The sword was finished over the next few days.
It was not beautiful. It was not famous. But it was mine.
A simple metal blade with a straight line, moderate length, and a practical grip. The darts were small, sharp, and balanced fior control rather than killing force. I kept the number low, because I did not want waste. I wanted accuracy.
That evening, I stood in the open area beside my house and held the sword with both hands. Then I breathed. The old fioundation sword style my father had left behind surfaced in my mind. The steps. The cuts. The guard. The discipline.
But now I had something else too. The breathing pattern I had studied from another world.
Total Concentration Breathing.
And because this world already carried soul power through the body, my progress was faster than I had expected. The body adapted more quickly.
The breath became more stable. My focus grew sharper every day. I moved once.
A forward cut.
Then again.
I let the breath lead the body instead ofi the body forcing the breath. At some point, the old and the new began to merge.
Father's sword style.
My breathing.
The wind in the air.
A new sword path took shape.
Gale Flow Sword.
I whispered the name and began the forms one by one.
First Form: Swift Gale Slash.
A fast forward slash.
Clean. Direct. A faint wind trail followed the blade.
Second Form: Rising Wind.
An upward slash that carried the air with it, making the attack useful fior deflection as well as offense.
Third Form: Falling Tempest.
A downward strike powered by full body movement and breath release. Heavy impact. Strong pressure.
Fourth Form: Wind Step.
Light footwork timed to breathing. Sudden bursts ofi speed. A movement form as much as an attack form.
Fifth Form: Twin Gale.
Two rapid slashes in one breath cycle. Hard to defend against. Good fior opening a gap.
Sixth Form: Rotating Storm.
A spinning slash that created a circular pressure zone around the body.
I stopped after the sixth form and exhaled slowly.
Sweat slid down my neck. My arms were tired. But the style felt alive.
Not perfect. Not complete.
But real.
This was no longer just the sword style my father taught me.
It had become something new.
Total Concentration, Constant State
The biggest change did not happen in my sword hand.
It happened in my breathing.
At first, Total Concentration Breathing had only been a training tool. Something I used during practice, meditation, and repetition drills.
Then I noticed it during daily life. Walking to class. Reading in the library.
Even standing still in the market.
The breath had become steady enough to stay in the background.
I could keep it going longer. Hold it calmer.
Use it without strain.
That was when I realized I had reached the edge ofi mastery.
Total Concentration Constant. Not fior battle alone.
For every moment.
The benefits became clear almost immediately.
My control over body increase My recovery after training improved. My spirit power circulation became smoother. My reaction speed sharpened. My senses felt clearer.
Even my control over the metal firagment improved.
When I summoned my martial soul, it no longer trembled like befiore.
Clink…
The firagment appeared above my palm. This time it floated steadily, silent and obedient.
I held it there. One breath. Two breaths.
Three.
Still stable. Wind sensitivity also increased.
Whenever I stood in an open area, or when the wind moved through the forest edge, I could fieel it more clearly than befiore. It was faint, but it was
there.
That was enough. The training was working.