"And our ultimate goal is..."
Isshin paused, enunciating every word clearly. "To seize victory by any means necessary. To exhaust every available tool and technique in battle to achieve your objective. For victory, for survival, for protecting what matters—your thinking cannot be rigid."
"Take this flintlock in my hand, for example." He looked at Motoya, his tone flat. "In your eyes, it might be a cheap trick, a firearm. But in my eyes, according to the principles of the Ashina Style... It is a sword!"
Isshin continued, as if stating the most natural fact in the world. "Its construction is an extension of a sword's anatomy. Firing it is simply another form of thrusting and slashing. The fire and lead it spits are the edge and power of the blade projected over a distance. The method of using it, the timing, the coordination with your body's movements—the 'Way' contained within it is fundamentally no different from wielding a real sword."
"Therefore, marksmanship is also swordsmanship, and the bullet's trajectory is also the Way of the Sword!"
Motoya was completely stunned. His brain practically short-circuited.
A flintlock is a sword? Marksmanship is swordsmanship? The trajectory is the Way of the Sword?
His teacher's words completely overturned everything he thought he knew about martial arts and weaponry.
Then, Motoya heard his teacher utter something that sounded profoundly mystical yet strangely logical: "All things in creation possess their own logic, and thus, all things can become a sword. When you have no sword in hand but possess the principle of the sword in your heart, then grass, trees, bamboo, and stones can all be your blade. When you lack the principle of the sword in your heart, even the greatest divine weapon is nothing more than a dead lump of iron. What matters is not clinging to the form of the sword, but comprehending the method to wield all things."
This philosophy of "everything is a sword" and "the formless sword defeats the formed sword" went completely over the head of Motoya, who had only just stepped into this world and hadn't even systematically studied standard swordsmanship yet. He only half-understood it.
But looking at his teacher's solemn, profound gaze, and seeing how naturally he handled the flintlock—as if man and weapon were one—all of Motoya's doubts dissolved into an even deeper sense of shock and reverence.
So this is the Ashina Style? Can true martial arts and the 'Way' really encompass something so vast?
Though still confused, an inexplicable sense of absolute conviction rose in Motoya's heart.
If Teacher says so, it must be right! The Ashina Style is exactly as I thought—completely different from any other school of swordsmanship!
"Yes! Teacher, I understand!" Motoya nodded vigorously, burning his teacher's words into his memory, even though he would need a long time to slowly digest their deeper meaning.
---
A few days later, inside the Seishin Meichi Style dojo.
Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting neat geometric patches on the floor. The faint scent of polished wood and sweat hung in the air.
Yagyu Souichirou let out a low shout. His iron staff tore through the air, carrying a heavy howl of wind as it thrust straight forward. It was the Seishin Meichi Style's orthodox, straightforward, yet devastatingly powerful opening stance.
Isshin shifted his footwork, drawing his katana half an inch from its sheath as if to parry.
However, just as the two were about to enter standard weapon-clashing range, Isshin's right hand—which had been resting on his hilt—suddenly slipped downward in an incredibly smooth, fluid motion, as if casually dropping to his side...
And then, moving like lightning, he whipped something out from the small of his back!
It was, shockingly, a crudely modified flintlock with a noticeably extended barrel!
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
A rapid string of ear-splitting detonations shattered the solemn atmosphere of the dojo!
Scorching muzzle flashes erupted as five lead bullets shot directly toward Yagyu Souichirou!
The distance was too close. The speed was too fast.
"What the hell is that?!"
Yagyu Souichirou's pupils shrank to pinpricks. He hadn't expected this kind of bullshit at all.
In that critical moment, his vast combat experience and superhuman reflexes saved his life.
His forward-charging momentum abruptly halted. He rooted his feet into the ground, twisting his waist and core. Instead of thrusting, the iron staff in his hands blurred into a dome of black shadows, shielding his entire body!
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! THWIP!
Four crisp metallic impacts and one muffled tear echoed almost simultaneously!
Four bullets were precisely deflected by the iron staff, leaving deep dents and showering sparks across the dojo's floor and walls. The final bullet grazed his shoulder, tearing away a shred of fabric from his robes.
Although he had blocked them, the flintlock had clearly been specially modified by its owner. The massive kinetic impact of the bullets made Yagyu Souichirou sway, forcing him to take two involuntary steps back to stabilize himself.
A burning, stinging pain radiated from his grazed shoulder. But what fueled his towering rage even more was this completely rule-breaking, dishonorable method of attack!
"You bastard brat!!!" Yagyu Souichirou roared after steadying his stance. His face was beet red, his hair practically standing on end. He leveled his iron staff at Isshin, his voice loud enough to blow the roof off the dojo:
"Have you no martial ethics?! We agreed to a sword spar! How the hell can you use a flintlock?! What kind of duel is this?!"
(Note: Firearms are not a novelty in the shinobi world, having existed for nearly a century. However, in a world where the supernatural power system of chakra is mainstream, they have always struggled to gain respect. They are typically only equipped by ordinary soldiers, local security forces, and underground syndicates. While their power poses a threat to Genin, they are clumsy and inefficient against Chunin and above, who possess various defensive and evasive techniques. Thus, orthodox shinobi look down on them. Furthermore, in the Land of Iron, which places extreme importance on the inheritance of swordsmanship and the samurai spirit, even ordinary soldiers are ashamed to carry them, viewing them as unrefined, cheap tricks.)
Yagyu Souichirou had never dreamed that one day, he would see a young swordsman he acknowledged—and sparred with multiple times—pull out this kind of garbage in a fair and honorable sword duel!
And judging by the sound, the muzzle velocity, and the impact force, this was clearly no standard-issue weapon. It had absolutely been specially modified and reinforced by this bastard brat standing in front of him!
During his early years traveling the shinobi world, Yagyu had seen all kinds of firearms, but standard guns definitely didn't possess this kind of power and speed.
"President, you're getting caught up in superficial appearances!" Facing the furious Yagyu Souichirou, Isshin's expression remained perfectly natural.
"As the saying goes: Marksmanship is also swordsmanship, and the trajectory is also the Way of the Sword."
"Me using this flintlock and you using that iron staff are fundamentally no different. We're all just exchanging sword techniques here!"
"We are both channeling our own strength through the medium of a tool, releasing it in the form of specific techniques to defeat the enemy or exchange pointers."
Isshin spread his hands, his expression a mix of innocence and a hint of disappointment.
"I thought that a Sword Master like you, who wields a staff, would have long since transcended the restrictive forms of standard swords and blades. I thought you had grasped the true essence of the Way of the Sword: Weapons have no high or low ranking; whichever one works is the best."
"I never expected... sigh... President, it seems you are still trapped by those rigid, inflexible rules."
Yagyu Souichirou: "......."
I really want to bash your head in with this staff...
...
While Isshin's clone had acquired his signature weapon and was flamboyantly spreading his Ashina Style swordsmanship across the Land of Iron...
Time continued to quietly flow, and faint ripples were gradually beginning to stir across the peaceful surface of the shinobi world.