In the afternoon, on that usually deserted gravel hillside outside Sunagakure, the wind still blew, whipping up dry dust that rustled against the exposed rocks.
Shira held the longsword, which she had carefully maintained since returning from Konoha, and stood in her usual spot.
The sword's blade, bathed in the dim sunlight, gleamed with a restrained, cold light.
Coach Kenmei had arrived. He was still wearing that faded gray training uniform, the sleeves fluttering gently in the wind—one sleeve was empty, neatly gathered below the elbow.
He stood firmly, his only remaining right hand gripping the sword, its tip pointing diagonally to the ground, his gaze calm as he watched Shira approach him.
"Teacher." Shira stopped a few steps away and bowed slightly.
Kenmei nodded without speaking, but slowly raised the sword in his hand, assuming a basic starting stance.
The meaning is clear: Begin.
Shira took a deep breath, the rhythm of the Seven Heavens Breathing Method quietly flowing, but he did not activate it. Sparring with Teacher Kenmei was more about honing swordsmanship skills, distance awareness, and coping experience; normal techniques were sufficient.
He adopted the same starting stance, his gaze fixed on Teacher Kenmei's seemingly casual yet flawless posture.
The wind stopped for a moment.
It moved!
Shira launched the first attack! He knew that against Master Kenmei, a counterattack might not be enough. He pushed off with his feet, leaping forward, his longsword transforming into a streak of cold light, thrusting straight at Kenmei's center!
The speed, angle, and force were all more composed and swift than before the trip to Konoha, which was the result of countless basic training sessions and actual combat experience.
Without moving his body, Master Kenmei merely flicked his left wrist, raising his longsword at an extremely subtle angle.
With a crisp clang of metal, Shira felt a gentle yet irresistible force, easily deflecting her thrusting sword and leaving her chest slightly exposed.
Alarm bells rang in his mind, and he immediately retreated to defend. However, Kenmei's sword seemed to have been waiting there all along, following the force of the sweeping motion, and slashed down towards his wrist, which he couldn't retract in time!
Fast! Accurate! Ruthless! The angle was so tricky it sent chills down my spine!
Shira gritted her teeth, forcibly twisted her body, and with a flick of her wrist, barely managed to parry with the spine of her sword.
"Clang!"
An even greater force surged through him, numbing his arm and forcing him to stagger back two steps before regaining his footing. Master Kenmei followed him like a shadow, his sword light, delivered with a single arm, relentlessly piercing Shira's vital points like a persistent, insidious wound.
With each parry, Shira could feel the terrifying control and exquisite understanding of generating, borrowing, and deflecting force contained within those seemingly effortless sword moves!
Shira fought with all her might, using the practical swordsmanship that Kenmei had taught her, as well as what she had figured out on her own during this time.
Sometimes he would confront me head-on, trying to overcome skill with brute force; other times he would maneuver and seek opportunities to counterattack. But Teacher Kenmei was like an insurmountable mountain, and also like a quagmire from which he could not escape.
His swordplay was extremely concise, without a single superfluous movement, yet he always managed to block Shira's attacks first, forcing him into an even more precarious situation.
Several times, Shira thought she had seized an opportunity and thrust out her sword, only to have it deflected or veered off course in an unbelievable way, plunging herself into an even greater crisis.
Sweat quickly soaked his back, and his breathing became rapid. He knew that he was still being completely suppressed, just like before.
You're all sweaty, bro! Hehehe!
But as the fight went on, the anxiety that had been building up to no avail in Shira's heart gradually subsided.
He no longer focused solely on hitting his opponent, but instead began to observe more intently, observing how Master Kenmei's only right arm exerted force, how his footwork coordinated with the subtle shifts in his body's center of gravity, and the subsequent changes implied by each tremor of the sword tip.
He began to try to anticipate the situation and respond with smaller movements to conserve energy.
After a fierce exchange of blows, the two separated again. Shira was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling slightly, and her hand holding the sword trembled a little.
Teacher Kenmei's breathing remained steady, though a few fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
He didn't continue his attack, but looked at Shira, remained silent for a few seconds, then slowly sheathed his sword and nodded.
"There's been progress."