I gripped the staff tightly and took a deep breath.
The vision of the woman was still fresh in my mind, the way she moved, her precision, her power. She had made it look effortless, but I knew better.
I took my stance, feet firmly planted, and raised the staff.
The first step was simple: control. She had never wasted movement, never hesitated. Every motion had a purpose. If I wanted to reach her level, I had to start from the very beginning.
I swung the staff forward in a basic strike. It cut through the air cleanly, but something felt off.
'Too stiff. Too forced.'
I adjusted my grip and tried again. This time, I focused on keeping my motion smooth. The staff whistled slightly as it passed through the air.
'Better.'
I planted my foot and swept the staff to the side in a wide arc. Then, a forward thrust—sharp and controlled.
