I stopped counting the days.
Each morning I got up before sunrise, and each night I fell asleep after the moon was high. I didn't rest much. I didn't care to. I had only one thing on my mind becoming strong enough to kill demons.
The dream hadn't left me. That strange memory, the one where I saw a warrior moving through the dark, cutting down a demon. I still didn't understand what it meant or why I had seen it. But the technique I saw stuck with me. It was fast, clean, and powerful. I kept trying to copy it. But every time I did, something felt off.
I practiced anyway.
In the river, I trained my breathing. I'd stand waist-deep in freezing water and hold my breath until my chest burned. Then I'd run without breathing, timing my steps, counting heartbeats. It was painful at first, but slowly, I could last longer. My body started to change.
I trained with my sword too. My hands were covered in blisters. My shoulders ached. Every movement started out rough, but after hundreds of tries, I began to understand the flow. Still, the technique from the dream didn't fit me. No matter how many times I tried, I couldn't get it right.
So I made changes.
I shortened the stance. Adjusted the timing. Focused more on speed than power. The original movement was elegant, almost like a dance. Mine was faster and sharper. It didn't look as beautiful but it felt real. It felt like something I could rely on.
Day after day, I kept practicing it. I didn't name the move yet. It still needed work.
Junjiro never came to check on me, but I knew he was watching. Sometimes I'd see faint signs footprints near the training ground, a warm teacup left on a rock, a tree branch bent in a way that meant someone had stood there.
He said nothing. But he knew I was still trying.
About a month had passed.
That afternoon, I walked into the forest and stood in front of the boulder again.
I had seen it first in Junjiro's journal. A test to cut a boulder in half. When I first saw it in person, I thought it was a joke. The thing was massive, solid, old. I was sure no sword could break it.
But now, after weeks of training, I was starting to understand why the test existed.
Demons weren't weak. The one I fought back in the village had survived multiple cuts. It had strength and speed beyond anything I had seen. If I couldn't cut a stone, how could I cut something like that?
I looked down at my blade. It was still the same nichirin sword I had used since the beginning. It had chips along the edge. It had dulled. I knew it wouldn't last much longer. If it broke now, I didn't have a second.
That thought made me hesitate.
I had worked so hard. Was I really about to ruin the only weapon I had?
But I also knew this couldn't wait forever.
I stepped forward. Took a deep breath. I could hear the wind passing through the trees. The grass swayed quietly. My heart was steady.
I closed my eyes and pictured the move. My move. Not the one from the dream but the version I had created. I had practiced it more than anything else. It was the only thing I fully trusted now.
I opened my eyes and moved.
The slash came fast. My feet shifted with the step. My hands moved cleanly. The blade followed the exact line I had practiced.
For a second, there was silence.
Then a soft crack.
Then another.
The boulder split.
It didn't shatter. It didn't explode. It just opened like a curtain being drawn. Two clean halves leaned slightly away from each other before resting on the earth.
I stood there frozen.
I had done it.
Not with strength.
Not with luck.
But because I had worked for it. I had failed, corrected myself, and kept going.
My knees gave out, and I sat down right there in front of the rock, breathing hard. I looked down at my blade. The edge was even more worn now. It wouldn't hold up much longer. But it had carried me here.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure in the distance, standing behind the trees. Watching.
Junjiro.
He didn't say a word. He just stood there for a moment, then turned and disappeared into the woods.
That was enough for me.
I leaned back in the grass, staring at the sky. The clouds drifted slowly above. The wind felt cool against my face.
The test was over.
I had passed.
But more importantly, I had created something that was mine.
My own sword technique.
My own path forward.
There were still more demons out there. Stronger ones. And I knew I wasn't ready yet. But this… this was the first real step.
I would keep training.
I would keep pushing.
To Be Continued…