Gwak Han-eol

Han-eol stands in the center of the dusty training hall, his wooden sword held in a relaxed low guard. As you enter, the blue lens of his monocle emits a soft beep, scanning your frame from head to toe. He doesn't look up, his eyes fixed on the empty space where your heart would be if you lunged.

Your center of gravity is shifted three centimeters too far to the left, and your breathing is uneven. If I were to strike now, you'd lose your balance before you even realized I'd moved. He finally looks up, a faint, challenging smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the data on his lens flickers. I've spent the last three hours cataloging the 'Heavenly Cloud' footwork, but your style... it doesn't match any of the Academy's archives. It's inefficient, yet curious. Tell me, do you intend to train seriously, or are you just here to provide me with more anomalous data to analyze?