These people didn't even realize that the girl was the so-called "teacher".
Adela walked forward through the crowd, pushed open the antique-style door made of wood and glass with carvings of flowers, and entered the main hall first. She did not speak to the one-armed girl first, but looked around at the wall with the knife hanging, and walked step by step, searching.
Until Adela's gaze settled on a knife in the corner.
This weapon came from the North, which was a point of careful consideration by the Federation. The North is not a place where sword culture is thriving, but for the sake of the students, they still found a master craftsman from that place to make an unsharpened weapon.
The Northern Broadsword is the name of the weapon.
Adela was pleased with the simple patterns on the blade; she recognized that even the handle was made of wood unique to her hometown.
The students then entered the main hall one after another, looking around. Many eyes fell on September, including Luo Xiaoli.
She whispered to Ke Bing, "Hey, look, she's missing a hand."
"Yeah, I wonder who this girl is. She looks so young, and she's already lost an arm at such a young age."
"It's a bit pitiful."
Ke Bing even felt a pang of pity. She had no idea of Jiu Yue's true identity and thought she was just a student of similar age.
"By the way, where are our teachers?"
"I don't know. Didn't Counselor Wan say the teacher was already waiting for us? Where is he?"
"Maybe they haven't arrived yet?"
Not seeing the teacher for the new course for a while, these people became increasingly relaxed, jumping around in the main hall, touching the cold blade with their hands, clicking their tongues in amazement, and looking very curious.
A few minutes later, September finished her meditation and stood up.
Because she looked so much like an innocent little girl, and was petite with nothing particularly special about her, the students didn't pay any attention to her.
September didn't speak, but instead raised her head and selected from the dazzling array of knives.
She walked quietly, wearing a pair of white socks.
The socks were very transparent and thin. When she put her feet down on the wooden floor with a little force, you could see her plump toes pressed against the toes of the socks, and below her fair toes was a pink sole that looked like a kitten's paw pads.
September's gaze fell upon the replica of the demon sword Murasame.
Unfortunately, given her height, it would be difficult for her to reach it.
At this moment, Zhao Xuerou noticed this side, turned her head, and looked for the one-armed girl who had just been sitting but could not find her. Her eyes searched around and just happened to find her on the side, who was about to stand on tiptoe to take off the demon sword.
It seemed that the girl with the missing arm, who was only about 1.5 meters tall, couldn't reach it at all. Even she herself would have to stand on tiptoe and jump to get it. "Why don't I help her?" Zhao Xuerou thought to herself.
Then, just as she was about to walk over, she froze on the spot, her eyes wide open.
Because the one-armed girl only needed to leap lightly to reach the spot where she was taking off her sword. She took off the unsharpened demon sword and landed lightly on the ground.
As agile as a cat.
And it didn't make a sound at all!
It was as if she really had fleshy pads under her feet.
Zhao Xuerou suddenly realized something was wrong. She grabbed Ke Bing and pointed, "No... something's not right."
"Huh? Something's not right?"
Inside the main hall.
The lights above are on because of the weather.
The students were quite relaxed, gathering in twos and threes, pointing and commenting on the novel cold weapons they hadn't seen before on the wall.
Near the wall, September, holding the demon sword, had a hint of satisfaction on her face.
She felt the weight of the weapon; the craftsmanship on the blade was near perfect, the patterns indistinguishable from the one in the museum. Although unsharpened, it already possessed an exquisite quality, gleaming with a cold, metallic blue hue under the light.
A person who spends all his days with a knife, even sleeping with his weapon, will never forget how to wield it until his death.
September held her breath and gripped Murasame with one hand. You could see the tip of the knife gradually change from a slight trembling to a steady state, and finally become completely still, as if it were fixed in place. Her hand was like an iron clamp, and no matter what state it was in, it could not disturb her movements.
She slowly slashed the knife upwards, her movements extremely slow, drawing a perfect semicircle, the tip pointing directly to the sky, before falling. The speed gradually increased, as if propelled by inertia, but just before reaching her chest, it abruptly stopped, neither falling an inch nor rising an inch.
Don't think this is an easy thing to do. The weight of a Japanese steel sword makes it difficult for an adult male to stop easily without training, as there will be inertia when chopping down.
In September, she flicked her wrist, and the tip of the demon sword swung out in an extremely beautiful sword flower. With a little force, the entire blade turned from her chest position, flew close to her smooth chin, and flew into the sky, making an exquisite circle before leaving her palm, only to be caught steadily by her.
Pick out the thorns, cleave downwards, split inwards, rotate, gouge downwards.
Each standard, textbook-perfect movement flowed smoothly from September's hands, forming a complete set of sword techniques.
When it is swift, it is like an unintentional thunderbolt; when it is tranquil, it is like spring water in March; when it needs to be delicate, it is like threading a needle; when it needs to be rough, it is like a sandstorm hitting your face.
Swinging the sword is like riding the wind, flicking the sword is like a feather flying backward.
September seemed to be performing a stunning dance, its toes nimbly turning on the floor, slicing through the shimmering light of the lamplight, causing even the surrounding atmosphere to suddenly become chaotic.
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