kscans

Chapter 34 - The Best Swordsman in the East

Swordsmen from all over the East who were confident in their skills gathered in the capital in the middle of Shimotsuki. The tournament arena was set up outdoors. A total of two hundred judges were mobilized, and the number of competitors exceeded five hundred. The lineup was diverse: swordsmen selected from prestigious dojos, representatives who had won their way up from general dojos, those who belonged to none and had learned the sword through self-study, and even vagrants who worked as bodyguards in gambling dens. The disciples aside, the reason the vagrants had also gathered was none other than for the prize money. Some were hoping that if they did well, they could get steady work from the Tower. Saimon stood before the disciples he had brought with him and gave them a pep talk.

"Listen well. You must not, under any circumstances, lose to the likes of them." These words stemmed from the idea that those who had not passed through a dojo's gates were not true swordsmen. To learn the fundamentals from scratch, to hone one's skills with comrades, and to face examinations. He believed that those who had experienced these hardships were the true swordsmen. No, this was not limited to Saimon; it was a sentiment shared by other dojo masters and their disciples as well. They had forged their spirits through the pride and pressure that came with carrying their dojo's name. They had a sense of pride that they were different from those who swung their swords for money, relying on brute force.

In conclusion, the correctness of this belief was mostly proven. No matter how strong one was, without proper fundamentals and forms, one could not stand a chance against a disciple who held a seventh dan. As for strength, both sides had trained, so there was not much of a difference. So, if their strength was equal, in whose hands would victory fall? Of course, it would be the one with superior technique. It was a rare thing to be able to break the fundamentals and forms and still win, like Shintaro. However, such a rare man was participating in this tournament. Kawahara Soma. He was twenty-one years old. Tall at six-foot-five, he had no excess fat and was powerfully built. His wild features and the intense spirit in his deep eyes were impressive. Soma specialized in attacks from above, taking advantage of his height. That's not to say he neglected his torso or feet. He had mastered a perfect defense and a flawless stance. The effort he put in to reach that level through self-study was worthy of praise.

Saimon, who was watching Soma's fight, grunted and was speechless at its brilliance. As far as he knew, there was no swordsman in this world as strong as Soma. His movements were as fast as an arrow, his step gouged the earth, and the swing of his arm created wind. He thought that with proper training, he could become even stronger.

"Have you no interest in joining a dojo?" Saimon approached Soma, who had just finished a match, and asked. Soma looked Saimon up and down. A man over sixty, with the appearance of a master, he thought.

"I appreciate the offer, but there is nothing for me to learn from others." Soma declined with a polite smile. But Saimon continued.

"If you learn the fundamentals and forms, you can become even stronger."

"Even so, I have no intention of doing so. I'm truly sorry, but..."

"Even just to learn the basics, won't you come?"

"Unfortunately, I have a mountain of teachers." At Soma's words, Saimon showed a slightly surprised expression.

"Oh? So many?"

"You could say that." Soma looked into the distance and murmured. His teachers were the strong winds that could blow everything away, the rough waves that carved rocks, the waterfalls that fell from the heavens, and the mountain peaks that pierced the sky. The nature of this world had raised him and made him strong. And Soma believed that they could teach him far more skillful techniques than any human could. Soma returned his gaze to Saimon and bowed.

"Well then." As Soma was about to leave, Saimon hurriedly stopped him.

"Wait a moment. You came to this tournament with the intention of winning, didn't you?" Soma turned around with a look that said, "Isn't that obvious?" Then Saimon smiled with a hidden meaning. Soma couldn't help but frown, and Saimon said,

"Even if it's just for formality's sake, you wouldn't lose anything by joining my dojo."

"...What do you mean?"

"My dojo is owned by the Tower."

"So?"

"To win this tournament means to become the best swordsman in the East. To become the best swordsman in the East means that you must also value your connection to the authorities." Soma gave a wry smile.

"I see. It reeks of money and power. But sorry. I intend to make those authorities of yours recognize me with this sword arm alone. I don't need any connections. I bet you'd just cast me aside when I'm no longer useful. I have no intention of bowing and scraping to people like that." And this time, he turned on his heel for good.

*

Kawahara Soma was a man who had dedicated himself solely to honing his sword skills since childhood. The reason he didn't attend a dojo was because he wasn't particularly well-off financially. How could he train his body and acquire skills without spending money? He had lived his life thinking about such things and learned from nature. His father was a lumberjack, so helping him also served as training. However, since they lived deep in the mountains and rarely went down to the village, he was ignorant of the world. He went to a temple school once a week to learn reading, writing, and arithmetic, but as soon as classes were over, he would quickly go home to help his father or practice, so he never made any friends. But thanks to that, he became strong enough to call himself a master swordsman without shame. So he had a dream. The dream of "becoming the number one swordsman in this country and making my name known." Just because he didn't make friends and secluded himself in the mountains for training didn't mean he disliked people or shunned society. He had a dream like any young man and was boldly challenging it. And that dream was already within his reach. The strong swordsmen were mostly concentrated in the East. If he could stand at the top there, it was as good as being number one in the country.

*

Soma trembled with excitement and fired himself up. He was already strong, but his fighting spirit was more than enough. He felled his opponents with a single swing and pushed them over with a single step. The way he defeated his opponents as if cutting them in two was truly demonic, and his momentum was unstoppable. Of course, his opponents were all fine swordsmen. They were masters who could be called master swordsmen just like him. But they were no match for Soma. Soma was like a bear or a tiger. A destructive blow and swift, smooth movements. He mastered a number of miraculous techniques that didn't seem humanly possible. Among them, what wowed the venue the most was when he jumped to a height equal to his own.

Inside the spectator's box, Razan, who was watching the outcome of the match from behind a bamboo screen, slapped his own thigh. He had seen a divine-like strength in Soma.

"My apologies, Sanetsugu-dono. It seems the heavens have favored me." Razan had suspected that the letter from the Emperor had not been sent only to the East. He thought that the same thing was likely happening in the West, and that the winners from both sides would face off in Kyo. He didn't know the clear intention, but he calculated that depending on the result, it would determine which side would be favored in the future.

After that, Soma defeated all the swordsmen and claimed victory. After being thoroughly praised at the venue, he was seen off by a large crowd as he stepped into the Tower. The first floor of the Tower was a spacious audience chamber.

"The Tower Master is waiting for you." The person standing at the entrance said, and Soma stepped onto the platform. He guessed that the man on the raised platform in front was the one and approached him. A very imposing figure. Eventually, he stopped at a position where he could see his face, and Soma respectfully dropped to one knee. The Tower Master, Razan, confirmed this and slowly nodded.

"Your strength, I am impressed. The best swordsman in this East... no, perhaps I should say the best swordsman in the country." At these words, Soma smiled with satisfaction. His eyes were so full of confidence that they made Razan flinch for a moment.

"I am honored by your praise."

"No—now, I would like to award you the prize money immediately, but it is not a small sum. To award the full amount, there is one condition." At this unexpected turn, Soma's smile vanished, and he furrowed his brow.

"What might that be?"

"I want you to go to a place called Kyo."

"Kyo, you say?"

"That's right."

"And what shall I do there?"

"I want you to have an audience with a certain noble personage. In fact, the one who ordered the selection of the best swordsman in the East was that very person." Soma had a strange feeling in his chest. A person whom even a Tower Master would refer to as "personage." There was no way they were an ordinary person.

"That personage... who might they be?" When he asked cautiously, Razan descended from the raised platform, approached Soma, and answered in a small voice.

"He is called the Emperor. Only those entrusted with important positions in the country know of him." Seeing Razan's tense expression, he could guess that this person held the highest power in the country. Yes. The long-whispered rumor that "behind the Towers, there exists a more powerful and mysterious force" was true.