Breathing as Second Nature, a New Realm of Water!

Morning mist drifted through the woods on Mount Sagiri.

Giyu Tomioka walked through the woodland he knew so well, soft humus and scattered pine needles beneath his feet.

He had no particular destination. He simply walked, just as he had on countless mornings before.

He walked slowly, paying no attention to the path.

Breathing.

It was the only thing he had cared about lately.

Since returning from Mount Fujikasane, that strange sense of "transparency" had not faded. If anything, it had grown clearer.

He could feel air entering his nose and flowing down his windpipe into his lungs, oxygen dissolving into his blood and being carried to every corner of his body.

He had been trying to maintain Water Breathing: Total Concentration in his daily life, just as Master Urokodaki had taught him!

Now, he wandered leisurely through the mountain woods, his mind drifting far away while his body automatically adjusted the rhythm of his breathing.

His lungs expanded and contracted with maximum efficiency, his diaphragm rose and fell steadily, and the oxygen in his blood remained at its peak.

Suddenly, Giyu stopped at the edge of a clearing.

Ahead was a stream flowing down the mountain, its water striking the rocks with a crisp sound.

He closed his eyes and listened intently.

The sound of water.

The sound of breathing.

The sound of his heartbeat.

Slowly, the three sounds fell into sync.

Inhaling was like a stream gathering, holding his breath was like a deep pool storing water, and exhaling was like a waterfall pouring down.

Then, at a certain moment, it was as if some boundary broke with a crack.

Giyu opened his eyes.

He no longer needed to deliberately maintain Total Concentration Breathing.

It had become his instinct, his everyday breathing.

"Water Breathing: Total Concentration: Constant"... without realizing it, he had mastered it.

Giyu looked down at his hand.

The lines on his palm, the pulsing of the blood vessels beneath his skin, the slightest tremors of his muscle fibers—everything was perfectly clear.

He was neither thrilled nor excited. He simply accepted the fact calmly.

He turned and headed back.

His steps were as light as ever. Even on the damp earth, he left no footprints.

The midday sun shone through the wooden cabin's windowpanes, casting bright patches of light on the tatami.

"You want to spar with me?"

Urokodaki set down his teacup and turned his Tengu Mask toward Giyu.

Even through the mask, Giyu could feel his scrutinizing gaze.

"Yes."

Giyu's answer was brief.

He stood straight before his master, his eyes as calm as a pool of still water.

Beside them, Sabito nearly spat out the tea he had just sipped:

"Wait, Giyu, what did you say? Spar with Master? You're kidding, right?!"

Giyu nodded.

Sabito looked at Urokodaki, then at Giyu. Finally, he sighed and smiled helplessly:

"All right... I'll referee."

"But Master, please go easy on him. Giyu's injuries haven't fully healed yet."

Urokodaki did not answer immediately.

He slowly stood, walked over to the wall, and took down his wooden sword.

It was a very old wooden sword, its blade polished to an oily sheen by daily use.

"Let's go to the clearing outside."

The three of them went to the training ground behind the cabin.

It was a patch of leveled earth surrounded by tall cedar trees, its ground covered in footprints and wooden-sword marks accumulated over the years.

Sabito retreated to the edge of the training ground and sat on a rock in the shade of a tree.

He was not particularly worried. (￣▽￣)"

Master Urokodaki knew his limits, and although Giyu had been improving at a tremendous pace, he could not possibly pose a real threat to the former Water Hashira.

Giyu and Urokodaki stood facing each other, ten paces apart.

Neither bowed, and neither called for the start.

Almost simultaneously, they assumed the opening stance of Water Breathing.

At that instant, the smile froze on Sabito's face. (⊙_⊙)

The air changed.

The air around them seemed to stir, flowing and swirling around the two of them, lifting dust and fallen leaves from the ground.

Giyu's breathing was deep and steady, like an undercurrent in the deep sea.

Urokodaki's breathing was calm and powerful, like the water in an ancient deep pool.

Sabito instinctively held his breath.

He found that merely watching the two of them filled him with an immense sense of pressure—an absolute crushing disparity in realms.

Giyu moved first!

His movement did not look fast, but with one step, he had already covered five paces.

His wooden sword traced a simple arc through the air.

[First Form: Water Surface Slash]

Where the blade passed, even the air seemed to split, leaving a distorted, transparent trail, as though a real blade of water had sliced through the sky.

Urokodaki turned his wrist slightly and flicked his wooden sword gently upward.

Clang!!!

The two wooden swords collided, but instead of the dull thud of wood striking wood, they rang out crisply like clashing metal!

A blast of air erupted from the point of impact and swept outward, nearly forcing Sabito's eyes shut.

"Wh...?!"

Sabito's breathing stopped.

On the training ground, the two broke apart after a single clash.

Then, in an instant, they launched into an exchange of attacks at tremendous speed!

Giyu's figure became several shadows, attacking from every angle.

Second Form: Water Wheel!

Third Form: Flowing Dance Movement!

Fourth Form: Striking Tide!

Every move was impeccably executed, yet each bore its own distinctive "variation."

The Water Wheel was smoother, the Flowing Dance more elusive, and the Striking Tide more relentless...

Urokodaki, meanwhile, stood in the same spot from beginning to end.

His movements were extremely small. He merely turned slightly to the side or shifted a little, each time using the smallest angle and the least effort to block or deflect with his wooden sword.

Yet those seemingly simple movements kept all of Giyu's attacks at bay.

Clang! Clang, clang, clang! Clang—!!!

The sounds of their clashes ran together, as dense as rain hammering a tin roof.

Their figures crossed beneath the midday sun, separated, and crossed again, moving so fast that Sabito could see only blurred shadows and flying sweat.

"I... I can't see..."

Sabito murmured to himself.

He suddenly remembered the "practice bout" he had had with Giyu a few days earlier.

At the time, he had thought Giyu was unbelievably strong. He had felt completely seen through and utterly overwhelmed.

But only now did he understand that Giyu probably had not used even thirty percent of his strength in that so-called "practice bout."

What he was watching now was a true "duel."

Their wooden swords collided again, and this time the sound was especially dull.

Giyu used the force of the recoil to drift backward. As he landed, he lightly touched down with his toes and spun like a top.

"Sixth Form: Twisting Whirlpool!"

The air churned violently around Giyu, forming a small cyclone visible to the naked eye!

Dust and fallen leaves rose from the ground, flying along with his rotation.

His wooden sword traced a perfect circle within the cyclone, and the air let out a low howl wherever its edge passed.

Urokodaki took a step back,

Then suddenly stepped forward, thrusting his wooden sword straight at the center of the whirlpool.

He aimed at the point and moment where the whirlpool was weakest.

[Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust Stab]

The sword tip passed through the swirling air and flying debris, heading straight for the point where Giyu's wooden sword exerted its force.

If it struck, the whirlpool would break apart at once.

But Giyu's whirlpool suddenly changed direction.

He adjusted his posture in midair in a way that defied the laws of physics, changing his wooden sword's slash into an upward flick to meet Urokodaki's thrust.

Bang!

Both retreated at the same time.

The sun blazed down. Sweat dripped from Giyu's chin, striking the dust and leaving tiny wet spots.

His breathing was still relatively steady, but his chest was visibly rising and falling.

Urokodaki stood where he was, his eyes fixed on his disciple from behind his Tengu Mask.

His breathing was steadier than Giyu's, but a closer look would reveal that the wrist holding his sword was slightly red.

"Continue!!!"

The fight did not stop.

Time slipped by amid flashing swords and shadows.

The sun slowly tilted westward from overhead, stretching their shadows longer and longer.

Sabito's initial shock gave way to numbness, and now, to thought.

He sat cross-legged in the shade, his eyes straining to follow the fight as his mind raced, trying to understand and absorb everything he saw.

He began to understand a few things.

For instance, Giyu's rhythm... his attacks were like the tide, rising and falling.

A fierce onslaught was always followed by a brief period of adjustment, but that period was so short it could almost be discounted.

And after each adjustment, there would be a tiny change in the next wave of attacks.

Then there was Urokodaki's response... he always neutralized the greatest threat at the smallest cost.

He rarely took the initiative to attack, but every defense concealed an opportunity to counter.

His movements looked conservative, but he was actually controlling the rhythm of the entire battle.

Their fighting styles were completely different, yet they seemed to have grown from the same root.

Sabito suddenly understood the true meaning of "Water Breathing."

It was not a set of fixed moves, but an understanding and application of the essence of "water."

Everyone could have their own "water."

The sun continued to sink, and the horizon took on an orange-red glow.

The two fought from one end of the clearing to the other, their wooden swords clashing over a thousand times and leaving the ground beneath them densely covered in footprints.

Sabito kept track of the time.

Four hours!!!

An ordinary person fighting at such intensity would collapse from exhaustion in ten minutes.

Yet the two on the training ground had been fighting for four hours.

"Is this the power of 'Constant'?"

Sabito clenched his fists.

No, it was not just Constant. Both of them had brought Water Breathing's endurance to its limit!!!

Finally, when the sun had almost disappeared behind the mountain, Urokodaki spoke.

"Enough."

Both stopped at the same time.

The last light of sunset fell on the training ground, on the two slightly trembling wooden swords, and on the two sweat-soaked figures whose chests rose and fell.

Giyu's breathing was noticeably ragged.

He bent over, both hands braced on his knees, sweat pouring down like rain.

Urokodaki's breathing had also grown a little rapid, but it soon steadied.

He stood straight, his wooden sword hanging at his side, his Tengu Mask facing Giyu.

"I lost."

Giyu straightened up and said calmly,

"No."

Urokodaki shook his head.

"If you had used a real sword, and if I were twenty years younger, it would be hard to say who would win."

Sabito stood up from beneath the shade of a tree and walked over to them.

His expression was complicated... There was shock, longing, and a little disappointment.

He had finally seen the gap between himself and a true powerhouse. It was a vast chasm that couldn't be crossed just by trying harder.

"But you still can't beat me now."

Urokodaki continued, his voice tinged with a satisfaction he couldn't quite hide.

"Your sword is too sharp!! It's like a mountain torrent: it can smash through a dam, but if it hits a tough reef, it'll break apart itself."

Giyu listened intently and nodded.

"However..."

Urokodaki looked up at the last light in the western sky.

"To reach this level in just over ten days... Giyu, you really are a monster."

Giyu was silent for a few seconds, then said:

"I'll keep getting stronger."

"I know."

Urokodaki turned and walked toward the wooden cabin.

"Go take care of your wounds first. Sabito, prepare dinner."

"Yes!" Sabito replied.

Giyu stood where he was, watching his teacher's back disappear through the cabin doorway. Then he looked down at his own slightly trembling hands.

It wasn't from exhaustion, but from excitement.

He could finally see the road ahead.

It was still a long way off, but at least he could see it.

The sun sank completely behind the mountains, and Mount Sagiri was shrouded in twilight.

All that remained on the training ground were footprints of varying depths and moisture in the air that had yet to fully disperse.