupid assumptions and then screaming at me when nothing of that sort existed!

"Sensei?"

"Ah, sorry."

I realized that I had been too caught up in my self deprecating and inward rants that my swings had slowed. Noticing the change in my pace, Melina was concerned. Damn it, and I was supposed to set a good example for her. Whoops, my bad.

"Just thinking of something. I'm sure you're getting tired of the swings, so I'm thinking that we should try footwork next."

Good thing I was quick on my feet and able to make something up on the spot. Melina didn't seem to notice my lapse in concentration and she beamed enthusiastically even as she continued to swing her shinai without pause.

"Yes, Sensei!"

I felt bad for deceiving her, but as I would learn, being an instructor didn't necessarily mean I had to be superior or more talented than the student I was teaching. My goal was to impart to them knowledge they didn't possess beforehand, and to answer any questions they might have, doubts that arose during training. Even if I didn't have the answer, I could freely admit it, and then go and find out the answer before telling my student the next day. A teacher didn't have to be perfect – one of the great lessons in life was that no human was perfect. Not unless you were a fictional Mary Sue character created to be flawless. It was only natural that even a teacher had questions that he couldn't answer, and there was no shame in confessing my lack of knowledge, and promising to find the answer.

In other words, it was okay to slip up and lose concentration here and there on the job. Of course, I would strive to be as professional as possible, but professionals weren't superhumans or gods. Even professionals made the occasional mistake. The trick was to minimize the slip-ups and errors on the job. Everyone had to start somewhere. Especially when you were doing your first job for the very first time. So don't be disheartened when you made a mistake.

Though…I could already see readers from beyond the fourth wall literally frothing at the mouth and condemning me over every little mistake I made. I know not all readers did that, but just go through the previous chapters and you would see a lot of inflammatory and caustic insults flung at me from a specific group of readers just because I didn't do what they would have done in my position, as if they knew the situation so much better than I did, or as if they didn't possess the benefit of hindsight and were geniuses who could do no wrong. I honestly didn't understand their complaints. If they wanted perfect, confident and arrogant (or ruthless) protagonists, there were so many stories out there that fitted their mold. Why come here and whine about me being inferior or self-pitying or weak or spineless or pathetic or whatever? It was as if I wasn't allowed to be a flawed human being, and the moment I made one mistake or misjugement, they would raise their pitchforks and burn me at stake.

Whatever, for now I would do my best to train Melina. So after the sword swings, we moved on to basic footwork.

"Dear God, look at the time!"

So caught up in both training and my own thoughts, I didn't realize how late the time had gotten. Before I knew it, over an hour had passed. Melina had kept going, not at all bothered. In fact, she was pretty enthusiastic for more. Damn…it was too bad I didn't want to accompany her forever. I had my own other matters to deal with. While it was admittedly important to revise my basic swordsmanship, in light of my defeat to Charles, I also wanted to develop my ice magic further. I didn't have a lot of time, especially when I still had so many things I wanted to do.

Yeah, the tournament was one thing, but the missions were another. The missions in particular – they were what drew my attention the most. I honestly wanted to participate in a few more missions to gain more combat experience. As I mentioned previously, training alone would not suffice. If I wanted to catch up to prodigies such as Charles, gaining more combat experience was the only other option. That, and working on my ice magic. If I could just improve Absolute Zero, perhaps I could win against him next time.

That was why I was more than happy to dismiss Melina after the lesson was done.

"Sorry…I know we only went through the basics today, but you don't learn swordsmanship overnight. This is just the first step. You'll have to be patient."

"It's all right. I understand." Melina smiled understandingly. "You're doing your best, Sensei. I have no complaints. Everything I read told me that I need to build a solid foundation first before I try and learn more advanced techniques."

"That's correct. That's exactly what my father taught me too."

Melina glanced in the direction of Dad, her expression a little wistful. I somehow sympathized with that expression. Clearly Melina was wishing that her own father would personally teach her swordsmanship. Not just any sword style, but the Franklin school of swordsmanship. The same one her cousin Kureha was wielding.

Having seen her train diligently throughout the entire night, I honestly didn't get the sense that she lacked the talent for swordsmanship or whatever excuse Kureha and the other Franklin family members came up with. All right, she wasn't some unprecedented genius who would take the world by surprise and learn a whole new sword style in a few hours or some xianxia nonsense like that. But she wasn't exactly "untalented" or "incompetent" like how the others made her out to be. If anything, she reminded me of myself, a completely ordinary and average person, a normal but hardworking person who was determined to learn swordsmanship no matter how much time or effort was required.

Honestly, the whole "talent" thing was bullshit. Yes, I admit that there were some people who defied logic and were much more capable of learning something such as swordsmanship at a much faster pace than ordinary people, possessing an intuitive grasp that allowed to prevail over others. The so-called geniuses, who became award-winning professional athletes or master martial artists or gamers. But just because such prodigies existed didn't mean the rest of us ordinary people were supposed to bow down and give up. Upsets had happened before – soccer teams in lower divisions had beaten the defending champions in the FA Cup or some tournament. Rankings were always fluid, and there were many other factors in play.

The most important thing was not to give up. If you gave up, everything was over. It was better to try and accept whatever result came than to give up from the onset and fail for sure.

"Don't worry, you'll definitely get stronger. I promise."

"Ha ha! I know. After all, you're the person who defeated Cousin Kureha. That's why…I want to learn from you!" Melina was clenching her fists resolutely. "One day…I'll become like you, Sensei! And I'll defeat Cousin Kureha too!"

"I look forward to that," I said with a chuckle. Now that would be quite the sight. I definitely wanted to see the horrified shock on Kureha's face when she was bested by someone she had deemed "untalented" or "incompetent." That would serve her right for being arrogant and looking down on others.

"Richie, send that young lady home," Dad instructed. Before Melina could protest, he gave her a firm look. "It's late and it'll be derelict of our duty to allow you to walk home alone at this hour. Not to mention dangerous. You're still young, Melina. Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah, don't worry about it." I patted my student on the shoulder. "I could use the walk anyway."