Time flew by, and a month vanished in a heartbeat.
The early morning at Momoyama was thick with the scent of wet grass and earth. Uzui Tengen stood shirtless, his corded muscles tightening like iron under the sun. Each swing of his sword carried a mournful whistle as it tore through the air.
"Hah!"
With a violent shout, his wooden blade slammed into a waist-high boulder.
BOOM!
Stone fragments sprayed everywhere! Spiderweb cracks instantly raced across the surface, and a second later, the entire rock exploded under his sheer brute force. Dust swirled as Tengen let out a long breath, looking at Ryousuke with a deep scowl.
"This 'Breathing' flow is still not flashy or smooth enough! It feels like something is jamming the gears!" Tengen's voice carried a hint of irritability.
Ryousuke's eye twitched as he looked away from the pathetic pile of rubble. After living with him, he realized his anime-based knowledge of Tengen was too shallow. This guy wasn't just a man; he was a beast in human skin! His speed and power were impeccable, far exceeding the limits of normal humans. Even with Momoyama's grueling training, Tengen's daily intensity surpassed both Ryousuke and Shota combined.
Yet, Tengen was hitting a wall with the core Breathing technique.
Thunder Breathing is about instantaneous, compressed explosive power. The First Form, Thunderclap and Flash, is the bedrock—the link to all other chains. But Tengen...
He was walking a different path. Like Gyomei Himejima, he crushed everything with absolute physical dominance. Simple. Direct. Overpowering. It wasn't technique; it was just pure stats. Especially his grip strength—one of his hands could probably out-wrestle four of Ryousuke's. That boulder didn't "break" from a sword strike; it was basically bullied into exploding.
"The essence of Thunder is instantaneous burst at high speed," Ryousuke said lazily. "Your way is... well... a unique interpretation?"
He couldn't find a better word. Seeing the agile, flickery Thunder Breathing applied to Uzui Tengen was like watching a mammoth try to wear a ballerina's tutu.
Abstract. Extremely abstract.
"His potential is being restricted," Master Jigoro concluded, leaning on his cane as he watched. "Your bones, strength, and reflexes are top-tier. You were born for a path of overwhelming ferocity. Forcing yourself into the rigid frame of Thunder is like stuffing a bull into a doghouse—it only hurts both. You should try evolving the style into your own 'Way.'"
Tengen went silent, gripping his wooden sword. He wasn't stubborn; his history as a defector taught him the importance of choice.
"Even if I flashily create a branch, I must first understand the root," Tengen said deeply. "Otherwise, it's just a flashy castle in the sky with no foundation." He picked up dual training blades, his eyes turning fierce. "Again! The flashy me won't be beaten by a breath!"
As the days passed in a blur of sweat and steel, Ryousuke completed a few more missions and was promoted to Kanoe (己) rank. Promotion was good—it meant higher-tier missions and a better chance at high-value "lifespan snacks."
In his downtime, Ryousuke didn't stay idle. He actively hung out with Tengen and his three wives, humbly asking for tips on kunai throwing and Shinobi stealth. Ninja killing-arts were invaluable in a life-and-death struggle against demons.
Tengen was generous, even having his Muscle Mice bring over several sets of delicate wrist-crossbows and poisoned kunai for Ryousuke to study. Hinatsuru gently explained poison-to-explosive ratios, Makio offered biting critiques of his clumsy handiwork, and Suma nervously warned him not to accidentally stab himself.
Rika, of course, was always there, watching them like a hawk.
Ryousuke tested the poisons on a few low-level demons during his travels, but the results were poor. Demon biology was too resilient; the poisons were neutralized within minutes. I guess until the Butterfly Mansion is fully established, I won't get the good stuff from Shinobu or Kanae, he thought, shelving the project for now.
Soon, Tengen's progress hit a bottleneck. His physical base was already at the human ceiling. On Momoyama, only Ryousuke and Shota could spar with him, but after dozens of rounds, they knew each other's habits by heart. Ryousuke was fast, but Tengen's beastly instincts let him dodge the vitals every time. Shota was still too green to put real pressure on him.
"This is no good! It's unflashy! I'll never cross the threshold like this!" Tengen wiped his brow after a spar. "Next time you two get a mission, the Great Me is coming along! Real slaughter is the best whetstone! Flashy growth happens on the battlefield!"
"Fine. We can look out for each other," Ryousuke nodded.
Jigoro didn't object and even equipped Tengen with two heavy Nichirin blades. The old master knew Tengen was desperate to improve, and with his talent, even a basic understanding of breathing combined with sun-steel would make him a nightmare for low-tier demons.
Plus, if Tengen mastered his unique "Score" technique, Ryousuke might be able to "borrow" it. Though I'll need to work on my rhythm... I was a shut-in, I can barely sing in tune, let alone read the 'song' of a battle, Ryousuke mused.
"One thing," Ryousuke added, stating a weird condition. "The demon's head has to be mine to cut."
Tengen looked him up and down. "What a flashily bizarre request. Fine! I have no interest in demon heads. As long as my blades drink the blood of a strong foe, you can have the finishing blow." He laughed heartily, assuming it was just some eccentric quirk or an obsession with the "kill shot."
A few days later, a Kasugai Crow arrived with new orders.
"Caw! Yasui Ryousuke! Kanoe-rank mission! Thirteen youths missing in Ine Town, Hokuriku! Large amounts of clay found at the scenes!"