Swordsmanship Teacher

“Sire, why not give it a try? I’m no expert—but can serve as your sword instructor.”
Sword instructor?

Alice raised an eyebrow—so Black’s audacity grew by the day.

She stared at him—the rare seriousness and confidence in his eyes made her temporarily suppress her instinctive resistance to the term “sword instructor”.

She truly craved strength—and this seemingly carefree guard had indeed used swordsmanship to counter-kill powerful Seth.

“Fine.”

Following Black’s description—Alice slowly closed her eyes—trying to sense the flow of spirit energy within her body—and imagine herself as a sharp blade.

Yet—years of habit couldn’t change overnight.

Her posture still carried the rigid traces of the royal sword manual—spirit energy circulation obscure, hard to transmit along new paths.

Seeing this—Black knew words weren’t enough.

After slight hesitation—he stepped forward: “Sire—forgive me.”

He reached out—gently holding Alice’s wrist gripping the sword.

At the touch—both froze.

Alice’s wrist was slender yet strong—carrying the subtle toughness of a swordsman.
Black’s fingertips were slightly rough.

A subtle electric current seemed to spread from the contact point—Alice’s long lashes flickered imperceptibly—but she didn’t open her eyes or scold.

Black steadied himself—cleared his mind—began adjusting her movements.

His other hand hovered near her elbow—guiding it to a more force-efficient angle.

“Here—elbow lower by three points.”

His voice was close—his breath almost brushing Alice’s ear.

Her body instinctively tensed—but forced herself to relax—following his guidance.

Then—Black’s hand gently pressed on her shoulder blade—feeling her muscle state.

“Relax your shoulders—they’re just a channel.”

The touch was polite, restrained—only for necessary posture correction.

That warm palm made Alice feel slightly hot where touched.

The most awkward part came next.

To correct her body rotation issue—Black had to stand behind her side—almost half-encircling her.

His arms passed around Alice—palms lightly touching the corset at her waist—guiding her to feel the starting point of core power.

“Power starts here.”

His voice was low—right behind her ear.

“Imagine spirit energy rising from your feet—twisting through here—transmitting to shoulder and arm…”

Their bodies pressed close.

Black could smell the cold fragrance in her hair—feel her body’s subtle tremors.

Alice could feel the male warmth radiating from behind.

An unprecedented intimacy silently spread in the quiet training ground—air seeming thicker.

Alice’s ear tips faintly reddened—lips tightly pressed—as she fully focused on the power flow guided by Black.

“Try slashing once—remember this feeling—whole body as one—sword as extension.”

Black stepped back half a step—giving her space—eyes locked on her movements.

Alice took a deep breath—cleared the strange thoughts in her heart.

Recalling Black’s guided sequence: push off ground, rotate hips, extend shoulder, swing arm…

Imagining herself as a blade about to be drawn—spirit energy no longer blindly surging to the blade—but orderly infusing, filling, transmitting to every joint and muscle involved in power generation.

She suddenly opened her eyes—crimson pupils flashing—her longsword slashed down!

Shhh!

A far more condensed, sharp sword qi tore through air—precisely striking the training dummy.

Boom! A dull thud—the sword mark on the dummy nearly doubled in depth!

And spirit energy dispersion greatly reduced—most power solidly impacting the target.

“This!”

Alice looked at her hand—then at the deep mark—incredulous.

Her cold face rarely showed astonishment and undeniable joy.

This strike’s power far exceeded her usual practice level!

She instinctively turned to Black—eyes shining brightly—like a child discovering a new continent.

“I did it? I really—”

Joy made her forget her usual dignity—for a moment.

But remembering the too-close guidance—cheeks warmed—she quickly regained composure.

Back to her cold, elegant self—though joy lingered in her eyes.

“Sire is naturally gifted—understands instantly.”

Black smiled, praising.

When Alice smiled—she was brightly beautiful—so stunning he nearly suffocated.

So different from her usual icy demeanor.

If this princess smiled more… he thought sincerely.

“Why not try again—reinforce the feeling.”

Alice nodded—suppressing inner fluctuations—focused again—recalling that perfect sensation—trying to reproduce that flawless strike.

Yet—that mysterious state seemed hard to capture.

Later attempts—either too deliberate, making movements stiff.
Or subconsciously returning to old patterns.

The sword qi was slightly stronger than initially—but far less impressive—spirit energy clearly overflowing again.

Alice frowned—looking at the shallower marks—eyes flashing with frustration.

“Don’t be discouraged, Sire.”

Black spoke timely—voice calm.

“You succeeded once—proving this path works. Just needs more practice.”

He paused—watching Alice’s thoughtful profile—added:

“With diligent practice—you’ll master it. Your swordsmanship will leap forward.”

Alice fell silent—slowly exhaled—tightened her grip on the crimson sword.

She looked at Black—complex eyes—finally forming one simple word:

“…Thank you.”

Rare—a genuine “thank you” from her.

Black marveled.

“By the way—Sire called me so early—is there something?”

Could it be another sparring session?

Without Flow State—he was just a Level 10 Swordsman.
No matter how skilled—against someone 10 levels higher—he’d be useless.

Hearing this—Alice sheathed her sword—glanced at the Imperial Winged Dragon on his shoulder.

After long hesitation—she finally said:

“I want to ask—how did you tame the Imperial Winged Dragon?”