"His basic strength, reaction speed, muscle density... they've all reached an inconceivable level." Shinjuro clenched his fists, his shock beyond measure. "Is this kid a monster wearing human skin?"
In the center of the training hall, Rokuya casually twirled his sword, shedding the heat lingering on the wooden blade. A gentle smile curved his lips. "Not bad, Kyojuro. Your swordsmanship has improved quite a bit again. Your power flows more smoothly, and your bursts of flame are more concentrated. It seems you haven't neglected your training despite your heavy workload lately."
Yet Kyojuro did not respond to Rokuya's praise with his usual signature hearty laugh. He slowly straightened, gripped the hilt again with both hands, and fixed a blazing gaze on Rokuya, his expression frighteningly grave.
"Senior Takanashi!" Kyojuro's voice was so loud that the surrounding leaves trembled slightly. "Thank you very much for your guidance! But-"
He drew a deep breath, and flame-like fighting spirit rose from his body once more. "You've been on the defensive this whole time. No matter how much strength I use, no matter how tricky my techniques are, you counter them with nothing but the most basic movements!"
"I know there's a gulf between my strength and yours, but if all I do is attack a mountain that never strikes back, I'll never break through my limits!"
A resolute light burned in Kyojuro's eyes. He abruptly stepped forward and pleaded loudly, "So please stop defending! Attack me! Please use your true strength, even if it's only for a single strike, and let me see the view from your summit!"
His words rang out with conviction, echoing through the spacious training hall.
Rokuya paused briefly. Looking at the yearning and defiance in Kyojuro's eyes, he could not help feeling a trace of respect deep inside.