Ghostblade.
The Ghostblade's left hand was severely mutated due to a condition known as the " Ghost Hand ".
His hand, which had been corroded by the ghostly aura and had become black and uncontrollable, could not bear the weight of a sword or a shield. In order to suppress the ghostly aura, he had even tied his arm with an iron chain.
The arm that was difficult to move naturally could not use those various sword techniques.
Ghostblades were a group of people who had no affinity with swordsmanship.
Lying on the small island in the middle of the lake, Sean seemed to be immersed in a memory that he didn't even know about.
It was as if a movie was playing in front of Sean.
Apart from experiencing it, Shawn watched.
There was nothing else he could do.
Due to the existence of Ghosthand, he had many inconveniences in his memories.
With his arms locked, he couldn't even lift a bucket or cut vegetables with a knife.
Not to mention the meticulous movements of writing.
However, Shaun was a swordsman.
He couldn't control his arms?
No, that was because his willpower was not firm enough.
This was his arm, the body he used to perform his swordsmanship, and the foundation for him to complete his vision of becoming a swordsman.
Even if it was ghosts and gods, even if it was fate.
He also wanted to fight with them.
The chains on his arms tightened even more.
Shawn picked up his sword again and practiced his swordsmanship.
The sword hilt suddenly slipped out of his hand? Then he would pick it up again.
The sword edge was out of control, so he suppressed the restless arm and continued to slash.
Until he was satisfied with the sword style.
The heat of summer, the loneliness of autumn, and the cold wind of winter.
Compared to this ghostly hand, what was it?
Endurance, suppression, control, control...
It was as if a very long time had passed for Shay. He was like a machine, repeating the same actions.
In his life, there was only a monotonous life.
Traces of a struggle with fate.
...
...
There were such people.
Whether it was a weak heart or a missing leg, they would not yield under any conditions. They would march forward bravely and advance towards their specific goals.
Similarly, there were also some people who would not yield to fate even if the hand holding the weapon became distorted. Instead, they would work harder to refine the weapon.
Some of them had reached the limit of their respective weapon fields, and people called these Ghostblades " Sword Spirits."
In the resistance that was tempered thousands of times, it was like a day.
Swordsmanship had become an instinct for Shawn.
Even Netherclaw's uneasiness couldn't suppress this instinct.
It was just like how no matter how twisted an arm was, it would not break by itself.
In the end, Sean's memory was fixed on the warm spring.
The moment he left the village with his sword.
Even though Ghosthand's curse would always follow him like a shadow.
Even though Netherclaw's unease would only increase with time.
However, in front of this firm will.
Everything would be shattered.
...
...
"Sword Soul…"
Shawn, who was lying flat, opened his eyes.
His eyes could not help but reveal some admiration.
It was the method of snatching back an arm that had been taken away by a ghost.
Without a doubt, even if he broke his leg, he would still have to walk across the entire continent.
At the same time, the absorption of this memory and experience.
It also made Shawn's will firmer.
Although it wasn't a skill, it was an obvious improvement in equipment.
However, it was obviously more important for Sean's improvement.
This was an improvement in his mental state.
It was equivalent to…
Sean had an extra memory, this memory.
When Sean needed to be determined, it would appear in his mind.
This was undoubtedly what Sean needed more.
What was a powerhouse?
Was strength the strongest?
No.
Even if he was powerful, he was cowardly, liked to run away, and was full of lies.
In that case, he only had the title of an expert.
Sean still looked down on such people.
There were different types of true experts.
However, there was one thing they had in common.
That was the will of the strong.
Regardless of whether the strong were righteous or evil.
Both of them had this kind of steel-like will.
An important manifestation of willpower was whether one could defeat oneself.
When he woke up, could he defeat his lazy self? When he was tired, could he defeat his lazy self?
When he decided to do something, he would press forward.
He wouldn't be swayed by his own heart, which was scared away by difficulties.
...
...
This was what Sean lacked.
Before this, Shaun had great strength.
However, it was only because he was powerful. His heart was not much different from an ordinary person's.
But now, he was a little more determined.
Of course, it was just a little.
After all, this experience didn't change Sean's personality.
He didn't expect the sign-in reward to have such a thing.
What a pleasant surprise.
Sean was quite satisfied with today's reward.
"But it took so much time.”
To Shayne, absorbing this memory only took a moment.
However, it had been several hours in reality.
"It's past mealtime. I hope I won't be nagged.”
Shawn got up and walked towards his home.
"Giggle-"
Not far away, the sound of a carriage bumping could be heard.
The direction they were heading in was the same as the direction that Sean was heading home.
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