A swordsman.
All his skill lay in swordsmanship and in the body he had honed day after day, night after night.
Miyamoto faced Lin Qing's oppressive presence head-on, his expression still cold and stern.
"From the moment I first took up a blade, I knew that to win, I had to remain absolutely calm in every fight."
Click.
Miyamoto pushed the guard with his thumb. At his waist, one long sword and one short sword slid slowly from their sheaths, their clear, lingering ring like a drop of water falling into an ancient well.
Miyamoto's gray-white eyes rippled for an instant, and then—
A landslide and a tsunami!
Just the motion of drawing his swords made everyone seem to see surging wildfires, crashing thunder, and a hurricane whipping up towering waves.
His battle spirit roared as Miyamoto quietly watched Lin Qing.
"I've heard many people call you 'invincible.'"
He took a step forward and said softly:
"By coincidence, so am I."
Miyamoto turned his wrist, angling his blade. It cut through the wind and closed the distance between him and Lin Qing.
"Niten Ichi-ryu: Godspeed!"
A thunderous boom rang out.
The ground beneath Miyamoto's feet cracked, the air exploded, and the streetlights flickered. In that instant, as the lights shifted from bright to dark—
Miyamoto appeared right before Lin Qing.
He raised his long sword high. Power traveled through his body, shoulder, and arm before gathering in the blade. It came down with the might to split mountains and part seas!
"Niten Ichi-ryu: Iron Cutter!"
It was only a slender katana. The motion was only a simple downward slash. Yet, for some reason, in everyone's eyes it became unbearably heavy, like a mountain crashing down.
The sense of slowness did not come from the blade's descent. It was the natural