Armpits
Kouhei swung his wooden sword with all his strength, the impact resounding with a dull thud as it struck the training dummy. But instead of slicing through, the sword just ricocheted off the hay surface, leaving him with stinging hands and mounting frustration.
"Your posture is off, Okumura-sama," Aria's smooth voice cut through his growing irritation, her tone calm but carrying an edge of critique.
After hours of basic practice the day before, today was supposed to be about fine-tuning. Posture, stance, and precision were the focus, but Kouhei's body ached from the repeated failures. The dummy stood unyielding, as if laughing at his futile attempts. He was supposed to cut through it completely, but using a blunt wooden sword? It felt impossible.