Special training

"Boom!!!"

A deafening thunderclap erupted halfway up Mount Momoyama.

Rokuya saw a dazzling burst of golden light before his eyes. It was the ultimate sword draw, surpassing the speed of sound! There were no flashy movements, only an instantaneous explosion from stillness to maximum speed!

There was not even an afterimage!

When Rokuya's eyes focused again, Jigoro Kuwajima was already standing behind a massive boulder more than ten meters away, holding the pose of sheathing his sword.

A scorched black trail marked the ground between the old man and Rokuya.

"Crack..."

After a brief delay, the upper half of the boulder, so large it would take two people to encircle it with their arms, slid off with a crash. The cut was as smooth as a mirror.

Ultimate speed, ultimate sharpness!

Rokuya stood where he was, his heartbeat quickening uncontrollably. His system panel seemed to sense its host's emotions as well, flickering faintly in his mind.

If... if I combined that leg-driven power with Demon Form's charge. If I could close the distance at that speed the instant I activated the "Single-Target Critical Strike Rule"...

That would be an absolutely unavoidable killing blow!

"Well, brat?" Jigoro Kuwajima turned around and looked at Rokuya, who stood frozen in place, a smug smile spreading across his face. "Still think it's nothing much?"

Rokuya came back to his senses. He took a deep breath, then did something the old man had not expected.

He bent slightly at the waist toward Jigoro Kuwajima. It was not a humble bow, but a warrior's acknowledgment of someone strong.

"Old man, that move of yours is powerful." Rokuya straightened up. The laziness in his eyes was gone, replaced by utter seriousness and yearning. "Teach me! Whatever it takes, I want to learn how to generate power like that!"

Looking into Rokuya's eyes, which seemed ready to burst into flame, Jigoro Kuwajima froze for a moment, then let out a hearty laugh.

"Hahahaha! Good! Good lad! That's the spirit!"

The old man struck the ground hard with his cane. "Since Urokodaki entrusted you to me, and since you've witnessed the might of thunder and still dare to stay, I'll take you on as a transfer student!"

The smile vanished from the old man's face in an instant, replaced by an even more terrifying sternness.

"But listen carefully, brat. My training is true hell. I'll break down those cumbersome muscles of yours and rebuild them. I'll make you experience the agony of being struck by lightning every single day. If you can't take it, get back to Mount Sagiri before you waste my time!"

Rokuya grinned arrogantly, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

"Then let's give it a try."

The wind swept over Mount Momoyama, stirring up a few fallen leaves.

Takanashi Rokuno's thunder-and-fire special training officially began.

Mornings on Mount Momoyama always came with deafening booms.

"Boom-!"

A bolt of golden lightning flashed across the crater-pocked training ground. With a piercing sound of tearing, a faint scorched smell spread through the air. Like a rampaging beast, the golden light shot more than thirty meters in a straight line before slamming into a waist-high rock.

"Bang!"

Stone fragments scattered, and dust flew.

As the dust cleared, Takanashi Rokuno held his sword-drawing stance. The wooden sword in his hand was embedded deep in the rock's surface, but it had not split the rock in two as he had done to the sword-testing boulder on Mount Sagiri.

"Out... in..." Rokuya slowly exhaled a faintly warm white breath, his brows tightly furrowed. He looked down at his slightly trembling hands, then at the rock, which bore only a five-inch-deep gash. A trace of irritation flashed through his eyes.

"Too weak," Rokuya muttered, then pulled out the wooden sword and casually rested it on his shoulder.

"You little brat! What are you standing around for?!"

Accompanying the furious shout, a rough wooden cane whistled sharply through the air and struck the back of Rokuya's head with perfect accuracy.

"Thonk!"

The blow sent Rokuya stumbling forward. Rubbing his head, he turned around and found himself face-to-face with Jigoro Kuwajima's aged face, flushed red with agitation.

Though the old man leaned on a cane and his right leg was a wooden prosthesis, the pressure he exuded was no less imposing than in his days as the Rumble Hashira. His eyes wide, he stared fixedly at Rokuya as though looking at a monster, his chest heaving.

"Old man, why did you hit me again?" Rokuya pursed his lips and brushed the dust off his clothes.

"Why did I hit you? It's that insatiable attitude of yours I'm beating, you little bastard!" Jigoro Kuwajima jabbed his cane hard against the ground and pointed at the gashed rock, his voice trembling. "Just one week... one single week! And you've already mastered the essence of generating power for Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash! Do you have any idea that an ordinary swordsman might spend three years and still not even reach the threshold of Thunder Breathing?!"

At this point, a suspicious glimmer of tears even appeared at the corners of Jigoro Kuwajima's eyes. Heaven knew what shocks he had experienced over the past seven days. This boy who had arrived with a letter of recommendation from Sakonji Urokodaki had a constitution so powerful it hardly seemed human. His muscle density and explosive strength surpassed even a demon's. After Jigoro had taught him everything about Thunder Breathing's secret of concentrating power in the legs, Rokuya had needed only seven days to produce that streak of golden lightning belonging to Thunder Breathing!

What a terrifying talent!

"But it's less powerful." Ignoring the old man's excitement, Rokuya went straight to the heart of the problem. "Old man, look for yourself. If I'd swung my sword normally, this lousy rock would already be rubble. But with the 'Thunderclap and Flash' you taught me, my speed did more than triple, yet all the impact was concentrated in my legs. The instant I charged, I couldn't transfer my upper body's core strength perfectly into the blade at all. The force of my swing dropped by at least forty percent."

Rokuya was deeply displeased.

In his previous life, he had relied on Daddy Kai's stats to get by. The passive that granted "50% additional damage against a single target" was all about the ultimate aesthetic of brute force: one slash left the target dead or crippled. Now his speed had increased, but his attacks had become feeble. How could he stand that?

"What do you know, you little brat?!" Jigoro Kuwajima was so angry his mustache bristled. "The essence of Thunder Breathing is the ultimate sword-drawing art! You use the tremendous speed generated by your legs to sever the enemy's head before they can react! As long as you're fast enough, the momentum of the charge naturally makes the blade incomparably sharp! You're always thinking of hacking away with brute force. If you force your upper body to exert strength while moving at high speed, you'll only destroy your balance!"

"Balance?" Rokuya narrowed his eyes.

The old man was right. Thunder Breathing forced the entire body's blood and oxygen into the leg muscles in an instant. As a result, when he charged, his body was like a bullet leaving the barrel, only able to travel in a straight line. During such an incredibly fast straight-line charge, if he tried to twist his waist and hips as usual and use his shoulders to drive his arms into a heavy slash, he would instantly lose control of his footing, and his whole body would go flying.

He could not turn, and his attack power was dispersed. In actual combat against demons with bizarre Blood Demon Arts, those were extremely deadly vulnerabilities.