A Sword, a Secret, and a Little Money
The sound of a woman heaving heavily as she swung a sword echoed throughout the cave.
Steel cut through the stale air with a sharp whistle.
Again.
And again.
The sound reverberated against the rough stone walls, mixing with the heavy rhythm of Evelyne's breathing. Sweat had soaked through parts of her clothing, and strands of her long black-green hair clung to her cheeks and neck. Her arms trembled slightly with every movement, but she refused to lower the sword.
It had been two days since Victor had started training Evelyne.
Two days.
That was all.
Yet the changes in her were already obvious.
Her posture had improved. Her movements were becoming cleaner. More importantly, she had begun to understand what Victor had been trying to teach her.
It wasn't some magnificent sword technique.
There were no dazzling Battle Arts.
No overwhelming Spiritual Essence.
No complicated movements that required years of cultivation.
