Demon Slayer: Starting with the Great Swordmaster System, My Master is Tsugikuni

Even without using the Breathing Technique, his strength was still terrifying.

The powerful physique granted by his innate markings, combined with years of combat experience.

All these elements came together to forge Yoriichi's might.

With one misstep, the Scribe could even face mortal danger.

It could be said that this was a test involving life and death!

Facing a trial between life and death, the Scribe suddenly smiled.

Death was just death—what was there to fear?

Rather than living a life of obscurity, he craved a spectacular battle.

Undergoing the practical test meant he had to launch an attack against Yoriichi.

He was about to strike at the world's strongest swordsman.

Just thinking about it made his blood boil.

Gripping the Wooden Sword tightly, the Scribe assumed his combat stance.

An indescribable aura spread out, as if the surrounding environment had grown heavier.

Silence spoke louder than words.

On a nearby leaf, a single dewdrop slowly slid.

Tracing the emerald surface, it dripped gently down.

Drip~

The moment the droplet hit the ground, the Scribe moved.

His feet stomped hard against the earth, his body turning into an arrow as he shot forward.

Facing Tsugikuni Yoriichi, he still chose to strike first.

Only by unleashing his full strength did he have any chance of passing.

A pale white sword slash flew out, heading straight for Tsugikuni Yoriichi's face.

Facing the sword slash, Yoriichi's expression remained utterly unchanged.

He swung his Wooden Sword, thrusting it in a way ordinary people couldn't comprehend, striking the weakest point of the slash.

Clang clang clang clang clang

The Wooden Sword and the slash collided, producing the sound of metal striking metal.

After five crisp sounds, the pale white slash shattered instantly, dissipating into the air.

His proud attack was easily broken, yet the Scribe's face showed no disappointment.

He knew very well that this was only the beginning.

With the same forward charge, Yoriichi closed the distance between himself and the Scribe.

Rather than long-range attacks, Yoriichi often chose close-quarters combat.

He raised his Wooden Sword high, then brought it crashing down toward the Scribe's right shoulder.

A whooshing sound rang in his ears, as if telling the Scribe how terrifying this strike was.

Even if it was his own disciple, he wouldn't hold back.

If this blow landed, a large lump would inevitably swell on the shoulder.

Glancing sideways, the Scribe understood Yoriichi's intent and held his sword horizontally.

The two Wooden Swords met, producing a heavy collision sound.

The moment they touched, the Scribe knew that a head-on clash was impossible to win.

Tsugikuni Yoriichi's strength far surpassed his own at this point.

Gripping the end of his Wooden Sword with both hands, he stabilized his stance.

Then he stepped back, easing the impact from his opponent.

Stomp stomp stomp

With each step backward, the Scribe's feet carved deep grooves into the ground.

After retreating dozens of steps, the Scribe kicked against a tree behind him.

With a loud crash, both bodies came to a halt.

Once the surging blood in his body had calmed slightly, the Scribe attacked again.

Pressing close against his opponent's Wooden Sword, the Scribe slashed forward, aiming for the hand holding the blade.

Injuring ten fingers is worse than cutting off one—the Scribe wanted to make Yoriichi drop his sword!

As long as Yoriichi had no weapon in hand, his chances of passing would greatly increase.

A flicker of approval flashed in his eyes, and Yoriichi made his response.

His body twisted, and his left elbow slammed directly into the Scribe's abdomen.

The immense force passed through his body, shattering the tree behind him.

The falling tree kicked up a huge cloud of dust, completely swallowing the Scribe who had been sent flying.

It was over.

There was no trace of disappointment on his face; in fact, Yoriichi was quite satisfied with his disciple's strength.

Just as he was about to sheathe his sword and declare the battle over, the Scribe's voice rang out from the dust.

It's not over yet!

The moment the words fell, Tsugikuni Yoriichi heard a low growl.

Then, a figure covered in blood burst out from the dust.

Another slash!

Ignoring his body's limits, the Scribe used every ounce of his strength to deliver a desperate slash!

Even though there was still some distance between them, Yoriichi could hear the sound of muscles tearing from the Scribe's body.

The slash cut through the air with a sharp whoosh toward Tsugikuni Yoriichi, a milky-white edge filled with the Scribe's will.

At this moment, he only wanted to win!

Slightly affected by his disciple's tenacious spirit, Yoriichi's usually unshakable heart trembled for a moment.

Even so, the wooden sword in his hand swung out heavily.

Shattering the Scribe's slash, the wooden sword hacked toward his wrist.

Aaaah!

Facing Tsugikuni Yoriichi's attack, the Scribe roared with all the strength he had left.

I'm going to win!

The wooden sword propped across his wrist and shoulder, the Scribe tried to endure the blow head-on.

But the wooden sword was too fragile, utterly unable to withstand such fierce combat.

With a crack, the wooden sword in his hand snapped.

What the hell!

His expression shifted; the Scribe hadn't expected things to go wrong at this critical moment.

Seeing the wooden sword break, Tsugikuni Yoriichi couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

The Scribe's chances of passing were already slim, and without the wooden sword, they were even slimmer.

A hint of regret in his heart, but the wooden sword in his hand still struck the Scribe's wrist.

After two strikes, the Scribe stepped back, clutching his wrist.

Yoriichi's strike was very precise—it rendered the Scribe unable to fight but didn't damage the bone.

Of course, the two large lumps on his wrist would take a few days to go down.

Seeing that the Scribe had lost his combat ability, Tsugikuni Yoriichi tossed the wooden sword aside.

Looking at the Scribe's face full of unwillingness, Yoriichi said, "You lose—"

Before he could finish, the Scribe suddenly roared.

I won!

Then, the unwilling expression on his face faded, and he pointed at Yoriichi's sleeve.

At some point, a torn mark had appeared on the edge of the sleeve.

The Scribe has passed the trial!

Chapter 4: The Thirteenth Form, Total Concentration Sun Breathing

Looking at his torn clothes, Tsugikuni Yoriichi's eyes showed rare confusion.

But after a moment's thought, he seemed to understand something.

Though his face was covered in dust and dirt, the Scribe's face was full of the joy of victory.

"You used the broken wooden sword just now?"

Picking up the half of the wooden sword from the ground, Tsugikuni Yoriichi pointed at the fabric fragments on it.

"I was well aware of the gap in our strength, so from the start, I never planned to clash head-on."

Dusting off the dirt on his clothes, the Scribe stood up and said softly.

"Everything I did before was to distract Master as much as possible."

Nodding, Yoriichi understood what had just happened.

During the retreat, the Scribe had kicked the broken wooden sword.

At the time, he had thought the outcome was decided and had been deceived by the Scribe's miserable state, subconsciously overlooking it.

One could say that in this practical sparring, the Scribe had pushed his wisdom and combat ability to their absolute limits.

He had passed the trial!

Watching the Scribe clutching the swollen lump on his wrist, his face twisted in pain as he bared his teeth, Tsugikuni Yoriichi suddenly burst into laughter.

It was the first time he had lost his composure like this, yet he felt a genuine joy from the depths of his heart.

Perhaps, he thought, the successor to Sun Breathing he had been waiting for all along was none other than his own disciple.

With that thought, Tsugikuni Yoriichi pulled a small booklet from his robe.

He tossed the booklet to the Scribe, then reached over to the rack beside him and took down his own sword.

The Scribe caught the booklet and saw several large characters written on its cover.

Sun Breathing.

Flipping through it, the Scribe discovered that it contained not only the Twelve Forms of Sun Breathing.

More importantly, it held the most basic breathing techniques and the advanced version—Total Concentration Breathing.