In Fact, I'm Also Well-Versed in Swordsmanship

For the past few years, I have been training my swordsmanship at the Isshin Dojo. Teacher Koshiro was very kind to me, but I always felt a sense of dissatisfaction. I still dreamed of one day reviving the dojo.

Especially a few months ago, a guest from Asagiri Island visited the teacher. I asked about the Sakuraba Dojo, and that guest was stunned for a long time. He had never even heard of it!

"This kind of thing, this kind of thing..."

Junichi clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together, "I can't accept this! If my father were still here, how could this have happened! Back then, Sakuraba was known by everyone on Asagiri Island!"

"It's all my fault! I'm too incompetent! I couldn't inherit my father's legacy and responsibilities, and I didn't become a swordsman strong enough to stand on my own, which is why the dojo has fallen into ruin to this state!"

"Stop, stop, stop."

Xianuo's skin crawled, and he quickly raised his hand to interrupt.

"Enough already, I can't stand it. You're so young, talking about responsibility and reviving the dojo. I ask you, how old were you when your father died?"

Why bring this up?

But Junichi answered honestly, "Ten years old."

"Then that settles it," Xianuo spread his hands. "You said all your senior disciples ran away, right? A situation that adults couldn't control, what could a ten-year-old child do?"

"What's with the dramatics? Crying and wailing, blaming yourself for everything. Who are you trying to impress? This is just masochism."

"Remember, instead of consuming yourself, consume others. Otherwise, you'll fall into endless anxiety, and you might even hang yourself one day."

He spoke with the air of someone who had been through it all. "Your immediate priority is to train your swordsmanship diligently with Koshiro. When you're tired, curse those who ruined the dojo to vent, and then continue practicing. It's not your fault; it's theirs!"

"..." Junichi was stunned.

This guy, he's even younger than me, but why does what he says sound so philosophical?

"But my swordsmanship is already very strong..."

He said urgently, "When I return to Asagiri Island this time, I'm here for the Kendo Tournament. I want to win the championship and let those people from the Seven Great Dojos know that the Sakuraba family hasn't fallen yet! It's ju-just..."

"No money for the registration fee?" Xianuo glanced at him sideways.

"Yes."

Junichi drooped his head, then became angry again the next moment. "You saw what was posted on the bulletin board, right? The registration fee alone is ten thousand Belly, and we have to buy the regulation kendo uniform and bamboo sword, which are also very expensive. Together, it's almost twenty thousand Belly."

"Not to mention, only disciples under the Seven Great Dojos can register. Outsiders have to find a way to pay to join a dojo... It's insane! They're so greedy, yet they dare to call this the most authoritative kendo event in the East Blue..."

"Kendo, and the dojos that teach swordsmanship, shouldn't be like this at all!"

Bang! He became more agitated as he spoke, unable to resist slamming his fist on the table and shouting, "Why do the Seven Great Dojos have to be like this! When the Sakuraba family first founded the Kendo Tournament, they didn't charge any fees and even subsidized the travel expenses for swordsmen who were short on cash. The atmosphere back then... how did it become this ugly? Don't they have any honor or self-awareness as swordsmen!"

"So noisy! Honestly... I can't even hear the beautiful lady talking. Shut up! You brat!"

The table next to them was also slammed violently. A man in gold-rimmed glasses, who was flirting with a hostess, rolled up his sleeves and stood up, about to throw a punch.

Xianuo turned his face coldly.

"I'm sorry, please continue."

The man in gold-rimmed glasses quickly sat back down.

Meanwhile, Junichi realized his outburst and hurriedly stood up, bowing to all the other patrons who were looking over.

After sitting back down, he lowered his head and remained silent, his tightly clenched fists trembling slightly.

"..." Xianuo quietly looked at the slender youth before him and suddenly spoke, "I need to confirm two things with you."

"W-what?" Junichi looked up blankly.

"The Kendo Tournament registration closes tomorrow, right? When does it start, and how many days will the matches last?"

"It starts the day after tomorrow. As for the schedule..." Junichi shook his head. "There's no schedule. The results are determined on the same day. Preliminary rounds in the morning, semifinals in the afternoon, and finals in the evening."

"So, it only takes one day. Xianuo nodded, "Understood. Second thing, is the Sakuraba Dojo still on the official registered list? Can I register directly?"

"Yes." Junichi hesitated. "Actually, I don't understand why the Seven Great Dojos haven't removed Sakuraba yet. Perhaps they're afraid of the bad reputation, after all, the Kendo Tournament was founded by my father..."

He suddenly realized something and looked up with surprise and joy. "Y-you mean, you're willing to lend me money to help me register for the tournament?"

"No."

Xianuo shook his head. After thinking for a moment, he added, "Lending you money is also an option, but what I mainly mean is, perhaps you could give me the status of a disciple of the Sakuraba Dojo, like vice-dojo master or something. That way, I can also participate in this Kendo Tournament."

"Huh? You?!"

"Why the look of doubt? Be careful, I might get unhappy and go back on my word about lending you the money."

Xianuo placed his empty wine glass on the table, stood up with a slice of lemon in his mouth, stretched, and said with a smile, "There's something I forgot to tell you."

"Actually, I'm also a swordsman who has a basic understanding of swordsmanship."

Half an hour later, at the registration office.

With a new regulation kendo uniform and a brand-new bamboo sword tucked under his elbow, Xianuo reluctantly put away his wallet, handing one of each to Sakuraba Junichi.

"They're really ripping us off."

On the way back to the inn, Xianuo cursed the Seven Great Dojos again. "For this kind of fabric, this shoddy sword, with bamboo splinters not even properly shaved off, they dare to charge fifteen thousand Belly each. Isn't this pure robbery? With such high entry barriers, why are so many people rushing to get fleeced?"

Bellemere's fifty thousand berries were gone in an instant.

If he hadn't had some change saved up from before, they probably wouldn't even be able to afford an inn tonight and would have ended up sleeping on the streets together.

"After all, the prize money is quite generous, and moreover, becoming the champion... no, even just reaching the semifinals is a great honor for swordsmen in the East Blue."

Junichi followed closely by his side, "Several local newspapers from the East Blue will also be coming. The champion will instantly gain fame. Who doesn't have a dream of becoming famous? But..."

"But what?" Xianuo stopped in his tracks and turned to look at him.

"But I still really doubt if you're a true swordsman."

Junichi's tone was very sincere, "Mr. Xianuo... I'll call you that for now. Although I'm very grateful for your guidance and comfort, and for lending me such a large sum of money, you really don't look like a swordsman at all, do you? What kind of swordsman goes out without even bringing their own sword?"

The sword is in my inventory, you can't see it.

Xianuo muttered inwardly.

After getting the "Masamune" sword, he had thrown away that small wooden sword. After all, that thing wasn't even as long as his arm now, and carrying it around would only make him look ridiculously like a clown.

"Your reason for doubting is valid."

Xianuo looked down at the scrawny teenager before him. "But don't I have a sword now?" He hefted the standard-issue bamboo sword in his hand and grinned. "How about we find an open space and spar?"