Chapter 12: Is It Too Hurtful to Him? [Please Continue Reading]

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In a secluded alley, scarcely any pedestrians passed by.

Beneath a black streetlamp, two figures stood several meters apart, each drawing a bamboo sword and assuming their starting stances.

"Please!"

Junichi’s low shout instantly shattered the silence. His form blurred, the bamboo sword in his hand darting out like a swift serpent, its fierce strike accompanied by a rushing wind.

Snap!

In the next moment, Junichi stared dumbfounded at the bamboo sword that had slipped from his grasp and fallen to the ground.

When did that happen?

“Want to try again?”

“Again!” Junichi gritted his teeth, picked up the bamboo sword, and clenched it tightly.

He had held back earlier to test his opponent; if he had attacked with full force, he would never have…

Snap!

The bamboo sword fell from his hand once more.

After a few rolls, it came to rest at Junichi’s feet. He stood there bewildered for a long while before his knees bent and he sank half-kneeling to the ground, staring blankly at his bamboo sword.

How could this be?

At Isshin Dojo, he was the strongest among his peers in the past two years, almost commanding the status of senior disciple. Sometimes, he even assisted Master Kōshirō by teaching the younger students.

If not for that…

He wouldn’t have been so confident to come alone across the sea to Sakurajima, attempting to win the Kendo Tournament and restore the prestige of the Sakura Academy.

But...

The burly youth opposite him was two years younger.

Yet his mastery of swordsmanship had already reached a level Junichi could neither understand nor foresee, like an insurmountable mountain.

Just one move—only one move—

And Junichi was utterly defeated, without even the chance to discern the trajectory of his opponent’s blade or mount a defense.

At that moment,

He seemed to hear his confidence in Kendo shatter like broken glass, cracking bit by bit.

His opponent.

Siano sheathed his bamboo sword and swept a glance over Junichi’s reaction, taking everything in.

Tsk, was this a bit too harsh?

But telling him the truth now—that he actually knew nothing about swordsmanship—would be even more hurtful.

Better to wait until after the match, if the chance came, to explain everything.

“It’s time to go.”

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Siano gently patted Junichi’s shoulder in consolation, then led the way toward the inn.

Along the road,

Junichi remained lost in the shock, his head hung low in silence. Siano, meanwhile, focused on the system panel he had just opened, his eyes thoughtful.

[Name: Siano]

[Age: 13 years]

[Height: 176 cm]

[Strength: 2.2]

[Agility: 2.0]

[Stamina: 2.1]

[Mental Power: 1.4]

This was the first time he checked his current stats after finishing his arduous training session that afternoon.

All the basic attributes had significantly increased compared to before his breakthrough.

“2.0 seems to be a crucial threshold. Those who can surpass it are no longer on the same level as ordinary people around this sea,” Siano concluded.

Setting aside the largest gap in strength compared to Junichi,

Just his muscle reaction speed and dynamic vision were on an entirely different plane.

From the moment Junichi struck until the thrust, every move appeared as if slowed down in Siano’s eyes.

Frame by frame, he could always find the perfect moment to pause time, shift from defense to offense, and break his opponent’s attack.

In manga, the duel between Zoro and Hawk-Eye at the Baratie restaurant was somewhat similar.

Before Hawk-Eye drew his black sword to show respect, the skirmish with small blades was hardly a true duel between swordsmen.

Zoro thought Hawk-Eye’s swordsmanship was too extraordinary, able to easily defeat him even with a small knife.

But from Hawk-Eye’s perspective, much like Siano defeating Junichi now, it had nothing to do with swordsmanship—it was a higher-level species striking down a mere human.

Whether the small knife was replaced by a toothpick or a finger made no difference.

Such an overwhelming gap allowed one strike to overcome myriad techniques.

...

Siano closed the system panel and glanced back at the thin youth trailing behind them like a shadow passing through, pondering in his heart.

“Although Junichi has been immersed in Kendo since childhood and is somewhat single-minded, he’s not clueless.”

“His desire to compete for the championship isn’t empty talk; he truly has that confidence.”

If he could easily defeat Junichi with his overwhelming physique in a single move,

Then the gap between him and the other contestants must be just as vast.

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After all, the East Sea was the weakest sea.

There wasn’t even a single true swordmaster left there.

No matter what dark horse emerged in this year’s Kendo Tournament, Siano should be able to handle them effortlessly without revealing his own clumsy swordsmanship.

Just delaying for one day would net him five million Beli without effort, and he could even help Junichi—a clear win-win.

———

A day and two nights passed in a flash.

In the blink of an eye, the day of the tournament arrived.

At seven in the morning, Junichi finished preparing and stepped out of his room to find a lone figure already training in the empty courtyard below the inn.

“Three hundred, three hundred and one... Huh, you’re awake.”

Siano stood with legs together, flipped back with a snap, landing firmly, then wiped sweat from his brow with a towel, smiling. “I’ve got all my gear ready too. Shall we go?”

“Yeah!” Junichi nodded firmly.

Since the night before last, his mindset had gradually recovered.

Especially seeing Siano train alone by the sea from dawn until midnight, that kind of dedication even earned Junichi’s admiration.

If the other had endured such hardships all his life and possessed a natural talent for swordsmanship, then being defeated in one move didn’t seem so hard to accept.

Junichi took a deep breath, his eyes bright as he gazed toward the distant massive banner barely visible.

He could no longer compete with Mr. Siano for the championship, but today was a day he had long dreamed of—he had his own battle to fight!

...

Sakurajima’s north slopes down to the south, with seven main Dojos all located in the northern city, lined up along the terrain, converging at the end in the city center’s expansive crescent-shaped plaza.

The plaza was already bustling with people.

Nearly a hundred temporary wooden platforms were scattered about, registration lines stretched long, and staff in dojo uniforms hurried busily.

Huge banners hung from the four corners, pale pink decorations everywhere, and cherry blossoms drifting on the breeze created a rich festive atmosphere.

On the second floor of a nearby café, two cups of cappuccino steamed on a table.

“The kid’s here,” said the tall swordsman wearing a white fox mask at the round table’s right side, glancing at Junichi who was following Siano into the plaza.

“Yeah, I see him.”

The middle-aged man opposite him, dressed in luxurious attire, cast a brief look before withdrawing his gaze.

He tapped his index finger lightly on the table and said calmly, “That muscular guy with him—he doesn’t look old. Have we found out who he is yet?”