Spring blossoms withered, summer cicadas went silent, and autumn leaves drifted away. Time slipped through the cracks of the monotonous, brutal training at Momoyama.
Nine months of tempering had transformed Yasui Ryousuke.
He stood noticeably taller. Though still lean, he was no longer a porcelain doll waiting to shatter. The sickly pallor had been replaced by a healthy bronze, forged by sun and sweat.
"Ha! Ryousuke! Don't think you're passing me today!"
Shota's voice rang out as he blurred past, a streak of motion aiming for the finish line.
"Hah... hah... you brat... don't get cocky..."
Ryousuke trailed just a few paces behind. Rika followed further back, her face flushed red, but her stride remained steady.
As training ended, Ryousuke stared at the glowing number on his System interface: 83 days. Even with his improved constitution, his natural clock was ticking down to less than three months.
In the center of the dojo, two new haori were neatly folded. One was the deep bronze Shota favored. The other belonged to Ryousuke: pitch black, with intricate gold lightning patterns embroidered along the hem.
Jigoro handed them their Nichirin Swords. Rika was still too young and lacked the raw strength, so she would wait another year.
"The Final Selection has arrived," Jigoro said. He offered no grand speeches, only a lingering look at Ryousuke. "Survive Mt. Fujikasane."
By a normal training schedule, a talent like Shota would have taken years to reach this level. But Ryousuke was a madman. When others ate, he trained. When they slept, he trained. When they were already training, he pushed harder.
"Shota-niisan! Ryousuke-niisan! Come back safe!"
Rika's voice faded into the distance as the two boys began their descent down the mountain.
Mt. Fujikasane was a prison of purple. Wisteria flowers hung in surreal, cascading waterfalls, creating a natural cage for the demons trapped within. Beyond the floral scent lay seven days of darkness, blood, and desperation.
Ryousuke didn't stick with Shota.
He knew the layout. Aside from the Hand Demon "bug" in the system, most of these creatures had only eaten a few humans—weak prey. He needed those kills for himself. He needed the lifespan points.
"Skreee!"
A creature with elongated teeth and the body of a lizard lunged from the tall grass, its speed a blur.
Ryousuke dropped into a low crouch, his hand finding the hilt. As he drew breath, the air around him crackled with static.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
Crr-ack!
A boom of thunder shook the trees. Ryousuke reappeared yards away, his blade already returning to its sheath. Behind him, the demon's head slid from its shoulders, dissolving into ash.
[Low-tier Demon slain. Lifespan +10 days. Total: 92 days.]
The System's voice was music to his ears. It worked. The speed and destructive power of Thunder Breathing made the kill almost effortless.
Ten days per head? This is it.
Ryousuke didn't stop. He turned, vanishing into the brush toward the next sound of screaming.
"Where are they? I thought this was supposed to be a bloodbath."
A swordsman wearing a fox mask scratched his head, looking bewildered. His name was Akira Moriyama, and he had been wandering the forest for six days. He hadn't seen a single demon.
Was Master Urokodaki just trying to scare me?
Suddenly, a shadow dropped from the canopy. The stench of rot hit him instantly.
"Gah!"
The demon tackled Akira to the ground, his Nichirin Sword spinning out of reach. It lunged for his throat, its jaw unhinging—only for a bolt of lightning to tear through the gloom.
Ryousuke appeared beside him, his black haori snapping in the wind.
Shing.
The blade clicked home in the scabbard. The demon disintegrated before it could even gurgle.
[Low-tier Demon slain. Lifespan +10 days. Total: 156 days.]
"A Thunder breather?" Akira gasped, scrambling up. "Thank you. I'm Akira Moriyama."
"Ryousuke." Ryousuke looked at the fox mask and his lip twitched. "Your master... is he Urokodaki Sakonji?"
"Yeah, how did you know?"
Ryousuke patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Just... be careful. That mask is a magnet for trouble."
Urokodaki was the one who had captured the Hand Demon decades ago. To that monster, the fox mask was like a red flag to a bull. According to the timeline, Sabito and Giyuu were still training; this guy was from a previous batch.
Ryousuke hadn't walked ten steps before the air turned cold and heavy.
"ROAAAR!"
A massive, distorted silhouette emerged. It was a mountain of pale, bloated flesh, wrapped in dozens of severed, twitching arms. Its eyes locked onto Akira's fox mask with murderous intensity.
"Urokodaki! Another little fox from Urokodaki! Heheheh!" The Hand Demon's laugh was a jagged, high-pitched screech. "I'll tear you apart! I'll make you pay for the thirty-nine years I've spent in this cage!"
Speak of the devil, Ryousuke thought, his thumb pushing his blade out of the guard.
Akira paled, gripping his sword with shaking hands. "Impossible... a demon like this shouldn't be here!"
"I've been here since the Edo period!" the monster roared, its multiple arms slamming into the earth, shaking the very ground. "Unforgivable! Urokodaki! Urokodaki!"
The pressure was suffocating.
"Move or die!" Ryousuke barked.
He moved like a lightning strike, slicing through a dozen reaching hands as he aimed for the monster's core. Akira followed suit, his blade trailing water.
"Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance!"
They attacked in tandem, but the Hand Demon's regeneration was monstrous. Severed arms grew back in heartbeats, lashing out like whips.
Boom!
A massive fist caught them both, sending them flying. Ryousuke hit a tree, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Akira hit the ground and went limp, knocked unconscious instantly.
Are you kidding me? Ryousuke growled, wiping blood from his chin. Did my teammate just disconnect in the middle of a boss fight?
The Hand Demon surged forward, its mass of arms reaching for the fallen Akira. Suddenly, another bolt of lightning intercepted the strike.
"Thunder Breathing, Second Form: Rice Spirit!"
Five arched slashes of lightning tore through the air, shredding the demon's reach. Shota landed in front of them, his breathing heavy.
"You okay?"
"I'm not dead yet," Ryousuke grunted, standing up.
The two disciples of Jigoro charged together. Lightning danced through the trees as they hacked through the endless wall of flesh, but they were slowing down.
"We have to take the head!" Shota yelled, parrying a blow that nearly crushed his ribs.
Ryousuke knew it wouldn't be easy. This demon had eaten nearly thirty people; its neck was encased in a thick armor of muscular arms.
Suddenly, a massive limb caught Shota in the side, sending him crashing into a boulder. His sword spun away, and his bronze haori was instantly soaked in crimson.
"Hehehe... more little birds to crush..." The Hand Demon moved in for the kill.
Ryousuke spat a glob of blood, a vicious, desperate look crossing his face. If he didn't end this now, none of them were going home.
"System!" he roared in his mind. "Level me the hell up! Use everything!"