[UNREVISED]
Kaiser trained by swinging the heavy greatsword again and again.
Thud—
WHOOSH—
THUD!
Each of his swings sent a dull noise through the straw dummy, the force behind every hit enough to rattle the wooden post it was mounted on.
The blade he was using wasn't his own— it was heavier, much heavier. He chose it for a reason. In his mind, if he trained with something heavier than what he normally used, his real weapon would feel light in comparison, easier to handle, faster, more fluid.
Simple logic.
TWHACK!
Shff—
He slashed horizontally, then stepped in and followed up with a vertical strike, trying to maintain the flow of movement. Sweat rolled down his face and dripped from his chin, but Kaiser ignored it.
His muscles ached. His shoulders burned. His hands were starting to blister from the constant friction— but again, he ignored it.
Kaiser had trained like this before. He was used to the pain.
