Roy's Limit X Silva's Return

To be a servant of the Zoldyck family is a source of pride.

To be a Zoldyck is an even greater source of pride.

Once upon a time, Zeno also considered himself a proud man, and he had remained so from the past until the present.

But looking at the boy before him—who, save for his hair color, was carved from the same mold as his own younger self—he had to admit that he had been too modest.

"Heh heh heh..." Zeno stared fixedly at Roy, his voice dropping into a low chuckle. "Freedom... that is a very expensive thing."

"Most people dream of it but can never attain it. I hope you get your wish."

"I will do my best."

"Is that so?"

Zeno gave him a deep look.

"Doing your best isn't enough. You have to risk your life."

With that, he drifted past him with his hands behind his back... his toes never seemed to touch the ground, and his figure flickered... flickered... like a teleportation, quickly exiting the long corridor and vanishing from sight.

Roy stood rooted to the spot, silently watching for a while under the setting sun. Then, he lifted his feet and, likewise, flickered... flickered, moving in the opposite direction of the old man, "drifting" toward his bedroom.

Ascending to the pinnacle must begin with the mastery of Shadow Step.

"Seventeen thousand eight hundred and twelve..."

"Seventeen thousand eight hundred and thirteen..."

"Nyah~ Sabito, I can't keep count anymore..."

In the Snow Country, within Roy's Cognitive World, Makomo complained, sticking out her little tongue... The boy beneath the birch tree, swinging his blade down again and again, was like a tireless machine, striking at her perception time after time.

"Then don't make it hard on yourself." Ghosts were not human; they had no physical form and could not hold a pen to record the count.

Sabito understood how Makomo felt. Let alone swinging a sword ten thousand times, even just counting to ten thousand was a test of willpower and focus for an ordinary person.

One could only blame this guy Eiichiro for being so unreasonable.

"No, just a little longer, it's almost twenty thousand." The little girl patted her cheeks, cheering herself on.

Since she was willing to persist, Sabito wisely didn't try to dissuade her. After all... compared to those numb fellows like Shinsuke and Fukuda, Makomo was truly a person of great perseverance.

"Eighteen thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight..."

"Nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine..."

"Twenty thousand!"

The blade sank into the wooden stake, cleaving it in two. The cut surface was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting Roy's slightly steaming little face, making him look heroic and extraordinary.

Six days, from ten thousand to twenty thousand, Roy had achieved the small goal he had set for himself, completing two "Ten Thousand Swings" in a single day.

And this was not yet his limit.

"Add two thousand tomorrow."

Urokodaki Sakonji emerged from the dense forest, saying the same thing to Roy as he had for the past few days.

The expression on the old man's face beneath the tengu mask was unclear, but Sabito and Makomo, who had lived with him since they were small, could vaguely sense through the way he clenched his fists behind his back... that his heart was not as calm as he appeared.

"Master wants to see where Eiichiro's limit is," Makomo whispered.

"Don't you want to see?"

"I do... but if it gets any higher, I won't be able to keep count..."

Makomo poured out her grievances to Sabito.

Sabito smiled and shook his head; this time, Giyu did not pop into his mind.

Three thousand swings at his peak could not be mentioned in the same breath as twenty thousand swings before reaching his limit.

Sabito could almost conclude that once this guy Eiichiro left the mountain, he would surely shock everyone, whether they were demons or the Demon Slayer Corps.

"Perhaps Master is hoping for the same thing..."

Sabito silently watched Urokodaki Sakonji... The old Water Hashira dropped a single word, "Eat," and turned to leave.

His waist seemed unable to withstand the erosion of time, showing faint signs of a stoop.

[System Prompt: Swordsmanship +17]

Another night passed, accompanied by the chiming of the wooden grandfather clock in the corner.

Roy, nearly drained dry, had a simple dinner with Urokodaki Sakonji before climbing onto the heated brick bed early.

He slept until dawn, and the moment he opened his eyes, he was back at Kukuroo Mountain... feeling that familiar sense of "having no interest in anything."

Fortunately, after several days of adjustment, he chose to linger in bed for a while, waiting for the lethargy to fade completely before getting up to run.

Thanks to his mastery of Shadow Step, Roy's speed was getting faster and faster. Even though he tried to pace himself, he still arrived at the Testing Gate at the foot of the mountain before the red sun leaped over the horizon, having swept past the castle and the butler's villa.

"Good morning, Young Master." Zee saw him from afar, took off his hat, and bowed to him.

Roy nodded at him, his gaze drifting past the man's high-receding hairline to glance outside, just in time to hear a thunderous "Boom!" as the Testing Gate—rumored by the outside world to be the Gate of Hades—was pushed open three layers wide, revealing a figure stepping through.

"Good morning, Master Illumi." Zee, who had just put his hat back on, tipped it down once more.

Illumi, clutching a human head in his hand, walked straight past him and tossed it aside; Mike caught the scent and rushed over, swallowing the head in a single gulp.

"Not even enough to fill the gaps between my teeth..." Mike glared at Illumi with dissatisfaction, seemingly complaining.

It had arrived in a flurry of excitement, only to leave full of disappointment.

Illumi ignored it entirely, treating its resentful gaze as if it were air, and locked his eyes onto Roy, who was turning to head back, saying, "From today on, I have eighty-one wins too."

Clearly, the head he had just fed to Mike must have belonged to the Emission-type Nen user who had intercepted him at the Heavens Arena.

What a pity...

"It's not a winning streak."

Roy cast a faint glance back, kindly offering a reminder, before picking up his pace and heading up the mountain.

Veins instantly bulged on Illumi's forehead as he stared daggers at Roy's retreating back and shouted, "Just you wait."

His hands quietly clenched into fists.

"Heh..." The only response was a soft chuckle from Roy and his figure, which was already beginning to fade into the distance.

Whether you come or not, I am always here; living under the same roof, why talk about waiting or not waiting?

If you have the ability, just bring it on.

Roy's earrings fluttered as he broke into a run, returning to his bedroom two minutes faster than expected; after a quick shower, he sat at the dining table, waiting for Gotoh to serve the meal.

Today's sandwich had been swapped for a cheese flavor.

He flipped through the notes his great-grandfather had given him while listening to Gotoh report the day's training schedule, only closing the book and glancing at the butler when he heard the title "Master" mentioned.

"Master Silva called to say he will be home tonight and will personally test you first thing tomorrow morning."

The young butler adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, adding with a hint of worry, "Therefore, I suggest you cancel today's training schedule, Master, and spend the day resting to ensure you are in peak condition."

The training schedule was set in stone; without Silva's word, who would dare to cancel it?

Roy finished his sandwich, pulled out a napkin, and wiped his mouth in a leisurely manner: "No need. Tell Luke to wait for me in the training hall; it remains to be seen whether he can even knock me out today."

As he spoke, he glanced at his panel.

[Constitution: 12.05 → 13.05]

After several days of practicing Sun Breathing...

He had successfully increased it by one point, equivalent to the strength of another ordinary person, which meant...

He could hold out even longer.