kscans

Chapter 41 - Like a Dragon

The battle against the soldiers would be with wooden swords. From the previous experience, it was highly likely that the soldiers wouldn't even get a chance to swing their swords before being defeated, and even if their weapons broke, replacements would likely be scattered about. Shintaro took a deep breath, lowered his stance slightly, and touched the tip of his wooden sword to the ground. At first glance, it was a stance that completely ignored the fundamentals, full of openings, but his sharp gaze, like that of a starving lion, gave it an air of an ironclad defense and ferocious aggression. Before him stood ten thousand soldiers. Their fighting spirit was also high. The tip of Shintaro's wooden sword moved as if to entangle that spirit.

He spun his body in a full circle, drawing a ring on the ground as he leaped toward the front line. The gentle breeze this created enveloped Shintaro, lifting his feet off the ground. No, in reality, he had lightly kicked off the ground and danced on the wind, but from an observer's perspective, that's how it appeared. The height he jumped was not significant. About knee-high. But Shintaro was already a tall man. His single strike carried the same force as one delivered from horseback. The soldiers scrambled to retreat. They had prepared countermeasures for a five-ken vertical jump, but they had not anticipated an attack from above with an abnormally long hang time, one that maintained a height of about two feet while covering a horizontal distance of five ken. Most of the soldiers fell back, preparing to strike the moment Shintaro's feet touched the ground. But that moment was fleeting, impossible to grasp. Shintaro once again launched himself into the air, felling the surrounding soldiers. Sometimes spinning, sometimes doing front and back flips, he attacked again and again as if dancing. There wasn't the same piercing sharpness as when he had faced a thousand soldiers. But his dancing attacks never ceased, sweeping away and knocking down his opponents' blades. This was a tactic to conserve as much stamina as possible. Even Shintaro had judged that fighting like he had before would leave him unable to last through the latter half... but his blade was sharp, and there was little difference in the speed at which he carved through the wall of men. Needless to say, the discrepancy between his graceful appearance and the sharpness of his attacks threw the soldiers into confusion.

The spectators and the soldiers still outside the range of engagement were mesmerized and stunned by Shintaro's fighting style. The way he advanced while seemingly floating at a constant height resembled a giant mythical beast slowly crossing the land. Clad in hard scales that repelled all attacks, he swatted away those who stood in his path with the tips of his claws. His form was truly that of a great being that gives birth to the wind and calls forth the rain.

"The gaze of a lion, dancing like a dragon—this is..." In the silent venue, Sahei's murmur echoed. His voice pierced Saimon's heart like a dagger. He remembered what he had been asked during the New Year's festival last year. "Did you not verify the swordsmanship he wielded in the countryside?" It wasn't clear if they had already called Shintaro to the West at that time or if they called him later. But thinking back on it now, it seemed likely that the question had been posed after they had already confirmed the truth of the rumors. A strange, bitter aftertaste, as if he had been drugged, spread through Saimon. A strong wind blew from the training grounds. It was the wind created by Shintaro, who had been dancing all this time. The wind stirred up by each swing was created ceaselessly, and had now become a single, powerful gust. Saimon narrowed his eyes and gazed at the distant, hazy form of the dragon. As he did, he saw the dream he had cherished shatter and fade into the gloom. Though Shintaro's gaze was the same as it had been two years ago, there was not a trace of the swordsmanship he had wielded at the Hokura dojo. When he considered what that meant, the light and shadow of his heart became starkly clear, like the jet-black shadow cast by a pure white tusk soaring in the heavens. Shintaro had erased it. The moment he lost Mana, he had buried all the unnecessary techniques that would kill his own sword. As if to prove that the greatest swordsman in the country had no need for the Hokura style.

And then, at the moment the thousandth wooden sword was sent flying into the air, Shintaro's own wooden sword broke. Instantly. Soma, who had been watching Shintaro's swordplay, which could only be described as truly divine, saw a bird in his eyes. It had crossed the patch of blue sky peeking through a break in the clouds. No. It wasn't a bird. It was a soldier's wooden sword, knocked high into the air, that Shintaro had caught. Soma's eyes bulged. It was a leap of over five ken. Shintaro grabbed the wooden sword, did a forward flip, and, letting the momentum of his fall guide him, swung his arm. Eight of the soldiers waiting below were sent flying. Then, without a moment's pause, he mowed down soldiers to his right and left, once again leaping into the air and transforming into a dragon. As he burned the series of brilliant movements into his mind, Soma froze. A cold sweat he couldn't stop dripped from his brow, oblivious to the stains it made on the ground as he stood there, utterly still. An attack from a height of five ken. He now knew that it was a technique made possible by Shintaro's own leap. It made sense now that Miyake, who had crossed swords with him, had been able to block Soma's all-out strike. It made sense now that the palace staff had been able to watch calmly as he performed the technique that had electrified the crowd in the Eastern Capital. After seeing Shintaro's leap, any superhuman feat would pale in comparison.

Razan was thinking the same thing.

"...I see. So this is his true form. Still, if he was really in the East, what a waste." Saimon, hearing this monologue, turned pale and twisted his lips as he answered. He threw aside his title as Tower Master and spat out the resentment he had long held for the man who had made his daughter unhappy.

"If you hadn't said you wanted Mana, he would have stayed in the East forever." Razan's eyes widened as he stared at Saimon's face. He read everything from his anguish-filled expression. But there was no regret, no despair. There was only a wry smile at this ironic twist of fate. Seeing Razan so unfazed, it was Saimon who became frantic. And so, he let slip, "My daughter bears no responsibility in this."

Razan turned a frosty gaze on him, the corners of his mouth lifting. "I said she was free to do as she pleased. If Lady Mana had followed her true love, I intended to make her happy. Well, perhaps that wish was also a form of greed. Greed is the ruin of man, is it not, Lord Hokura?" Razan said it as if mocking himself, and then looked away. His impassive profile showed no anxiety. It was the first time Saimon had found Razan to be so unsettling.

"Won't this put you in a bad position?" Razan laughed off the question.

"It is an Emperor's duty to prioritize the nation's interests over personal feelings. He would not do something that would destabilize the East."

"But—"

"I am not liked by anyone anyway. At this point, nothing can hurt me." The decisive way Razan cut off Saimon's attempt to argue offered a glimpse into why he was the Tower Master. But seeing this seemingly reliable figure, Saimon hung his head. Had he married his precious daughter off to a man who had no heart to be hurt?

As they were speaking, the venue erupted again. It seemed the second wooden sword had also broken. Shintaro leaped high, arching his back greatly, passed the wooden sword he had tossed into the air, and caught it while doing a backflip. He caught it high up to prevent the many soldiers from exploiting an opening. The soldiers, thinking this was their chance, waited below. However, Shintaro didn't aim for the ground, but kicked off their readied wooden swords and soared into the air again. The one who was kicked had it rough. Of course, he couldn't keep holding onto his wooden sword. If he had stubbornly tried not to let go, he would have at least sprained his wrist. The soldier writhed in agony from the sharp pain that shot through his arm. It was jarring enough to have your sword deflected normally. To be kicked by a foot that could perform superhuman leaps would be utterly devastating. The other soldiers looked at him with sympathetic eyes and pulled back their own swords. Shintaro flew just over the soldiers' heads, aiming for a spot where the density of the crowd was thinner to land. He intended to break them down from their weakest point. But everyone swarmed him, thinking this was their chance, so it was only at the very beginning that he could break through easily. To avoid having his back taken, Shintaro ran at full speed. He cut down the soldiers in front of him, mowing them down to the right and left as he raced through like a gale. It was the same way he had fought when he faced a thousand soldiers before. He was finally about to defeat the two-thousandth man. His plan was to push through to the two-thousand-five-hundredth man, and from there, use the technique that had earned him the name of a dragon to conserve his stamina as he fought.

In any case, his fighting prowess had already surpassed miracles. At this point, the spectators' interest shifted to just how far he could push his record. Some said he would reach five thousand, others that seven or eight thousand was a sure thing. Some even said he would achieve ten thousand. They were all different. The undisputed strongest swordsman was wielding his innate sword. It was as free as a bird released, as brave as a lion, and as graceful as a dragon. The onlookers were overwhelmed, yet they yearned for his form and were intoxicated by his skill. Amidst it all, Saimon quietly departed alone. It was a strength he had never wielded at the Hokura dojo. He considered the heart of Shintaro that had been hidden there, but it was still a power he could not accept. In that case, there was only one thing to do. To withdraw in silence. Just as Shintaro had once done, to disappear without a word was the only atonement Saimon could make.