On a day as still and unassuming as any other, a lone figure was training his sword. The man, garbed in simple but well-worn training attire, was immersed in his sword practice. He gripped the hilt of his katana and slid the sword into its sheath, the motion smooth and deliberate, the weapon fitting snugly into place with a soft click.
Then, without hesitation, his hand moved with practiced precision, drawing the blade in a single, swift motion. His arm moved in a perfect arc, a diagonal cut that was at once fluid, lightning-fast.
The man was training in the art of sword drawing, his eyes closed in deep concentration. With each fluid movement, his body seemed to become one with the weapon in his hands. As his sword slid from the sheath in a swift, practiced motion, his breath followed the rhythm of his movements—slow and deliberate, in perfect harmony with the arc of his blade.
"A little bit faster this time"
