His speech became incoherent, as if Motie's tongue had tied itself into a knot.
Scribe shrugged, feeling nothing in particular.
There was nothing improper about their relationship. He and Yoriichi were simply too lazy to publicize it everywhere.
After quite a while, Motie finally managed to straighten out his tongue.
After studying Scribe carefully, he realized that Scribe and Yoriichi did indeed share many similarities.
Confident, powerful, and highly skilled with the sword.
Like master, like disciple—that was exactly the case here.
Motie shook his head helplessly, able only to express his admiration inwardly.
Since you insist on staying here, I won't try to persuade you any further.
Motie took out most of the food and drinking water from his backpack, leaving only a small portion for himself.
With your help, Scribe, my week-long journey has ended early.
Leaving behind two pieces of Tamahagane and one piece of six-point Tamahagane, Motie placed the rest of the Tamahagane into his backpack.
These are yours. Good luck!
With that, Motie turned and headed down the mountain.
After putting his belongings into his backpack, Scribe walked toward the summit.
The closer one got to the summit, the longer the exposure to sunlight and the better the quality of the Tamahagane.
If so, his hidden mission would most likely be completed there.
One step, two steps, three steps—Scribe slowly made his way toward the summit.
As he drew nearer to the summit, Scribe could clearly feel the air growing hotter and hotter.
The temperature here had probably surpassed forty degrees, twice that at the foot of the mountain.
Standing a little above the mountainside, Scribe looked up at Sunlight Mountain, which he had climbed halfway.
The average quality of the Tamahagane here had already reached five or six points.
Sure enough, my target is at the summit!
After resting briefly, Scribe continued toward the summit.
The closer he got to the summit, the more scorching the air became.
The blazing air warped and twisted, and even the black ore had been dyed a faint red.
It felt as though he had stepped into a furnace.
Huff... huff...
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Scribe felt parched.
He shook the waterskin at his waist and temporarily gave up on taking a drink.
No. Hold on a little longer. This water is my last hope.
If he drank all the water now, Scribe feared he would not last until the summit.
Gradually, he felt his body growing sluggish.
He shook his head hard and blinked several times, trying to stay awake.
Under normal circumstances, losing five percent of one's body water caused agitation, while losing fifteen percent led to unconsciousness.
And now, Scribe's dehydration had already approached twenty percent!
This was enough to be fatal!
Damn it.
Drinking the last of the water, Scribe tossed the empty waterskin aside.
Feeling the moisture in his body slowly evaporate, he knew this was his final chance.
At that moment, he suddenly felt a warmth rise within him.
This is... Sun Breathing?
Quickly realizing what it was, Scribe hurriedly began circulating Sun Breathing.
First Form: Dance
Second Form: Azure Sky
After performing all Twelve Forms, Scribe was surprised to find that the surrounding heat seemed to have weakened somewhat.
No, my heat resistance has increased.
Sun Breathing actually had such a use?
His gaze sharpened as Scribe continued to swing.
Again and again, over and over.
As Scribe continued using it, the Sun Breathing within his body gradually found a shared rhythm with the heat outside.
Resonance!
Closing his eyes, Scribe immersed himself completely in the world of Sun Breathing.
The Sun Breathing inherited from Tsugikuni Yoriichi and the intense heat born of the sun complemented one another, forming a perfect and exquisite cycle within Scribe's body.
Affected by the external environment, the host's heat resistance is continuously increasing. In conjunction with the host's own abilities, Master Swordsmanship is beginning to improve. In conjunction with the host's own abilities, the Proficient Breathing Technique is beginning to improve.
Dance with flames, keep company with high temperatures, entwine sunlight around oneself, and aid the Breath in slaying demons!
When Scribe opened his eyes again, he had already arrived at Sunlight Mountain Peak!
Turning His Body into a Blade, Hidden Mission Complete
What is this?
Before he could fully react, Scribe's mind was still somewhat sluggish.
I've actually reached Sunlight Mountain Peak?
Looking around, Scribe finally realized that he had reached his destination.
Sunlight Mountain Peak was not as rugged as he had imagined. Instead, it was one vast stretch of level ground.
Only at its center stood a massive, fiery-red ore crystal as tall as two people, resembling a giant red crystal.
It was as though all the essence of Sunlight Mountain Peak had been absorbed by the central ore.
That said, the summit was really hot.
Not only had the clothes on his body been completely burned away, even the blade Motie had lent him had melted by nearly half.
Clearly, the temperature at Sunlight Mountain Peak was nowhere near the few hundred degrees Motie had mentioned.
It was a full fifteen hundred degrees!
Good thing I have Sun Breathing. Otherwise, I would have become a pile of ash long ago.
At the thought of Sun Breathing, Scribe suddenly realized that before he had fully immersed himself, he seemed to have heard a system notification.
After checking his various stats, Scribe's expression changed in shock.
Master Swordsmanship: 500,000/1,000,000.
Master Breathing Technique: 400,000/1,000,000.
Looking at his explosively increased swordsmanship and Breathing Technique, Scribe barely suppressed the urge to start all over again.
Impulsiveness is the devil. Impulsiveness is the devil.
After calming himself, he walked toward the very center of the summit.
Standing before the enormous ore, Scribe frowned slightly.
Even with Sun Breathing protecting his body, he could still sense the tremendous energy contained within the massive ore.
Sunlight Mountain remained cloudless year-round, and the summit endured the sun's rays without pause.
A century of accumulation and inexhaustible energy had created this enormous ore.
No wonder no one had ever reached the summit. The temperature alone had stopped ninety-nine percent of people.
But since I've come here, this Tamahagane is mine!
His eyes burned with fervor as Scribe looked at the red crystal with great satisfaction.
Gripping the hilt with both hands, he used Sun Breathing once more.
Azure Sky
Crimson Sun Mirror
The Twelve Forms were unleashed continuously, bombarding the Crimson Crystal Ore.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The explosions resounded across all of Sunlight Mountain Peak, soaring into the heavens as though they would blast the entire azure sky apart.
However, Scribe had underestimated the hardness of the Crimson Crystal Ore.
After pouring an entire set of techniques into it, he had only shaved off a layer of ore from its surface.
It's this hard?!
Gripping the blade again with both hands, Scribe prepared to try once more.
The moment he swung, he sensed that something was wrong.
The blade Motie had lent him was not a Nichirin Blade, merely an ordinary but relatively sharp sword.
After repeatedly using Sun Breathing and enduring the high temperature of Sunlight Mountain Peak, this blade had finally reached its end.
Looking at the sword with only half its blade remaining, Scribe helplessly tossed it aside.
Although he had lost his weapon, the flames in Scribe's eyes burned even brighter.
The more the Crimson Crystal Ore resisted, the more excited Scribe became.
This Tamahagane is mine!
His conviction strengthened, and Scribe began considering how to deal with it.
After thinking it over, he realized that he truly had no especially good method.
What should I do?
Rubbing his chin, Scribe stared at the red crystal before him, looking troubled.
Red crystal, sun, resonance, Sun Breathing.
Combining all the useful information, Scribe's mind spun rapidly.
At last, a flash of inspiration struck, and he seemed to have found a solution.
Though he did not know whether it would work, it was worth a try.
Standing up and stretching a little, Scribe walked toward the Crimson Crystal Ore once more.
He stamped his left foot hard against the ground, clenched his right hand into a fist, then spun around once.
Sun Breathing: First Form: Dance!
Pale-red flames emerged over the surface of his fist, reflecting the light like a slash.
Before you continue