The weak swordsman clings to victory.

He thinks of his life, his obligations,

the outcome of the battle, his hatred for his opponent,

his training, his pride in his mastery.

By doing so, he is an imperfect vessel for the terrible fires of Will.

He will surely crack. He will not laugh uproariously if he is cleft in two by his opponent's blade.
When his sword is shattered, his hands will be too reserved to tear his enemies' flesh.