"Now that's interesting. This sword strike already contains a hint of the Dao."
Cloud raised both hands. In the instant before Haohmaru's blade could touch his head, he made a simple motion.
His hands traced a mysterious trajectory through the air, then at a speed no one could follow, precisely—clasped together!
CLANG!!!
A sound like a great temple bell rang through the skies.
Haohmaru's strike capable of slaying gods and demons was caught between Cloud's palms—bare hand catching white blade—held perfectly still!
The blade's edge stopped less than a centimeter from Cloud's forehead.
The sharp sword energy made his black hair dance wildly, yet couldn't advance a single fraction further!
Haohmaru maintained his downward strike posture, every muscle in his body trembling. He used every ounce of strength he possessed, but Fugudoku seemed welded in place—completely immovable.
He stared blankly at Cloud, mere inches away.
The other man still wore that calm, breezy smile.
Haohmaru's brain completely crashed.
Who am I? Where am I? What did I just do?
My Tenha Fuujin Zan... was... was caught barehanded?
This isn't science! This isn't swordsmanship! This is just cheating!
In that moment, Haohmaru felt the swordsmanship worldview he'd built over decades crumbling.
He was like a top student who'd worked his ass off to become provincial champion, only to suddenly discover that the class slacker who slept through every lesson had casually won an International Olympiad gold medal and proven the Goldbach Conjecture on the side.
The helplessness of that dimensional crushing nearly made him cough up blood.
"Three moves are up." Cloud smiled and released his hands.
Haohmaru stumbled back several steps as if all strength had been drained from him, plopping down on the ground. Fugudoku clattered beside him.
He stared at his own hands with a lost expression, then looked at Cloud, muttering: "Monster... you're definitely a monster..."
"I concede." Cloud walked over, picked up Fugudoku from the ground, and returned it to him. "Your sword is impressive. Especially that last strike—it's not just technique anymore, but a manifestation of conviction. It gave me some insight into this thing called swordsmanship."
Hearing Cloud's assessment, Haohmaru suddenly looked up. His eyes no longer held defeat, but the excitement of meeting a kindred spirit: "You... you understood it?"
"A little." Cloud said modestly (humbly bragging). "Using your own conviction as a guide, completely unifying spirit, energy, mind, and technique to unleash a strike that surpasses your limits. While you're on the right path, your conviction isn't pure enough yet, and your power is too scattered. If you could concentrate all your strength into the blade's single point, the power could increase tenfold."
Cloud's words were a "higher-dimensional critique" of the Tenha Fuujin Zan, delivered from his elevated perspective combined with the theory behind Kyo Kusanagi's "Final Battle Art: Mu Shiki" from the KOF world.
Yet to Haohmaru's ears, these words were nothing short of enlightenment!
"Concentrate on a single point... conviction not pure enough..." Haohmaru chewed on these phrases repeatedly, his eyes blazing with unprecedented light. He felt the bottleneck that had always blocked him finally showing signs of loosening!
He shot to his feet and bowed deeply to Cloud with utmost solemnity.
"I've learned much! May I ask your honored name? I, Haohmaru, will remember this guidance forever!"
His attitude now was completely different from before. This was a pure martial artist's heartfelt respect for someone of a higher realm.
"Cloud." Cloud gave his name and patted Haohmaru's shoulder. "Don't be so formal—let's just be friends. I'm more interested in your sake."
"Hahahaha!" Hearing this, Haohmaru swept away his earlier dejection, returning to his bold nature. He grabbed the sake gourd from the ground, pulled out the stopper, took a huge swig, then handed it to Cloud.
"Friends! Well said! Meeting someone as strong as you is my honor! Come, drink!"
Cloud didn't stand on ceremony. He took the gourd and tilted his head back for a swig. The spicy liquor burned down his throat like a line of fire, yet carried a unique fragrance.
"Good sake!"
"Good drinker!"
The two men looked at each other and laughed. The earlier tension had completely evaporated.
Nakoruru, watching this classic "friends through fighting" scene from the side, shook her head helplessly, though a happy smile graced her beautiful face.
And so, the Amakusa subjugation party gained another powerful (directionally-challenged) swordsman.
Cloud's initial objective was also achieved—successfully establishing a "friendly" relationship with one of this world's core characters.
He looked at his companions on either side—one a nature priestess gazing at him with adoring eyes, the other a bold swordsman he'd just "educated" who was now enthusiastically slinging an arm around his shoulders—and couldn't help but reflect.
This otherworld opening... seemed to be going much smoother than expected.
He was already looking forward to which "old friend" he'd encounter next.
...
Where three travel together, one must be directionally-challenged.
After Haohmaru joined the party, this truth was perfectly demonstrated.
He was like a walking "reverse GPS," always finding a path to another dimension at the most impossible places to get lost.
"I swear, I remember there was a bridge up ahead last time I came through here!" Haohmaru declared confidently, pointing at the rushing river before them.
Cloud face-palmed, too tired to retort: "Bro, according to Nakoruru's hawk Mamahaha's aerial reconnaissance, we've circled this mountain three times already. That bridge you mentioned was probably built in a dream—virtual reality infrastructure project."
Nakoruru covered her mouth, giggling, then gently mediated: "It's okay, Lord Haohmaru. Let's head west—there's a main road that goes straight to Kyoto."
"Right, right! West!" Haohmaru slapped his thigh, confidence instantly restored, then without hesitation... strode off toward the east.
Cloud: "..."
Nakoruru: "..."
...
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