Amon, The lowest tier disciple in the Insanity Sect

With a month until the competition, I knew I had to get serious. Well, semi-serious. Let's not set unrealistic expectations here.

I stood in the sect's training grounds, surrounded by disciples practicing their flashy techniques. Fireballs, sword slashes, lightning bolts it was like an action movie out here. Meanwhile, I was holding my new black katana, trying to figure out which end was up.

"Alright, Amon," I said to myself, "step one: swing the sword. Step two: win the competition. Easy, right?"

I took a stance that I thought looked cool, but judging by the snickers of the nearby disciples, it probably wasn't.

"First move: The Mighty Floor Sweeper!" I declared, mimicking a sweeping motion with the blade.

A disciple passing by nearly tripped from laughing so hard. "What are you doing?" he asked between gasps.

"Training," I replied, deadpan.

"Training for what? A janitorial duel?"

"Ha-ha," I said, rolling my eyes. "Mock me all you want, but this is going to be revolutionary."

I ignored him and focused on my next move. This time, I tried a swing that looked like one of the flashy techniques I'd seen earlier. Big mistake. The katana flew out of my hands and embedded itself into a tree.

The same disciple burst out laughing again. "Yeah, you're definitely winning that competition!"

"Hey, at least I'm creative," I shot back, retrieving my sword with what little dignity I had left.

For the rest of the day, I practiced swinging, dodging, and doing my best not to accidentally stab myself. By the end, I was covered in sweat, my arms felt like noodles, and my "techniques" were still more suited to cleaning floors than fighting enemies.

As the sun set, I sat down on a rock, staring at the katana. "This is harder than it looks," I muttered.

Suddenly, Astel appeared out of nowhere, carrying a stack of books. "What are you doing, Amon?"

"Training," I said, holding up the katana.

Astel squinted at me. "You're swinging that thing around like a blindfolded chicken."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied sarcastically.

He sighed and tossed a book at me. "Here. 'How to use a sword for Idiots' It's probably the only thing you're capable of handling right now."

I flipped through the book. Simple diagrams, step-by-step instructions… Finally, something that made sense.

"Thanks, Astel," I said. "You might just save me from total humiliation."

"Don't get your hopes up," he muttered, walking away.

With the book in hand, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be a complete disaster in this competition.