A Dangerous Yet Alluring Operation
"It's risky, but a remarkably alluring plan."
"Indeed. But if we're spotted before we even launch the attack, the enemy could push right back in."
Minister Rosen had pinpointed what might be the operation's biggest risk.
"In that case, we'd end up in the same mess we inflicted on them when we retook Rimir Castle."
"Intelligence Command will scout the routes in advance to minimize the chance of failure."
Bust turned to look at Commander Kalun.
"Yes. Once the operation is greenlit, Intelligence Command stands ready to pour every resource into supporting it."
"The enemy must have patrols along the coast, schedules and routes. Any chance we can snag that intel?"
The emperor's question left Kalun with a troubled expression as he bowed his head.
"We'll do our best."
"No, don't push it if it's too tough. You'd just arouse suspicion if you get caught trying."
"Understood."
Realizing it was an unreasonable order, the emperor backed off, and Kalun let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"Flesh it out for now. We can always scrap it before moving any troops."
"Yes, Your Majesty!!"
And so began the full preparations for the amphibious landing—a gamble that could swing either way.
Slash!
"There! How's that?! Nailed it, right?!"
I proudly thrust the cleanly severed straw dummy's cross-section toward Hamus.
"Hm... Well, sure."
He looked less than thrilled.
Whatever. As long as it passes.
"I busted my ass for three months straight on this. Thought I was gonna die."
"Three months..."
"Something wrong?"
"N-no... It's a pass, but it's not perfect. Keep practicing steadily."
Hamus picked up the wooden sword from the floor as he spoke.
This is good enough. What more practice?
Any more precise, and it'd be inhuman.
"What did you learn while working on the task I gave you? Speak."
"How to use power."
"Hm. Figured it out on your own?"
"A senior showed me."
"You need to realize and master it yourself. Tsk tsk."
What's with this boomer?
He was no different from those "stay out of academies, learn only at school" types.
I'm no genius, okay?
If this guy actually taught properly, maybe. But with his half-assed lessons, how's anyone supposed to grow without tutoring?
"Sure, next time."
I spat the lie to move things along.
"Fixing bad habits from poor learning takes years. Listening half-heartedly to words from on high like me, when you know nothing?! Argh, as if I'd teach trash like this."
He pounded his chest in frustration.
Well, not entirely wrong.
But I had my grievances too.
"Then teach in more detail. Or show a demo once and call it? How am I supposed to learn?"
"Talking back to your master? Think I skimped 'cause I was lazy?"
Wasn't it?
"True growth means following the faint light and paving your own path. That's how it becomes yours. Can't even grasp that truth, yet you wanna master the sword? Tch."
He clucked his tongue pityingly, but my mind fixated on one thought.
This guy's a total boomer.
Beyond my wildest imagination.
Even the old timers at the senior center would fold against this.
Died in his thirties, yet ended up like this?
Is boomerism shaped by the era you lived through, not the years?
I'd thought it came with age. Time to rethink.
"I see. Learning something huge here."
How do you handle a boomer?
Just nod and agree.
"Watch yourself next time."
"Yes, I will. So, swordsmanship lessons start today?"
"Yeah, a promise is a promise."
Hamus stepped back, wooden sword raised.
"To master swordsmanship perfectly, grasp and pursue its ultimate goal. What is the ultimate goal of Hamus swordsmanship?"
"Ultimate goal? Hm."
I recalled what Lieutenant Alpen had said long ago.
During the swordsmanship overhaul, it was the foundational base, right?
That's why history matters.
"Redefining swordsmanship?"
"What? 'Redefining'? Nonsense."
"Isn't it the foundation laid during the swordsmanship redefinition?"
"Tsk tsk. Listen up. This sword art was made for women who lost husbands in war."
Fuck, what?
"I saw those women trembling in fear after losing their men, so I extended a saving hand."
Hamus beamed with pride.
My heart wasn't at ease.
So the 'redefinition' everyone's learning is just a style to impress women?
Now I wondered how much of Hamus's history was even true.
"Did any women master this tough style properly?"
"Insulting women now?"
I frantically shook my head at his quick dive to outrage.
"No, I mean, they'd never held a sword in their lives."
"Few mastered it perfectly, sure. But even one or two moves make it viable in emergencies. Designed that way. Didn't you feel it?"
"Ah... yes, I did."
The style's moves were precisely segmented.
Thought it built the foundational frame.
Turns out, just learn one and use it.
"There was this one, Somwol. Outstanding. Self-taught perfection in half a year."
"Half a year? Solo?"
Solo in six months? Pure genius territory.
"Yeah. If things stabilized, I considered her my sole disciple, but I died before that."
"That's... hang in there."
"Water under the bridge. Point is, it's so simple even solo learners hit mastery in half a year. Learn quick and get lost."
"Ah... yes."
Odd conclusion, but I agreed.
Another ten minutes wasted on bullshit.
Zero affection for this guy.
"Continuing: Women lack stamina to fight burly men long."
"Yes."
"Hence, the core is one precise, swift strike exploiting a gap."
That explained why Hamus swordsmanship was deemed so aggressive.
"But your thrust lacks lethality, your slash cutting power. Just mimicking poorly."
Whoosh!!
Hamus swung diagonally; wind stirred nearby objects.
How strong is this guy?
Obviously not full power, impossible to gauge.
"Swordsmanship guards me and ultimately kills foes. Stay true to that—your style's endgame."
Kill the enemy.
In training, I'd chased scores and polish, skimping real combat mindset.
"How to train from now?"
"Not pointless reps—gain real experience. Draw your sword. I'll teach personally."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Sudden sparring from Hamus.
Obvious golden chance—no hesitation, I assumed stance.
"Defend and attack using only style moves when I strike. Fight to kill me."
"Got it!"
Planned that anyway.
"Let's see."
Hamus lunged sword raised.
Stance says thrust.
Deflect on timing.
Clang!
His sword halted; clear ring echoed.
As I prepped for the next defense—
Snap!
A forehead flick too fast to track.
"Ow!"
Dizzying pain like brain-rattled.
A bit harder, I'd be out.
"Why the flick?!"
"Block then counter! You gonna block all day?!"
"Uh...? Oh."
Finally saw my mistake.
Scared, just blocking.
Overpowered foe mindset made me passive.
"Why flick though."
"Snap out of it. Focus."
"Got it. Concentrating."
Stay, risk another; I backed off, reset.
But flicks didn't end.
"Who attacks like that! Suicidal?!"
Snap!
"Who moves like that?!"
Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap!
Endless barrage.
Flick hell till five minutes before our two-hour session ended.
"Too tedious to keep at it. Grab someone decent—two levels above you—for spars."
Didn't you just say no outside help?
Can't track his tune.
"Ah... yes, sir."
Priority: no more flicks.
"Next booking, hm..."
Hamus glanced up, pondering, then spoke.
"Right. That score test thing. You know it? Hit ninety."
"Uh...? You said it's useless."
"Think it's truly useless? Can't follow simple words? Anyway, ninety-plus."
"But... understood."
Much to say, but swallowed it.