Nihil gave the technique an impressive name before explaining why I would be bad at it.
"Phantom Blade. Seven Severing Cuts."
I looked at the two uneven lines I had drawn on the paper.
"I'm already five cuts behind the title and one behind the diagram."
"You are seven behind the title. Those are lines."
The sword rested on its stand beside my bed. My left fingers touched the hilt. Outside, somebody was trying to persuade a stuck window to close by hitting it harder each time.
I understood the impulse.
Nihil had begun with a single stroke and asked where its force went. Along the edge. Into the target. Lost through a poor angle, a slipping grip, resistance I couldn't overcome.
Then it asked what happened if the same fixed output approached from different directions.
"It becomes weaker in each direction," I said.
"Good. Keep that answer. You will want to forget it."
