kscans

Chapter 176 - Brimming Within

◇ Arts Acquired ◇

“—…”

On the evening of the day before the Four Pillar War.

As the system notification flowed into the corner of my vision and the details of my new power were etched into my mind, I slowly opened my eyes and gazed upon the result I had brought forth.

The wooden training dummy my master had prepared for me—a thing boasting enough durability to withstand even the Sword Saint’s own blade several times—now lay in smithereens before me, shattered by the follow-through of my ‘sword.’

“—Haru-kun.”

Called, I turned to meet the eyes of my ‘Master,’ who had been watching me intently. A smile filled with a myriad of emotions—could I be so bold as to think that?—was directed at me… and as her ‘disciple,’ I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.

I sheathed the training katana she had lent me, its weight now as familiar as an extension of my own arm, and turned my whole body to face her, bowing my head deeply.

“Thank you very much—thanks to you… I’ve managed to make it in time.”

“…No, this is the fruit of your own hard work. As your master, I couldn’t be more proud.”

As she said this, she reached out her hand in a gesture that had become quite familiar.

Come to think of it, it’s already been two weeks since we met. As always, the encounters in this world forge surprisingly deep bonds in a short amount of time…

In a normal life, the connection of ‘master and disciple’ is not one you often find in modern times. But now that it has become completely natural, I no longer hesitate to accept the affection from my Master.

—It’s not that I’m not embarrassed. It’s just that, more than that, I want to respond to the feelings of my ‘Master,’ who cares so deeply for her ‘disciple.’

When I bend my knee and accept her hand on my head, she smiles so very happily. At this point, worrying about the whole man-woman dynamic would be rude… there’s no way I could refuse.

“Now then—as promised, I have something to give you.”

Her gray eyes looked straight at me from beyond the bangs that were brushed aside as she stroked my forehead. Perfect timing—I nodded in return and knelt on one knee upon the stone pavement.

I held up the katana I had been borrowing, sheath and all, as if offering it—am I more of a knight than a swordsman at this point?

We must have been thinking the same thing. A smile was exchanged with my master, who, despite gradually adopting a solemn air, couldn’t quite hide her inherent gentleness.

She took the sword from my hands and slipped it into the sash of her hakama—in its place, the other blade that had been resting there was drawn.

Unlike the plain, unadorned item I returned, this one was a magnificent three-shaku sword that was clearly ‘special’ even while sheathed.

The thread wrapping the hilt in a traditional diamond pattern was a deep, blackish-green. The Mino-style tsuba fitted at the border of the blade was engraved with—cherry blossoms, perhaps? A pattern of just-opening flowers, suggesting the very beginning of their bloom.

The black lacquered sheath was also scattered with a pattern of cherry blossom petals. The tasteful pink that colored the black stood out against the darker tones of the whole, making it look more like a work of art than a weapon.

—However, this was a sword. What truly mattered was not the exterior, but the blade that lay within the sheath, where its soul resided.

Slowly, with a clear ring of steel on wood, the blade was drawn. It was of green steel. The steel shone with a green so translucent it created the illusion of being clear, and was elegantly decorated with a magnificent suguha hamon.

Ui-san was the [Sword Saint], but she was also a ‘Swordsmith’ herself. While she didn’t possess any production-related blessings like the Western Faction, the swords she forged were said to be on par with those of professional artisans for a certain reason.

In other words, this sword was a masterpiece, as sublime as its flawless appearance suggested.

“—I have named it [Samidorizuki].”

Sheathing the jade blade once more, Ui-san held it and smiled at me as she announced its name. My eyes had been so captivated by it, down to the fresh green decorative cord swaying from its pommel, that I had to remind myself to breathe again.

Did she notice me just barely manage to swallow? She let out another gentle smile—and I saw the moment her eyes transformed into those of the [Sword Saint].

“—Will you accept this, my disciple?”

“—I humbly receive it, my master.”

A tangible weight was placed upon my outstretched hands.

“With this—I hereby recognize you as an initiate of Kesshiki Ittoryu, holder of the first transmission.”

An investiture of rank was declared. The [Samidorizuki] in my hands seemed to grow heavier, and I was certain it wasn't just my imagination.

I raised my head, and beyond the sword I had been given…

“…Hee… I don't know what to say. When we're this formal…”

I was captivated by the sight of her shedding a single tear.

“It’s a little… embarrassing, isn’t it?”

At the sight of my master, who faced me without hiding her joy, her shyness, or anything at all—

“—……T-Th-Thank you… so much…!!”

And so, at eighteen years of age, I experienced crying in front of someone for the first time in my life.

Oh man, this is so embarrassing.

◇◆◇◆◇

Not worrying about the whole man-woman dynamic, no longer hesitating to accept my master’s physical affection… yes, that’s what I truly believe. I do, but—

“Master?”

“Yes, Haru-kun?”

“Don’t ‘yes’ me. Today of all days, I’ve steeled my resolve and I’m going to say it…”

Her noble face, which I gazed up at, was as beautiful as ever… that’s not the point.

The side effect of using the two types of output, a condition I still haven't fully overcome. The gentle sensation of her lap cradling my weary head is something I’d be happy to enjoy forever, if I were allowed.

But, thinking about it normally, I’m not allowed, am I?

“You’re spoiling me too much, or something… Um, I’m a guy too, you know?”

And so, about a week after officially becoming her disciple—to the Sword Saint who had become less of a doting parent and more of a doting master—I finally attempted to lecture her.

“It’s not good to be so casually physical, and for the sake of the Sword Saint’s dignity, you know? Also, well, for my emotional state, as a healthy young man, there are various mental hygiene issues… you know, you get it, right?”

Ui-san has her slightly… unique sensibilities, but she is fundamentally a reasonable and thoughtful person. She surely wasn’t doing this without any awareness; she didn’t just tilt her head in confusion at my words like some stock character.

“I’m sorry, I do understand. I understand, but… it was something I have always yearned for.”

“Yearned for…? Um… to give a man a lap pillow?”

That seemed a little uncharacteristic of her… As I was about to take mysterious damage from this self-imposed misinterpretation, Ui-san smiled, amused. “No, not that.”

“Not to a man, but to a disciple… no, that’s not right either. It may sound strange, but perhaps, to someone I could look after.”

“I see…”

Since I am, in fact, being looked after by her, it’s not wrong, so I don’t find it strange, but…

“…My grandfather used to do this for me often when I was little.”

“Oh…”

Oh… that, is…

That line of reasoning, is a little………… bit, effective on me, isn't it…?

“We would sunbathe on the veranda… hee hee, back then, taking a nap like this was a daily ritual.”

Yep, that’s a critical hit. Appealing to my emotions is against the rules…!

But, however…!!

“E-even so, I still think what’s not good is not good…”

I mean, come on.

For example, if Sora were to see us in this situation, I would almost certainly feel guilty—and that alone is more than enough reason not to let this continue.

If I feel even a little bit that way, then I must correct it.

I don’t want to harbor even a shred of guilt in my precious relationship with my master—

“………………”

“—……”

I don’t… but…—wait a minute, really? You’re going to make that sad a face…!?

My master is too much of a disciple-doting person, and it’s a blessing—no, I mean, it’s painful…!!

“…I want to be selfish and say that I don’t want to stop.”

“If you say that, I don’t have the confidence to refuse, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t…”

“You are too kind, Haru-kun. As a master, I cannot take advantage of my disciple.”

It’s not kindness, that’s for sure. Yes, I’m a man, after all.

“In that case, then—I suppose I have no choice but to create a reason.”

“A… a reason?”

Uh oh, something’s starting again.

That thing unique to the Sword Saint, where she reaches a conclusion at lightning speed and things develop at a breakneck pace, has begun…!!

“I will create a ‘reason’ for you, Haru-kun, to have to accept my selfish request. If I become the villain, it will be a good excuse to protect your dignity.”

“No, no, no, no…! What are you even saying, more so than usual…!?”

The moment Ui-san becomes the villain, I automatically become an even bigger villain, you know.

I don’t know what she’s planning, but even if she orchestrates it herself, in my mind, I’ll still be the bad guy…!!

“Hee hee.”

“This isn’t a ‘hee hee’ moment!! —Ah, wait, hold on… where, where are you taking me…!!”

My body still not quite back to normal, I was made to stand up and was led away by my Master, who pulled me along with a strength that belied her appearance, into the dojo.

Given player stats, the interior is inevitably a bit cramped, so our training was mostly outdoors. I was familiar with the veranda, which served as our rest area, but I hadn’t entered the dojo itself many times.

It was spacious, but otherwise, it was a simple dojo with no particularly noteworthy features. With walls and a ceiling, it would be impossible for either of us, not just me, to go all out in here.

By the way, you could surprisingly wear your shoes inside. It’s a nice feature that they don't get dirty; some things are very game-like in that way.

Brought into this dojo, I stood there dumbfounded as I was handed a ‘wooden sword’—haha, I see what’s going on here. She intends to settle whether she continues to pamper me or not with this match, right?

But why????

“Wait a minute…! This is, from the start, the result is obvious—”

“Oh, but I did tell you, didn’t I?”

Ten paces. Ui-san, having pushed the wooden sword into my hands and taken some distance, smiled mischievously while holding her own weapon.

“That I would become the villain.”

She did it on purpose…!!

“Kuh… N-no, I won’t lose…!! Then one minute, no, thirty… ten seconds! If I can last ten seconds, I win, is that okay!?”

I know I'm hedging my bets like crazy, but surviving even ten seconds is a life-or-death proposition for me. I'm aware that I've grown into a different person over these two weeks, but my Master is not so lenient as to be reachable with that level of improvement.

“That is perfectly fine by me.”

Look at that expression on her face. She doesn’t even consider the possibility of losing—as always, she has absolute confidence in her own martial prowess.

As her disciple, I couldn’t be prouder—

“Well then—here I come.”

“—Ah.”

Her right hand gripping the wooden sword, her right foot pulled far back in a half-body stance.

Her left hand, loosely open, was held before her chest with a slight bend at the elbow, as if in preparation to dash forward.

And her stance, low—so low it was almost parallel to the ground, was,

for me, the worst possible one.

“Kesshiki Ittoryu—Seventh Strike.”

“W-wait—!!”

“—Nanahoshi.”

Her form vanished, already impossible to follow with my eyes. On pure reflex, I raised my wooden sword to my centerline, but,

“—!!”

It was instantly knocked from my hand by an invisible blow—and at the same time, behind me,

at my feet,

at my neck,

at my side,

at my shoulder,

at my waist,

all at once—no, a flurry of god-speed, multi-angled strikes with only a sub-millisecond interval between them assaulted my entire body.

In theory, it’s the same as my high-speed maneuver. See it, lay the path, follow it—when she does that using her unique Shukuchi to its fullest, you get this, an extraordinary, divine feat.

In other words, it’s a complete upgrade to my own movements as a player.

There’s no way I can dodge it—well, that would have been true for the old me.

A thread dances.

A thin, thin, glowing blue thread dances—

“—Final Strike.”

Seven flashes intersect. As I leaped upwards to escape them at a speed that momentarily surpassed them, an undeniable ‘death sentence’ was pronounced.

The power of the sword generated by the ultra-continuous use of Shukuchi, and the momentum and recoil produced in the body that wields it—all of this should have been a massive amount of energy that would normally destroy even the user’s avatar.

But the Sword Saint makes even that her own blade.

It was like a dance of divine speed. With footwork so miraculous I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, she spun. The wooden sword, holding within it a power that should have shattered it, spun wildly in her hand—

In a display of inhuman body and sword control that seemed to steal the show from the [Acrobat]—the wooden sword, already beginning to self-destruct, was loaded into her left hand, which she must have been using as a scabbard.

Creak.

It took about one second to reach that stance, which was filled with a pressure so immense it felt as if space itself was groaning.

As I finally began my descent, my face already a mask of resignation, I watched.

The previous seven flashes—a single, fatal blow, imbued with all their power, was unleashed.

“—Yuikaze.”

I felt the wind brush past my ear—and by then, my avatar had already been blown away without a single speck of dust remaining.