Danmachi: The Focalors Familia Starting from the Dungeon

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Aiden was certain that by training and sparring with Takemikazuchi, he would gain a massive amount of experience points.

To facilitate this, the Familia reorganized their schedule.

Neither Hyacine nor Robin was a combat-oriented type; forcing them to learn martial arts would be a futile effort with no reward. Therefore, Tifa and Aiden split their learning times. They would take turns training under Takemikazuchi, while the other led Robin and Hyacine into the Dungeon for adventures.

After all, they needed to eat, and the income from the Dungeon was essential. Furthermore, they couldn’t allow their own martial arts training to hinder the growth of Robin and Hyacine.

Even without Aiden, Tifa’s strength—combined with Robin’s support buffs and Hyacine’s healing—formed a party that faced little danger as long as they stayed within the Upper Floors.

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”Well then, let’s begin.”

Takemikazuchi wasted no words. He casually twirled his sword, the tip pointing straight at Aiden. ”Come at me.”

Aiden didn’t hesitate. He immediately assumed the stance he had learned from Alfia—a posture filled with killing intent.

However, the moment he settled into the stance, Takemikazuchi shook his head.

”Wrong.”

”Your stance exists solely for slaughter. You have discarded all unnecessary movements to maximize efficiency, but in doing so, you have also discarded your foundation and your ability to adapt.”

Takemikazuchi pointed out the flaw with surgical precision.

”Against those weaker than you, you can kill in one strike. Against mindless monsters, you can win with technique. But the moment you encounter an adventurer of equal or greater strength, you will expose your openings.”

”Simply put, your swordsmanship is designed for monsters, not for people.”

Before his voice had even faded, Takemikazuchi’s figure vanished from where he stood.

In the next instant, Aiden felt a numbness in his wrist. The longsword in his hand flew out of his control, tracing an arc through the air before embedding itself precisely into a crack in the distant stone wall.

Before he realized it, Takemikazuchi had already appeared at his side. The training sword in the god’s hand rested quietly against Aiden’s throat.

Aiden’s pupils contracted sharply.

He hadn’t even seen the movement.

”The sword is an extension of the arm. But if you cannot control the arm itself, then no matter how sharp the extension, it is meaningless.”

Takemikazuchi withdrew his blade and spoke calmly. ”Today, I will first teach you how to fight after you have lost your sword.”

With that, he stabbed his own sword into the ground to the side and crooked his finger at Aiden.

Aiden took a deep breath, suppressing the shock in his heart. He abandoned the mindset of a swordsman, mobilized the strength of his entire body, and charged forward in the stance of a martial artist.

The time that followed was, for Aiden, an unprecedented experience that could only be described as hell.

He witnessed what true ”God-Realm” martial arts looked like.

Even though his basic stats—Strength, Agility, Dexterity—completely overwhelmed Takemikazuchi, who had sealed his divine power, and despite having studied under Alfia and learned top-tier swordsmanship and combat techniques, in front of Takemikazuchi, he was like a toddler just learning to walk—laughably clumsy.

Every one of his attacks, whether a swift straight punch or a tricky kick, was neutralized by the god using the simplest, most effective, and most inconceivable methods.

It was as if Takemikazuchi could predict his every move, appearing at the critical position a step ahead and destroying his momentum with minimal effort.

Aiden felt like he was fighting a body of water or a gust of wind; he had strength to spare but nowhere to vent it.

Takemikazuchi’s counterattacks, on the other hand, were simple, direct, and incomparably lethal.

He showed no mercy. Every strike landed precisely on Aiden’s joints, acupoints, and weak spots.

Sensations of soreness, numbness, swelling, and sharp pain constantly assaulted Aiden’s nerves.

He was knocked down time and time again. And time and time again, relying on his powerful will and physical constitution, he crawled back up—only to be knocked down once more.

Atop the city wall, the only sounds were the dull thuds of physical impact and Aiden’s increasingly heavy breathing.

Takemikazuchi was undoubtedly a teacher strict to the point of cruelty.

But he was also the best teacher.

He beat Aiden until he was black and blue all over, looking utterly miserable. Yet Aiden knew these were just flesh wounds; they looked terrifying but didn’t harm his foundation.

With every knockdown, with every attack endured, his body remembered the sensation in the most profound way possible—how force was guided, how attacks were neutralized, how openings were created.

This was the most precious practical experience, something language could not describe.

This was the teaching of a War God.

Seven days. In just seven days, Aiden’s entire temperament underwent a heaven-and-earth transformation.

If the Aiden of seven days ago was a sharp sword revealing its edge, then the Aiden of today was like a piece of dark, condensed iron. All his sharpness was perfectly restrained within; he looked ordinary, yet contained a terrifying explosive power.

Of course, the price for this rebirth-like growth was tragic.

Every morning on the city wall, a one-sided ”beating” would take place.

And every evening, Aiden would drag his exhausted, bruised body back to the Familia headquarters.

Furina complained to Takemikazuchi incessantly about this. Seeing Aiden covered in injuries, she would puff up her cheeks in distress and accuse the War God of being too heavy-handed, calling it abuse.

Takemikazuchi could only laugh it off, accepting Furina’s verbal lashings while dodging the issue with various excuses.

But the intensity of his teaching did not decrease in the slightest.

Because he knew better than anyone that Aiden was different.

For a prodigy seen only once in a century, step-by-step conventional teaching would be the greatest waste of potential.

A god’s vision was far beyond that of mortals.

Even without the ”Divine Eye” of the Goddess of Beauty, Freya, which could see the color of souls, gods who had lived for hundreds of millions of years could still see many things mortals could not through a person’s gestures and the flow of their aura.

On the very first day of teaching Aiden, Takemikazuchi discovered this boy’s uniqueness.

His speed in absorbing combat experience was hair-raising, and the magnitude of his growth was terrifying.

Takemikazuchi could clearly feel that Aiden’s Strength, Speed, Endurance, Agility, and even his abstract combat intuition and understanding of swordsmanship were changing almost daily.

On the first day, Aiden was a beginner with no power to fight back.

By the second day, Aiden could barely keep up with his rhythm and even launch a few decent counterattacks.

By the third day, Aiden could occasionally predict his movements. Although he was still easily defeated, that progress was enough to shock any god.

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