Even without using a Breathing Technique, his strength was still terrifying.
The powerful body granted by his innate Demon Slayer Mark, along with his vast experience from years of battle.
All those factors combined to make Yoriichi so powerful.
One careless mistake, and Scribe might even lose his life.
It could be said that this was a test of life and death!
Yet faced with a trial between life and death, Scribe suddenly smiled.
It was only death. What was there to fear?
Rather than live out his life in obscurity, he longed for a glorious, earth-shaking battle.
A practical combat test meant he would have to attack Yoriichi.
He was about to attack the strongest swordsman in the world.
Just thinking about it made his blood boil.
Tightening his grip on the wooden sword, Scribe took up a fighting stance.
An indescribable atmosphere spread through the air, making even the surroundings seem more oppressive.
Silence spoke louder than words.
A droplet of dew slowly slid across a leaf not far away.
It trickled down the emerald-green surface.
Drip~
The instant the droplet hit the ground, Scribe moved.
He stomped hard against the ground, his body shooting forward like an arrow.
Even against Tsugikuni Yoriichi, he chose to seize the initiative.
Only by giving it everything he had could he possibly pass.
A pale white sword aura slashed out, shooting straight for Tsugikuni Yoriichi's face.
Facing the sword aura, Yoriichi's expression did not change in the slightest.
He swung his wooden sword and thrust out in a manner incomprehensible to ordinary people, striking the slash at its weakest point.
Clang clang clang clang clang!
The wooden sword collided with the slash, somehow producing the sound of metal striking metal.
After five crisp impacts, the pale slash shattered instantly and dissipated into the air.
His proud attack had been easily broken, but there was not a trace of disappointment on Scribe's face.
He knew this was only the beginning.
Charging forward as well, Yoriichi closed the distance between himself and Scribe.
Compared to long-range attacks, Yoriichi preferred close-quarters combat more often.
He raised his wooden sword high, then smashed it toward Scribe's right shoulder.
The sharp swishing sound rang beside Scribe's ears, as though warning him of the terror behind this blow.
Even against his own disciple, Yoriichi would not hold back.
If this strike landed, Scribe's shoulder would inevitably swell into a huge lump.
With a glance, Scribe understood Yoriichi's intentions and held his sword horizontally.
The two wooden swords met with a heavy crash.
The moment they made contact, Scribe knew he could never win through brute force.
Tsugikuni Yoriichi's strength far surpassed his own.
He gripped the end of the wooden sword with both hands, steadying his stance.
Then he drew his body backward, easing the impact from his opponent.
Thud, thud, thud!
With every step back, Scribe's feet carved deep furrows into the ground.
After retreating dozens of steps, Scribe kicked off the tree behind him.
With a loud boom, both of them came to a stop.
Once the churning blood and energy within him had calmed slightly, Scribe attacked again.
Keeping close to his opponent's wooden sword, Scribe swung his own sword forward, slashing at Yoriichi's right hand holding the weapon.
Better to cripple one finger than injure ten. Scribe wanted Yoriichi to drop his sword!
As long as Yoriichi had no weapon in hand, Scribe's chances of passing would rise dramatically.
A flash of approval passed through Yoriichi's eyes as he responded.
His body tilted, and his left elbow slammed directly into Scribe's abdomen.
The immense force passed through Scribe's body and shattered the tree behind him.
The fallen tree kicked up a huge cloud of dust, completely swallowing the airborne Scribe.
It was over.
There was no disappointment on Yoriichi's face. In fact, he was quite satisfied with his disciple's strength.
Just as he was about to lower his sword and declare the battle over, Scribe's voice came from within the dust.
It isn't over yet!
The moment he spoke, Tsugikuni Yoriichi heard a low roar.
Immediately afterward, a blood-covered figure charged out of the dust.
Slash again!
Ignoring the limits of his body, Scribe used every ounce of strength in his body to deliver a fierce slash!
Even with some distance between them, Yoriichi could still hear the sound of Scribe's muscles tearing.
Accompanied by the sharp whistle of tearing wind, the slash flew toward Tsugikuni Yoriichi, its milky-white edge filled with Scribe's will.
At that moment, all he wanted was to win!
Slightly moved by his disciple's unyielding spirit, Yoriichi's heart, which had remained steadfast for years, trembled faintly.
Even so, the wooden sword in his hand still swung down heavily.
It shattered Scribe's slash, then struck toward his wrist.
Aaaah!
Facing Tsugikuni Yoriichi's attack, Scribe used all his strength to roar.
I have to win!
He held the wooden sword across his wrist and shoulder, intending to take the strike head-on.
But the wooden sword was far too fragile to endure such an intense battle.
With a sharp crack, the wooden sword in his hand broke.
Damn it!
His expression changed. Scribe had not expected something to go wrong at such a critical moment.
Seeing the wooden sword break, Tsugikuni Yoriichi could not help but sigh inwardly.
Scribe's chances of passing had been slim to begin with. Now that he had lost his wooden sword, they were nearly nonexistent.
Though he felt some regret, the wooden sword in his hand still struck Scribe's wrist.
After two blows, Scribe clutched his wrist and staggered back several steps.
Yoriichi had struck with great precision. Although he had robbed Scribe of his ability to fight, he had not injured any bones.
Of course, the two swollen lumps on his wrist would take several days to subside.
Seeing that Scribe had lost the ability to fight, Tsugikuni Yoriichi tossed aside his wooden sword.
Looking at Scribe's face, which was filled with unwillingness, Yoriichi said, "You lost—"
Before he could finish, Scribe suddenly shouted.
I won!
As he spoke, the unwilling expression on his face vanished. He pointed at Yoriichi's sleeve.
At some point, a tear had appeared along the edge of the sleeve.
Scribe had passed the test!
Thirteenth Form, Sun Breathing of Total Concentration
Tsugikuni Yoriichi looked at his torn clothing, and a rare look of confusion appeared in his eyes.
But after thinking for a moment, he seemed to understand something.
Though his face was covered in dust and dirt, Scribe's face was filled with the joy of victory.
"You used the broken wooden sword just now?"
Picking up half of the wooden sword from the ground, Tsugikuni Yoriichi pointed at the scraps of cloth caught on it.
"I knew the gap in our strength, so from the very beginning, I never intended to fight you head-on."
Brushing the dirt from his body, Scribe stood up and spoke softly.
"Everything I did before was to distract Master as much as possible."
Yoriichi nodded, understanding what had happened.
While retreating, Scribe had kicked the broken wooden sword.
At the time, Yoriichi had believed victory and defeat had already been decided. He had also been deceived by Scribe's miserable state and instinctively overlooked it.
It could be said that in this practical combat test, Scribe had pushed both his intelligence and combat ability to their limits.
He had passed the test!
Seeing Scribe clutch the swollen lumps on his wrist and grimace in pain, Tsugikuni Yoriichi suddenly smiled.
It was the first time he had shown such a loss of composure, yet he felt genuinely happy.
Perhaps the inheritor of Sun Breathing he had always been waiting for was his disciple.
With that thought, Tsugikuni Yoriichi took a small booklet from his robes.
He tossed the booklet to Scribe, then took his own sword from a rack nearby.
Scribe caught the booklet and saw several large words written on it.
Sun Breathing.
As he carefully flipped through it, Scribe discovered that it contained not only the Twelve Forms of Sun Breathing.
More importantly, it contained the most basic breathing methods and the advanced version of Total Concentration Breathing.
Before you continue