Chapter 5: Ivan: Wrong.

I used to be a knight before I became a lumberjack. I joined the military very young, and for personal reasons, I had to leave.

It’s been a long time since I last trained with a sword, but the movements ingrained in my mind became muscle memory. I trained a lot in this life and fought many opponents in many battles. And as I looked at my son swinging the sword, I realized... he was terrible — the worst person I’ve ever seen wielding a blade.

Everything was wrong. Applied force... wrong. Posture... wrong. Movement... wrong.

Maybe I expected more from him, but considering he only trained with an old axe, I had to cut him some slack.

“Son...” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you’re doing everything wrong.”

It was sad to see his excited smile turn into a face of sorrow and confusion. But the truth needed to be told.

“Your stance, body movement, and force are all wrong. Watch this.”I took the sword from his hand and repeated the same stance and motion he had just made. Even rusty, I executed a perfect vertical slash — you could even see the snowflakes parting from the pressure in the air.Should I go back to the field?

“Wow...” I heard Samo whisper. “How did you do that?” he asked.

Doubt leads to knowledge, knowledge leads to practice, and practice leads to improvement.

I handed the sword back to him and, with a stick, began to teach him what he was doing wrong.

Several days of instruction followed... but something was off.

He wasn’t improving at all.

But one thing is certain — his strength is not of this world. I’ve always seen him carrying heavy things, even at just fifteen years old — things that not even I, a former lumberjack, could lift.

“Let’s see what’s wrong this time. Take the offensive stance,” I told him.

“Alright,” he nodded, bringing the sword forward.

“Wrong stance...”

Slap

I struck his back with a piece of wood. As expected, he straightened his spine without reacting. His posture was finally correct.

I was being stricter with him than before, since he had agreed to undergo military training.

“Now deliver the strike.” At that moment, Samo raised his arms vertically and struck downward.

At last, his strike was perfect.

“That’s it!” I cheered, thrilled to see a sign of progress in him. “Remember that movement.”

Samo beamed with a wide smile, panting with exhaustion.

“Thank you... huff... huff... Father.”

I was happy with Samo’s improvement — but I had also realized what I had been doing wrong from the very beginning.