“The technique of using a dagger focuses on close combat. Speed, agility, and precision are key—swift strikes that are as sharp as they are decisive. Your move with the hoe and pickaxe resembles the instinct of a tiger pouncing on prey. While human claws lack the lethality of a tiger’s, adding a dagger changes the game entirely,” Odell explained, gesturing for Su Jie to pick up the dagger. “What did you feel earlier?”

“Fear, hesitation, complete helplessness, like a lamb to the slaughter,” Su Jie answered honestly.

“The pressure of a dagger is ten times greater than that of a fist. A gun, in turn, exerts ten times the pressure of a dagger. Of course, guns are far too dangerous, and only maniacs train with them,” Odell remarked, as if lost in memory. “Come, let’s go again.”

With a swift motion, Su Jie gathered his courage and attacked once more.

For an entire day, Su Jie sparred with Odell using daggers. Gradually, he began to overcome his fear.

“This is the dagger technique for close-range combat. Next is long-distance throwing.” During their sparring, Odell suddenly switched tactics. He sprinted with the ferocity of a leopard, quickly creating distance, then bent low and hurled the dagger.

Caught off guard, Su Jie froze. All he saw was a flash of white light streaking toward him, grazing his hair. The experience left him trembling, feeling as though he might lose control of his bowels.

“This is the dagger’s advantage—it doubles as a throwing weapon. This trait, sinister and deadly, captures the essence of ancient assassination techniques. In traditional martial arts, fists, staves, swords, and blades don’t rival the speed of a concealed weapon. Hidden weapons are king,” Odell explained. “In modern times, guns render such techniques obsolete, but training with daggers hones your reflexes and agility.”

The training resumed.

Throughout the practice, Su Jie found himself unable to even graze Odell. The latter’s dagger skills were ghostly and unpredictable, as if possessed by some otherworldly being. Su Jie imagined that even if dozens of people pursued Odell, they would all meet their demise.

In movies and television, martial arts masters are often shown fighting off twenty or more adversaries alone. Su Jie had always thought this was impossible.

But with weapons? Maybe not.

Daggers were terrifying. A light slash could sever a head or limb. Thrown from a distance, a glint of cold steel could pierce a throat.

“I’ve read tales of spear-wielding masters who could kill with a single thrust. It’s no wonder ancient generals favored spears. Thinking about Zhao Yun of Changshan, charging into armies alone with his spear and armor, seven times in and out—perhaps such feats weren’t impossible after all,” Su Jie mused. He realized that if a simple dagger could intimidate him, the sight of a spear-wielding warrior charging on horseback would scatter hundreds of poorly trained soldiers.

In this moment, Su Jie began to grasp the concept of momentum in martial arts.

“To defeat someone, strike their courage first,” Odell said. “First comes momentum, then courage. But courage alone isn’t enough—you need calm analysis. Martial arts, like warfare, can allow the weak to defeat the strong. History has countless examples of small armies defeating large ones by channeling their unity into a decisive charge, causing panic and chaos among the enemy. The Japanese combined martial arts with strategy, distilling the essence of The Art of War into the four-character motto: ‘Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain.’ Of course, these philosophical ideas require deep study. To reach the pinnacle of martial arts, one must ultimately embrace philosophy, not mere physical prowess or competitive fighting.”

Su Jie listened quietly, absorbing the knowledge.

Bare-chested and covered in bandages, Su Jie bore numerous small cuts from the dagger. Odell had remarkable control, causing only superficial wounds to let Su Jie feel the sharpness of a blade without inflicting real harm. 

This was the hallmark of a top-tier coach.

Such training was beyond the capability of ordinary instructors.

Su Jie had already researched Odell online and found that he was one of the world’s most renowned coaches, having trained several world champions. In the country, no coach surpassed him.

Odell himself was also a martial arts master of the highest caliber, though Su Jie had no idea just how skilled he truly was.

After all, Su Jie was still a beginner, with only about twenty days of training.

However, those twenty days were far more effective than ordinary training, thanks to his world-class coach. Even professional athletes in national teams didn’t receive this level of instruction.

The training was intense and fulfilling.

Since Odell would soon leave, he planned the most meaningful lessons for Su Jie’s final days, focusing not only on physical conditioning but also on dagger combat.

To an outsider, their sparring sessions might have seemed reckless and dangerous. Both wielded sharp daggers, slashing and stabbing without any protective gear.

Su Jie’s dagger technique improved significantly. However, his go-to move remained a single one—raising the dagger in a spiraling arc before slashing or thrusting forward. It was the “hoe and pickaxe” move.

He had refined this technique to perfection, practicing it repeatedly with advances, retreats, dodges, and lunges.

Under Odell’s guidance, Su Jie deeply understood the intricacies of this move. He learned that mastering this foundational technique would allow him to branch out into countless variations.

The move mimicked the instincts of animals during an attack. Whether leaping like a monkey, crouching like a tiger, coiling like a snake, or circling like an eagle, even a mantis readies its pincers before striking.

“When humans walk, their hands dangle at their sides. When faced with an attack, they instinctively raise their hands to defend themselves. This move refines and amplifies that instinct, training the entire body—hands, eyes, posture, and footwork. No wonder people say that the countless variations in martial arts stem from this ‘hoe and pickaxe’ move.”

Through daily dagger training, Su Jie felt that the essence of this technique had been etched deeply into his mind.

As he sparred with the dagger each day, his fear of its sharp edge gradually dissipated. His confidence surged, and he couldn’t help but fantasize about testing Josh’s punches.

If he wasn’t afraid of a dagger, why fear fists?

But he reminded himself that this confidence was deceptive. Though his courage had grown, his physical condition hadn’t caught up yet. Charging headfirst into a punch would likely leave him battered and bruised.

Courage alone wasn’t enough. Without strength to back it up, it was all for naught.

Odell also told him that growing bolder could easily lead to an illusion of invincibility, thinking you fear nothing, only to suffer losses. He advised that courage should be tempered with caution; only then could one truly progress.

In any case, after seven days of practicing with daggers, his courage had grown, and his agility and physical fitness had improved significantly.

Furthermore, Su Jie found that his body had become much sturdier and taller. He was almost growing by the day, now nearing 1.8 meters in height. This was because he was currently seventeen years old, the critical age for physical development. Odell’s nutritional meals were rich and packed with foods that strengthened bones and replenished calcium. In addition, the daily physical training and stretching were designed to promote growth, a process referred to as “stretching the tendons and pulling the bones.”

Su Jie’s body now had faintly visible muscles, well-proportioned and balanced. His arm span had also increased, resembling the “ape arms and wasp waist” often described in novels—an ideal build for combat, with no extra fat and exceptional explosive power.

[July 22: In addition to the usual training, dagger practice was added today. At first, I was so flustered by the daggers that I didn’t know what to do, but after enough practice, my courage grew. Now, when I see someone’s fists, it feels like a child playing house. When I practice with Josh, I think I can do it without protective gear.]

[July 23: I now relish the daily training. Missing even one day makes me uncomfortable, and the initial pain is long gone. The training still requires full concentration, especially against the sharp edges of a dagger. This, even when I know the instructor won’t hurt me. How intense must the training have been for ancient warriors, fighting life-or-death battles on the battlefield? It’s beyond imagination.]

[July 24: The more frequent my dagger combat training, the more I feel that weapons are the soul of martial arts. Modern combat techniques are merely sports; without weapons, martial arts lose their essence. Every thrust I make with the dagger deepens my understanding of the ‘hoe and pick’ technique.]

Su Jie’s journal continued.

On July 25, after completing his usual training, Odell did not spar with daggers but instead brought out two long spears with wooden shafts about as thick as an egg and sharp steel tips.

“Today’s sparring weapon is the spear,” Odell said. “Dagger training was about close-quarters combat, while spear thrusting focuses on long-range strikes, which are even more dangerous.”

Holding the spear, Su Jie looked at the gleaming tip, knowing that even a light thrust could pierce a human body and create a massive wound. Facing such a weapon from a distance was indeed more terrifying than a dagger.

“A longer weapon offers greater strength, while a shorter one brings higher risk. The dagger is the most practical short weapon of ancient times, while the spear is the most practical long weapon. Now, follow my lead: hold the spear, stand firm, draw an inward arc, then an outward arc, and finally thrust forward. Spear techniques are simple: block, redirect, and thrust, using your entire body’s strength to create momentum. Drawing an inward arc is called ‘block,’ drawing an outward arc is called ‘redirect,’ and the straight thrust is called ‘stab.’”

Odell demonstrated three moves: inward and outward arcs, followed by a forward thrust.

Su Jie imitated him, repeatedly practicing the movements.

After a while, Su Jie noticed that the steel-tipped spear seemed alive in Odell’s hands, able to strike at any moment. In contrast, his own spear felt rigid and lifeless.

During practice, Odell observed Su Jie’s movements, offering corrections to his posture.

This monotonous training continued for two full hours. Su Jie felt he had reached his limit before Odell finally called for a break.

After a half-hour rest, Odell asked, “What insights have you gained about the three spear techniques?”

“It’s still the ‘hoe and pick’ technique at its core,” Su Jie said with increasing proficiency. “Blocking is like raising the hoe, twisting the body to draw an upward arc. Redirecting is like chopping downward, while thrusting resembles the motion of driving the hoe forward. They’re essentially the same thing.”

“Excellent!” Odell’s eyes lit up again. “Now you understand why hoeing and digging are the most fundamental training methods. Whether it’s the knife or spear, they all stem from this single principle. Ancient warfare relied primarily on knives and spears. Beyond that were bows and arrows, which fall under projectile weapons, relying not on physical strength but mechanical force.”

“What about staffs? I’ve read that many ancient fighters were skilled with staffs, as described in Water Margin,” Su Jie asked, having done his homework.

“Staffs were a civilian weapon, often used when no other option was available. A staff could double as a carrying pole for travel, but walking around with a knife or spear would draw the authorities’ attention. Of course, a spear could be used like a staff, but the reverse isn’t true. However, what I want to teach you isn’t about staffs. It’s still about courage training. Now, thrust the spear at me,” Odell instructed.

“Here I go!” Su Jie gave a vigorous thrust toward Odell’s chest.

Odell’s steel-tipped spear moved in a flash, drawing an outward arc and striking Su Jie’s spear away. Then, with a smooth motion, his spear tip reached Su Jie’s face.

Seeing the spearhead so close to his eyes, Su Jie froze, unable to react. Fortunately, the spear stopped just short of making contact.

“Feel it carefully. Let’s go again,” Odell said without further explanation, resuming the training.

Su Jie took a moment to adjust his state of mind. He realized that spear techniques shared similarities with the hoe: both used the body as a lever, applying coordinated strength for greater speed, efficiency, and power.

Spear techniques were more versatile, while the hoe emphasized stability. Yet the core principles were the same.

Instead of acting immediately, Su Jie focused on steadying his breathing, entering a calm state. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he raised the spear as if lifting a hoe.

The spear shot forward.

“Hm?” Odell appeared slightly surprised. But just as the spear reached him, he drew an arc with his own weapon. Despite Su Jie’s firm grip, his spear was knocked away, and the steel tip once again stopped in front of his eyes.

Anyone facing a sharp spear tip so close to their eyes would feel a profound panic—more so than when facing fists.

This was a long spear with a deadly tip, capable of causing massive injuries with a single thrust. It was far more intimidating than a knife.

Although Su Jie had trained to overcome fear, he found himself frozen in the moment, unsure how to react.

Facing the spear was a completely different experience from facing a dagger—one was a short weapon, the other a long weapon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep