“This is how you hold a sword.”
The third-rate mercenary in the village where Enkrid was born didn't even know how to properly hold a sword. That was what he learned from the first instructor he met. How to press his thumb against the blade.
How to place his right hand forward and his left hand back on the grip. The way to hold the pommel, even how to use the ricasso. He usually held the sword with two hands, but…
‘With just one hand.’
It seemed possible. His already considerable strength had grown even greater through the Technique of Isolation. He gripped the longsword with only his left hand and swung.
Whoosh.
The casually swung sword drew an arc. He wasn't pleased with it. But it was possible.
Again, thrust, cut, thrust and cut. He cut diagonally, then horizontally. He even mimicked the motions of binding swords.
He pictured an opponent in his mind, but against Rem or his squad members, it seemed he wouldn't last a single exchange. The problem wasn't one-handed swordsmanship, but his unfamiliar left hand. He changed his opponent.
A faceless figure, but one who could handle a sword reasonably well. As he imagined, an opponent similar to his past self appeared. Then, some trash from his mercenary days, whose skill was inversely proportional to his character, also emerged.