Souma had mastered the Wind Riding Technique to perfection, and he taught me with tireless dedication.
It took me about ten days to make my way down from the mountaintop. Over the next twenty days, I gradually worked my way to the foot of the mountain. Then, after another thirty days, I learned to find Wind Force in calm, windless places. After two full months, I had finally mastered this peerless art!
Souma was delighted. He hadn't expected me to master this ancient art so quickly. He didn't know that I'd already received guidance from several great masters and could pick up any martial art with ease.
Over those two months, he had visibly aged. Clearly, he'd devoted no small amount of effort to teaching me.
After I mastered the Wind Riding Technique, Souma arranged for me to spar with my fellow disciples. That was when an awkward problem surfaced: I didn't know any of the Wind Sword Sect's sword techniques.
I'd studied the Laurent Fencing Technique with Fiora, then applied its techniques to wielding a spear. I'd handled that well enough, but those moves were entirely different from the ones used here.
If I'd had more time, I could have gradually combined the Wind Riding Technique with what I'd learned before. But I couldn't do that just yet, so I tried to avoid using anything too refined and fought with a few simple, crude moves instead, hoping they wouldn't notice.
But Souma was no ordinary man. After just a few exchanges, he spotted the problem.
"Yasuo, why aren't you using our Wind Sword Sect's techniques? I remember you'd gotten quite good with the Gale Sword not long ago. That's why I taught you the Wind Riding Technique—I hoped you'd help our sect thrive. But now you're using nothing but crude moves. Do you look down on your senior disciples?"
I was at a loss for words, so I came up with an excuse even cruder than my moves.
"This disciple wouldn't dare act conceited. It's strange, but ever since I began studying the Wind Riding Technique, I've been thinking about this exquisite art every waking moment. By the time I mastered it, I'd forgotten all my sword moves. I'm truly at fault!"
Souma furrowed his brows at my explanation. He looked at me, then off into the distance, utterly baffled.
"I've never heard of anyone forgetting their sword techniques after learning the Wind Riding Technique. That's truly strange! But since you mastered it in just two months, I'll let it go. I'll teach you the Gale Sword again. This time, take it slowly. If you forget the Wind Riding Technique, I won't forgive you!"
At last, I'd managed to talk my way out of it. Souma stopped having me spar with the others and taught me the Wind Sword Sect's techniques himself.
With the Wind Riding Technique under my belt, learning these moves was much easier. In just half a month, I'd mastered them and committed them to memory.
The Wind Sword Sect's techniques were completely different from the moves I'd learned before. They were more like the martial arts in wuxia novels: light and graceful, yet carrying the weight of a thousand jun. They didn't seem to offer much of an advantage in a duel, but against multiple opponents, they could hold their own.
In other words, it took the same effort to fight one opponent as it did to fight a crowd.
Souma was old and growing weak, but his movements were cleaner and sharper than ever. He never wasted a single motion, and every attack landed just right. Truly, lush mountains and verdant valleys were but illusions of plants and trees; only in barren cliffs and rugged rocks could one find their true self beneath the heavens.
If I held back, relying on technique alone, I was no match for him.
I lost count of how many times I was defeated, and I lost track of how much time had passed. I only remembered that I finally won once the wild fruits ripened again.
"Truly, you're a prodigy. I spent years distilling the essence of everything I'd learned, and you mastered it all in just over a year. You've even surpassed me, and you're no longer as hotheaded as you once were. This is a great blessing for the Wind Sword Sect."
After my victory, Souma's fighting spirit faded, and he seemed as calm as a gentle breeze.
Seeing him like that, I wasn't happy. Instead, my heart ached for him.
Fulfilling a lifelong wish must have brought him satisfaction, but it also left him without anything to strive for. Besides, he was already old, and now he looked utterly lifeless.
"Master... please take care of your health. From now on, I can train with my senior disciples."
"Hahaha! They're no match for you. Don't worry. My wish may be fulfilled, but my time hasn't come yet. I still want to see you lead the Wind Sword Sect to greatness. But there's something I need you to do."
"Please tell me, Master."
"I just received word that Noxus hasn't given up. They've gathered their forces and are invading Ionia again. They've already landed. I hope you'll contribute your strength once more, just as you did ten years ago."
Ten years ago?
I remembered Darius telling me that Swain had been defeated four years ago. Now it had suddenly become ten years. Subtract the year or so I'd spent training here, and had five years passed since I died as Zhao Xin?
That was terrifying. If I reincarnated a few more times, would everyone I knew be dead?
I agreed at once, eager to descend the mountain and find out what had happened.
"I'm willing to fight for Ionia, to the death."
I wasn't just saying it. I was sincerely grateful to Souma—my third teacher—for all he'd done for me. He'd taught me both the Wind Riding Technique and the Gale Sword, pouring his heart and soul into it.
"They're much better prepared this time, so the fighting will be even more dangerous. Stay alert, and don't rely too much on your strength. The Western Harbinger saved you last time. There may be no one to save you this time."
"This disciple will remember."
"Good. Come with me. There's something I want to give you."
I followed Souma around a few turns until we reached a dilapidated house. I'd been here for so long, but I'd spent nearly all my time training and rarely wandered around. I'd never even noticed this house before.
Souma gently pushed open the door. The inside was just as run-down as the outside, and a thick layer of dust covered everything. No one had been there in ages.
There was only a table in the room, with a sword resting on it. The dust on its scabbard was so thick that its original color was impossible to make out.
"This sword is called Gale. It resonates deeply with Wind Power, and for someone who's mastered the Wind Riding Technique, it's like adding wings to a tiger. I'm passing it on to you now. Make good use of it, and punish evil while promoting good."
I nodded, but I was also curious. Why had such an important sword been left here so carelessly? Even if no one used it, shouldn't it have been kept somewhere safe and honored?
Souma noticed my confusion and chuckled softly.
"Weapons have a life of their own. Those that thirst for blood often taste it; those that hunger for sharpness often break. To suppress a weapon's desires, you must do the opposite. This Gale Sword holds the power of wind, and the way to keep it in check is to seal it away in dust."
"I've never heard that before. It looks like the Gale Sword has been here for a long time."
"I've forgotten exactly how long. Perhaps more than twenty years. The last time I used it was in a sparring match against Master Cheng Li of the Wuju Swordsmanship sect. We both gave it everything we had, yet neither of us could defeat the other. In the end, I drew the Gale Sword and won with its Wind Power. Cheng Li refused to accept the result and said he'd come back to challenge me, but he died in the war. That was his regret, and mine too. After that, I sealed away the Gale Sword and never used it again."
Souma spoke of it with deep sorrow. I didn't ask what their relationship had been. Finding someone who could match you, and sharing that mutual respect, was already one of life's greatest joys. Did it really matter whether they'd been close?
I reached out and picked up the Gale Sword, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Its scabbard emerged in its original form, though it was mottled with age, as if it were telling an ancient tale.
I drew the sword. Its blade wasn't as bright as I'd imagined, and it didn't look particularly sharp. But I felt a subtle sense of comfort in my heart. Perhaps that was my connection to its Wind Power.
"I'll make good use of this sword. By the way, do you know who's leading the army this time?"
"I heard it's still Swain. Lady Irelia wounded one of his legs last time, yet he still dares to come back. I don't know what preparations he's made. Head to Sunon Temple in the west now. Everyone's gathered there."
After bidding farewell to Souma, I set off for Sunon Temple, my mind teeming with thoughts.
If Swain was leading another invasion of Ionia, did that mean their coup had succeeded? I had no idea what had happened during those five years.
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