From an angle where no sword could possibly strike, the disciple's abdomen took a savage blow.
His body flew backward like a torn sack, crashing into the dojo floor and dragging a gruesome trail across it.
Only then did Hebe fully grasp her wooden sword.
The smug looks in the surrounding disciples' eyes turned to horror.
What had happened? She had not even finished taking hold of her sword—so how had someone already been sent flying?
"Greetings, everyone of Shūgen-kan. I am Tamamo-no-Mae."
Hebe's unhurried voice rang through the Shūgen-kan dojo. "I wish to see the secret swords preserved by Kyoto's various schools. Please do not hold back. Attack with all you have."
Fifteen minutes later, Hebe walked out of the Shūgen-kan dojo.
She had drawn the famed blade, said to have been forged by a master smith.
Yet that stirring sensation had not appeared.
Since Shūgen-kan's treasured sword was not what Hebe sought, she left without hesitation.
But to the disciples of Jigen-ryū, that carefree departure was nothing less than utter humiliation.
—You really just borrowed our sword for a look? You were not going to do anything else? Were we supposed to just let you look down on us like that?
"Damn it! If Senior Brother Nakamura were here, how could we let some mere woman run wild?" someone muttered.
Nakamura Hanjirō, one of the Four Great Man-slayers of the Bakumatsu, had likewise come from Jigen-ryū.
He had once studied swordsmanship under Jigen-ryū before transferring to Jigen-ryū's sister school. After years of wandering between them, he finally comprehended a secret sword of his own. From then on, both schools called Nakamura Hanjirō a swordsman of their lineage.
The disciples invoked Nakamura Hanjirō for no reason other than to salvage a little pride.
"Enough. Stop talking." Senior Brother