After introducing Himura Kenshin, Akihiro Arakawa went to rest, while Soma and Himura Kenshin headed to the training ground.
Himura Kenshin drew a wooden sword from the weapon rack and looked at Soma. "Arakawa just told me about your situation. So, let's begin."
Clearly, for Himura Kenshin, the best way to spar was through actual combat.
Soma felt no fear—if anything, he was a little excited. He walked to the weapon rack, drew a wooden sword, and stood opposite Himura Kenshin.
Without a moment's hesitation, Soma lunged. Gripping the wooden hilt, he swung the blade toward Kenshin in a fierce arc.
Faced with this strike, Kenshin simply took a light step back, letting the wood whistle past him harmlessly.
As his first strike missed, Soma prepared to follow up, but a sudden roar of wind filled his ears. Before he knew it, Kenshin had countered. The tip of Kenshin's wooden blade was already resting centimeters from Soma's brow.
Soma froze, his expression turning grim.
Kenshin retracted his sword. "What is called the 'Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu' is fundamentally an explosive sword style. When you strike, you must gather the power of your whole body, unleashing it in one continuous motion. You clearly haven't done that."
He looked at Soma. "Your speed is clearly greater than this. Once you strike, you must exert your maximum speed."
As a demon, with his body's physical potential, Soma's speed could far exceed what he had just shown. If he had unleashed full force, when he attacked Arakawa earlier, Arakawa would have found it nearly impossible to block.
It was precisely this realization that made Arakawa feel unfit to continue teaching him.
But Kenshin before him was different—far stronger. Even if Soma went all out, Kenshin could resist.
"Alright."
Soma nodded and struck again, this time without holding back. As a demon, his physical abilities had long surpassed human limits. The speed he now unleashed was unimaginable for ordinary people.
As the sword cut through the air, the motion produced sonic booms from its velocity.
Kenshin squinted his eyes, immediately holding his sword to counter. Unlike Soma, whose speed relied purely on physical ability, Kenshin's strike briefly gathered the full strength of his body. This made his attack faster, more precise, and far more ruthless—qualities Soma did not yet possess.
In an instant, the two blades clashed in the air.
CRACK!
Almost immediately, the wooden swords could not withstand the impact and shattered into countless fragments.
At the same moment, Kenshin's hand, still gripping the hilt, slid forward, and the tip nearly touched Soma's chest.
The force of the sword against his chest made Soma's expression sour.
"I lost again," Soma sighed.
"You are already quite formidable. Huff... huff..."
Himura Kenshin panted lightly, looking at Soma standing there with steady breathing, and a hint of admiration appeared in his eyes. "Such incredible physical ability."
Kenshin's own body had been weak from childhood, giving him a soft, delicate appearance. That was why Master "Hiko" changed his name from "Shinta" to "Kenshin." Even after years of training, his frailty remained a weak point.
Especially with the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, an explosive sword style capable of immense power in a short burst, the strength could not be sustained. Once the burst ended, he would enter a period of weakness, highlighting that vulnerability even further.
"Again." Soma closed his eyes, carefully recalling Kenshin's previous strike. After a long moment, he opened his eyes and looked at him.
"Huff..."
Himura Kenshin exhaled and replied, "Alright, but let me catch my breath first."
"Okay." Soma nodded.
......
Once Kenshin had recovered slightly, the two resumed sparring, continuously exchanging attacks.
Because wooden swords were too easily destroyed, they eventually switched to iron swords.
The clashing of steel rang out sparks in all directions.
Through the repeated collisions, Soma's understanding of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu deepened, and Kenshin seemed to notice this, subtly guiding him during the sparring.
Each time Soma was defeated again, he watched the seemingly fragile Kenshin produce immense energy in a short burst, predicting almost instinctively where Soma would strike next…
In a hazy, half-conscious moment, it felt as if he suddenly understood something—or rather, not just understood…
But truly…
He had mastered something.
So this… this was the so-called Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu.
"Huff..." Kenshin stepped back slightly, watching Soma close his eyes, a faint smile appearing on his face.
After an unknown amount of time, Soma slowly opened his eyes, a gleam of light shining in them.
"Congratulations." Kenshin smiled at Soma.
"Thank you." Soma nodded slightly, pleased, but his attention was drawn to the game-like character panel in his mind.
Name: Soma
Race: Demon
Lifespan: Infinite
Abilities: Immortality (Pseudo), Rapid Regeneration, Enhanced Physique
Weaknesses: Sunlight, Wisteria, Nichirin Sword
Status: Hungry; Cursed (by Muzan Kibutsuji)
Blood Demon Art: None
Swordsmanship: Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu
Constitution: 3.1 (Normal adult: 1)
Agility: 3.2 (Normal adult: 1)
Strength: 3.1 (Normal adult: 1)
Mental Strength: 1.5 (Normal adult: 1)
At this moment, the previously unchanging character panel in his mind finally showed some updates: "Swordsmanship" had appeared, reflecting his mastery of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, and his Mental Strength had risen from 1.2 to 1.5.
Soma was puzzled. The appearance of "Swordsmanship" made sense, but why had only Mental Strength increased? Why had Physique, Agility, or Strength not changed at all?
"Could it be… mastering Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu increases Mental Strength?" he murmured, though he still felt something was off.
After pondering for a long time, he couldn't figure it out. But he did notice that with the Mental Strength increase, his mind felt clearer, and even the craving for flesh seemed to diminish.
Or perhaps it wasn't that the desire for flesh had weakened, but that his control over that desire had strengthened, giving him better mastery of himself.
Feeling this, he finally breathed a small sigh of relief. Over time, he could feel the urge for flesh growing stronger, especially here in this bustling town, surrounded by all sorts of tempting "food." It was like a mouse falling into a rice jar—his bloodthirsty instincts surged, and he feared losing control at any moment.
Now, at least, he could feel a slight relief.