Swordsmith, Haganezuka Hotaru

Kaigaku was in despair, like a climber who was just one step away from conquering a tall mountain, but at that moment, all his efforts, no, all his performance, had gone to waste.

He stood up and stumbled past the old man and Shota, his heart now encased in a thick cocoon of resentment, in addition to his selfishness.

But all of this was the result of his own doing, though a selfish person would never blame themselves.

As night fell, Kaigaku left Mount Peach Town in a daze, hating the place with all his heart.

Hiruma was slowly heading home. The old man sat by the entrance, his head bowed, chin resting on his hands, his feelings a complex mess as he began to doubt his ability to judge people.

For a moment, the old man considered giving up on taking on any more disciples.

"Hiruma!" the old man suddenly called out his disciple's name. He rarely did that, startling Hiruma.

"Did you call Shota and the others?"

"Ahahaha, what are you talking about, old man? I don't know!" Hiruma scratched the back of his head, feeling extremely guilty under the old man's sharp gaze.

However, the old man's next words left Hiruma dumbfounded.

"You smile when you lie, and that smile is different from your usual one!"

"Sigh!" Hiruma was exasperated. When did the old man start reading micro-expressions? Why don't you become a psychologist?

"Yeah, Kaigaku is really not a good guy. I'm looking out for you, you know!" He sat down beside the old man and started comforting him, "But you have to trust your own judgment of people."

"Kaigaku was just too good at acting; it's not your fault!"

He then pointed to himself, boasting without missing a beat, "Look at me, not just my talent, but my character is top-notch too!"

"This just shows it's not your fault at all!"

"If it doesn't work out, let's practice more from now on!"

What he said made sense, and the old man knew his disciple was trying to comfort him, but something still felt off.

Soon, he realized that the kid was actually lecturing him. He delivered a chop to Hiruma's head and said irritably:

"You good-for-nothing, you're lecturing me now!"

"Who's the master here, you or me, you little brat!"

The more the old man spoke, the more wrong it felt. Did this kid just try to pat my head?

So, he stopped thinking too much, grabbed his wooden sword, and went after Hiruma, determined to let the brat know who was in charge of the house.

Hiruma easily dodged, looking at the old man in bewilderment.

"You want me to practice more? I've met more people than you've eaten meals."

"Also, why involve those kids if you have something to say? Why not say it directly?"

"Did you practice your sword today?"

"Aaaah—" Hiruma stretched out his cry, running away while complaining, "Old man, I eat three bowls of rice a day, maybe I've met more people than you have."

"Rebellious disciple, how dare you talk back! Stop right there!"

The old man's usual swift and explosive temper returned, and the light in his eyes was restored.

Mount Peach remained as it was, the elder chasing the younger.

Kaigaku's appearance was just a small interlude in Hiruma's life. Anyway, he wouldn't affect the old man anymore. As for how that guy would fare on his own, Hiruma didn't care.

If that guy were to become a demon again, he'd just cut him down. He didn't even consider Kaigaku a threat.

October arrived, and the autumn chill deepened. The leaves gradually turned yellow, and with the autumn breeze, they fluttered down from the branches like dancing butterflies, gently covering the ground and forming a thick, golden carpet.

Mount Peach was bathed in a golden hue, like a golden ocean.

Along the mountain path paved with fallen leaves, a tall and imposing figure was slowly ascending. He wore a red Hannya mask and carried a Nichirin Blade in his arms.

"Jingle!"

The wind chimes hanging from the brim of his hat made a crisp sound, which, accompanied by the rustling of leaves underfoot, was exceptionally pleasant.

The man's posture with the sword was peculiar, as if he were holding his child, displaying immense tenderness.

Haganezuka Hotaru, from the Swordsmith Village, a peculiar and obsessive sword enthusiast who would relentlessly hunt down anyone who damaged a Nichirin Blade.

He arrived at the small wooden house halfway up the mountain, knocked on the door, and then stood waiting quietly, holding his sword.

"Who is it?"

"Hello... you... Whoa!" As soon as the door opened, Hiruma couldn't even speak properly. Startled, he quickly shut the door.

Haganezuka Hotaru frowned, thinking the guy was incredibly rude.

Soon, the door opened again, and Hiruma enthusiastically invited Haganezuka Hotaru in.

Pastries and tea were served, as he was afraid of offending this venerable guest, and even more afraid that he might suddenly pull out a kitchen knife from his embrace.

Haganezuka Hotaru still held his sword tightly, his scrutinizing gaze piercing out from beneath the Hannya mask, openly observing Hiruma.

His gaze was like that of a father about to send his daughter off to marriage, but it was as if he were facing Blondie, and the father's heart was broken.

"Hahaha!" Hiruma let out a laugh to cover his embarrassment. "Can I have the sword now?"

"Name?" Haganezuka Hotaru asked, ignoring the question and instead interrogating him.

"Tendo Hiruma!"

"Your address?"

"Mount Peach?" Hiruma felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles, with eyes on his back. Big brother, you've come to Mount Peach, do you still need to ask?

"Are you sure you can protect this sword?"

Hiruma: "???"

Shouldn't the sword protect me?

"I'm sure!" Hiruma nodded like a pecking chicken, his eyes filled with unquestionable determination.

"Mm!" Haganezuka Hotaru nodded, his attitude was good, he seemed like someone trustworthy.

"Here you go!" He reluctantly handed the sword to Hiruma, who carefully reached out to take it.

And so, a tug-of-war began.

"No, big brother, let go!"

"I'm letting go!" Haganezuka Hotaru said very seriously, gripping the scabbard, "If you can't even take it like this, you should just stay here and retire."

He muttered softly, his sword must be given to a strong swordsman, otherwise it would be tarnished.

"Then please excuse me!" Hiruma hadn't dared to exert his full strength earlier for fear of being chopped by a kitchen knife, but now that the other party had spoken, he had no choice but to give it his all.

Soon, Haganezuka Hotaru experienced a roller coaster ride. By the time he came to his senses, the sword was already in Hiruma's hand.

"Damn it!"

"Can't you be gentler? Are you trying to break the sword?"

Bastard! (What the hell?!)

Saying that, he reached into his embrace.

Hiruma quickly pressed his hand down, thinking, Didn't you tell me to use force?

"Stop, stop, stop!"

"Since the Nichirin Blade is in my hands, I will definitely not let it be tarnished."

"Don't you want to see what this sword, known as the 'color-changing blade,' will become in my hands?"

Hearing this, Haganezuka Hotaru calmed down, his eyes fixed intently on Hiruma.

Hiruma gripped the hilt and skillfully drew the sword.