Reincarnation Of A Swordsman: The Omni Mage

Chapter 107: Origin of Martial Arts

Kyle sat on a chair, before the desk he had dragged from his room outside. His fingers rested on the cover of the book Dan had given him, Martial Arts: Fundamentals.

He had come outside so as to enjoy the cool morning sun as he read... and also to avoid Void for a while.

Kyle couldn't help but smile wryly as he remembered what had happened earlier in the morning.

Kyle had once again attempted tobcreatr the core, but sadly, he was greeted with the same result as last night—failure.

Before that, Void had asked him how the night went and why he didn't form the core yet; and Kyle, not wanting to lose face had lied, saying that he slept off after failing his first try.

He had reassured Void that it wasn't a problem, he'll form the core later. But Void didn't take his words lightly and had forced him to create the core that instant.

That had not ended up well for Kyle as Void's sharp tongue was used to humiliate him further, adding salt to his wound.

Now, with the morning stretching before and nothing to distract him, Kyle decided to delve into the book.

Perhaps learning the basics of martial arts could offer him some respite from the frustration building up in him.

With a deep breath, he flipped open the heavy book that rested on his lap. Martial Arts: Fundamentals by Marcus Fent. The cover alone carried an air of authority, promising answers that Kyle was eager to uncover.

Kyle traced the bold, blocky letters on the cover with his fingertips before whispering,

"Martial Arts: Fundamentals by Marcus Fent."

On opening the first page, he was greeted with the usual notification from the system.

[Would you like to learn the book, 'Martial Arts: Fundamentals' for 10 Skill points!]

[Yes] [No]

Kyle sighed and quickly took off the notification. He didn't have any skill points to patronize the system.

"I guess I can only rely on myself to do this," Kyle muttered as he began reading.

The book began with an introduction, detailing the history and essence of martial arts as a practice that had empowered those without magic—duds, as they were referred to—protect themselves and stand tall against their magically gifted counterparts.

'So this is where it started,' Kyle thought. His eyes moved across the words, absorbing the tale of those who, decades ago, had faced a world dominated by elemental mages.

Without the innate ability to wield mana, they had seemed destined to fall prey to forces beyond their control.

"Out of desperation was born the first art of resistance," the book declared. Kyle's eyebrows lifted slightly as he read on.

The early practitioners had not been warriors by nature. They were farmers, blacksmiths, scholars—people who had no choice but to fight or perish.

They gathered together and began trying to learn. They began practicing movements that mimicked the beasts they feared, studying the flow of the wind, the shifting of the earth beneath their feet, the roaring surge of water.

'So, necessity birthed it all,' Kyle thought, the realization sinking in. He ran his fingers across the printed words, pausing to absorb what it meant.

Martial arts, in its infancy, had not been about glory or power. It was all about survival. Surviving in a world that constantly tried to crush those without mana.

Kyle sat back, feeling the weight of that revelation. These words were more than just history—they were a testament to the strength of the human spirit.

"They fought without magic, facing creatures that could tear them apart in an instant," he said aloud, as if trying to make sense of it. "And they won."

How could fists and feet alone overcome the raw force of mana or the natural weapons of a beast? Kyle shook his head, finding the idea hard to grasp. But the book seemed to anticipate his doubt:

What they lacked in mana, they made up for in mastery of their own bodies. They understood the value of movement, of using every ounce of strength and energy in precise, powerful bursts. They learned to become more than what they were—to transform limitations into weapons.

The book moved into the philosophical roots behind martial arts, explaining that it was more than just an answer to violence.

"To those early practitioners, the art was sacred. It was a reflection of their resilience, a statement that they would not bow to fear."

Kyle's fingers tightened on the edge of the page. 'Sacred,' he thought, the word resonating in him. He'd always seen fighting as a means to an end—a way to win, to defend, to survive.

But the early chapters of the book spoke of something deeper. They spoke of discipline, of understanding one's self as intimately as one would a weapon.

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"Is that where I've gone wrong?" Kyle asked aloud, the quietness of the clearing absorbing his voice. Had he always approached combat as just a tool, a brute-force method?

The early martial artists seemed to see it as a language—a way of expressing their strength, their will to stand when others fell.

The origins of martial arts, according to the author, were rooted not just in physical training but in observing the world around them.

"A true master sees beyond the act of fighting; they see the essence of life reflected in every strike, every block, every breath." The words made Kyle pause, and his gaze shifting to the flutter of leaves overhead.

Did those ancient warriors see nature as their mentor? He wondered. He could almost imagine it—watching how the wind shifted and learning to mimic its movement, or studying the coiled power of a panther before it pounced.

The idea fascinated him, the notion that strength wasn't just about sheer power but about being in harmony with everything around you.

Kyle turned the page, feeling a newfound respect for the people described within. The author spoke of how martial arts had evolved, schools forming as practitioners refined their philosophies and techniques.

But the essence that Marcus Fent insisted on remained the same: To take what life gave you and find strength within it.

"Adaptation," Kyle said softly. The word rolled around in his mind like a piece of a puzzle, fitting with a sudden click.

The early martial artists had adapted to a world of magic and monsters not by trying to imitate what they couldn't do, but by excelling at what they could.

'Could that apply to me?' Kyle asked himself. He thought about what bothered him now. His approach to chaos mana had always been about forcing it to yield and to bend to his will.

But maybe that was the wrong way. Maybe, like those ancient warriors, he needed to learn from it—study it, mimic it, understand how it flowed and surged before trying to control it.

Kyle could hear his heart pace even faster in his chest and the sudden realization made him to sit straighter.

He hadn't been observing how his mana acted. He had been trying to delicately pressure it to bend, or to forcefully do so without knowing its true nature and what would make it yield.

"This book might have just made my day!" Kyle said with a wide grin as he turned the page.