Existence in Paradoxical Changes

Chapter Eight: The Heart of Ease while Tribulation Awaits

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the once chaotic battlefield that had now settled into a temporary calm. The remnants of the skirmish—a twisted mass of broken swords, discarded shields, and weary souls—offered the trio a moment to breathe. Jared, Jeanne, and Anne stepped gingerly through the debris, the distant sounds of their village returning to life blending softly with the cool evening breeze.

"Is it always this messy?" Anne muttered, wrinkling her nose in distaste, glancing at a dented helmet that lay half-buried in the dirt.

Jared surveyed the area, their recent victories not yet sinking in. "Chaos can birth beauty, as strange as that sounds. But yes, it's often messy," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood even as residual tension lingered in the air.

It wasn't just the sight of the battlefield that weighed heavily on Jared's mind; it was the thoughts of what had transpired and what was yet to come. The thought of the jeopardized fate of the villagers sharpened his focus, urging him to seek out opportunities to help and to grow stronger in their endeavor.

As they sorted through remnants for anything of value, the Jian sword at Jared's waist seemed to beckon Jeanne's attention like a moth to a flame. She approached with an eager expression, her tan skin glistening in the fading sunlight. "That sword of yours—how is it so light yet looks so... formidable?" she asked, her curiosity palpable.

Jared grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at being able to share knowledge. "This Jian is a traditional Chinese sword, renowned for its versatility and balance. Its design allows for fluid movement in combat," he explained, lifting the sword from his waist to demonstrate its sharp lines and graceful curves. "It's made from high-quality steel, crafted to endure rigorous conditions while looking deceptively fragile."

"But why would one choose such a delicate-looking weapon?" Jeanne pressed, an earnest sparkle in her eyes as she listened intently, a stark contrast to the chaotic remnants around them.

"Because," Jared continued, "true strength lies in technique more than in brute force. A skilled swordsman can wield this sword to deflect strikes and land precise blows. Being a proper swordsman isn't just about heft; it's about finesse and adaptability." He could see that his words ignited admiration in her gaze.

"I want to learn! Teach me!" she urged, her enthusiasm glowing brighter than the setting sun. "I've seen warriors wield swords like theirs since I was a child, but I've never had proper training."

"Of course," Jared replied, motivational determination surging through him. "I can help you with that, but it'll take time. We'll start with the basics." He could hardly suppress the pride swelling in him to know that he could guide someone this vibrant and determined.

Meanwhile, Anne bustled next to them, her hands moving in a graceful dance as she prepared a small fire, sending a fragrant plume of smoke into the air. The smell of charred wood mingled with hints of wild herbs, stimulating their senses and triggering an anticipation that matched their enthusiasm for the lesson.

Jared chuckled at her enthusiasm. "It's almost like you knew we'd need a banquet before our swordfight. You're a wonder, Anne!"

"Just doing my duty, keeping you two strong!" she replied, a playful smile illuminating her snow-white skin.

Once the food was set to cook, Jared turned back to Jeanne. "Listen closely. The first thing you need to understand about the sword is how to hold it properly. Your grip determines your control. Like this," he demonstrated, fingers wrapping firmly around the hilt, wrist straight but flexible, ready for action. "And remember, your body is an extension of your arm. Move as one fluid entity."