Abnet's voice echoed in the training room.
"Again."
Lucian shifted uneasily, his right hand tightening on one sword's hilt and his left on the other. Both blades felt foreign in dual stance.
Abnet sighed, then stepped forward with this own staff held steady.
"A staff relies on both hands. Not one commanding the other. You move like a swordsman—rigid and one-sided."
Lucian wiped sweat from his chin. "So what should I do?"
"Unlearn."
Abnet raised both swords, blades down. "Swordsmanship, especially one-handed, builds precision through the wrist. But a staff is body work. It flows from the shoulders and hips. Your wrists guide, they don't rule."
He lunged. Lucian blocked, barely. Abnet pivoted, both blades spinning in mirrored arcs.
"You see? Reverse grip keeps your elbows in. Same motion a staff demands. Try to match it."
Lucian struck forward. His left hand lagged behind. The counter came fast—metal pressed under his chin.
