In the kendo club dojo, the members knelt on the floor, ready to watch the match between their captain and vice-captain. Takamachi Kyoya was like a god in their eyes. They knew that their team couldn't make it to the national championships because they were the ones holding the team back. Their new vice-captain was also a monster. He had just joined the club yesterday and seemed like a rookie, but then he took down a high school delinquent with a single strike. He used a standard bamboo sword, yet he left a dent in the opponent's face mask and even broke the sword. His strength was terrifying. They held their breath, witnessing a duel between two masters.
Suddenly, Takamachi Kyoya made the first move and charged forward. His eyes widened under his face mask, and his brow was tightly furrowed.
"Gatotsu!"
He let out a powerful shout. Gatotsu was a strong, high-speed thrust. This surprise, close-range move's extreme speed often made it difficult for opponents to block. The sword moved before his voice could finish echoing.
Hiratsuka Ryosuke twisted his body, evading the attack, and used the centrifugal force of his spin to launch a powerful counter-strike.
"Ryū Tsui Sen!"
Bang!
Takamachi Kyoya successfully blocked the strike, but the powerful force made his hand tingle.
"He's so strong. Is this what real swordsmanship is?" one member asked, his voice filled with shock.
"This is the romance of the Bakumatsu swordsmen! General Yoshiteru is here to witness your legend!" Zaizen Yoshiteru shouted excitedly.
At that moment, no one cared about his chuunibyo words. Their attention was completely focused on the two fighting in the ring. They were witnessing not the formal sparring of modern kendo, but the dangerous and unpredictable duel of ancient sword styles!
Eriri drew with incredible focus. Her sketchbook was filled with drawings of the two clashing. Her inspiration was flowing like a fountain, and she was already planning how to turn these into commercial illustrations.
Hiratsuka Ryosuke and Takamachi Kyoya's attention was fully on each other. The club members were focused on the two duelists. No one noticed that an old man in his sixties had walked in with a look of disbelief on his face.
"Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu? I thought this style had vanished into the river of history. Has it reappeared?" the old man murmured to himself. He was Takamachi Kyoya's master and a descendant of Saitō Hajime. He was just passing by Sogabu Middle School and wanted to check on his disciple. He never expected to see this.
The old man tightened his withered hand and watched his disciple's duel without blinking. The two in the ring were in the midst of a fierce battle. Their bamboo swords were pressed against each other, and they were in a power struggle. But it didn't last long, and they both jumped back a step.
Takamachi Kyoya bent his knees again, preparing to use his Gatotsu stance.
"Hiratsuka, you're very strong. The rules of modern kendo tournaments restrict my true strength, and you are the only one who has pushed me this far." Takamachi Kyoya's expression was serious, and his words were filled with praise. He continued in a loud voice, "My next move is something I have practiced for ten years, until it became second nature. Watch closely; this is the true essence of my Gatotsu!"
In an instant, Takamachi Kyoya's aura changed completely, becoming razor-sharp.
"Gatotsu Zero Style!"
Takamachi Kyoya launched an incredibly powerful thrust, faster than before.
"He missed?!" he thought to himself in disbelief, but his internal alarm was blaring. The forward momentum left him no time to turn, and he subconsciously used a sideways ground roll to get out of the way.
Hiratsuka Ryosuke had anticipated the Gatotsu Zero Style before it even happened, using the side wall to leap high into the air. He was now in midair.
"Ryū Tsui Sen · Zan!"
Using the high jump, he unleashed a terrifying sword technique—a vertical strike from above.
Thump!
The tip of the sword struck the wooden floor with a dull sound. Even though he had held back, the bamboo sword still deformed.
"Captain, you are also the strongest person... among my peers that I have ever met," Hiratsuka Ryosuke replied seriously.
When he fought Himura Kenshin, he was easily defeated, and when he fought Mihashi, he easily defeated the opponent. Both were completely one-sided. Takamachi Kyoya was the first person he had fought who could go toe-to-toe with him. After this exchange, he had a rough estimate of his opponent's strength. If this was Takamachi Kyoya's limit, then Ryosuke was slightly stronger. He still held back some of his true killing moves, which are not suitable for sparring. After all, not everyone is like Himura Kenshin, who knows his moves and is strong enough to counter them. Many of his killing moves are, in fact, lethal.
The two of them, in perfect sync, made the same choice. They stood at a distance, their swords sheathed and their bodies coiled with energy.
"They're going to settle this with a draw-cut?" The old man narrowed his eyes. He had already figured out their plan. As for the others, they were so stunned by the horrifying duel they had just witnessed that they didn't dare to breathe. The spacious kendo dojo was silent.
Takamachi Kyoya moved. He pushed off with his toes, leaping forward and performing a kesa-giri (a diagonal cut from the top-right to the bottom-left). Hiratsuka Ryosuke was faster. He placed his hand on the end of his sword's handle and twisted his wrist. He swung his sword horizontally at a faster speed, placing it directly above Takamachi Kyoya's sword, forming a perpendicular angle. He then used his full strength to strike Takamachi Kyoya's bamboo sword and followed with a simple, downward counter-cut. It all happened in a flash.
Crack!
A crisp sound echoed in the dojo, and the winner was decided. One of the bamboo swords had broken. You could have heard a pin drop in the dojo.
Takamachi Kyoya froze, his right hand still trembling. When he came to his senses, he dropped the broken half of his bamboo sword. He then took off his face mask, revealing a hearty smile, with no sign of the gloom of defeat. The rules of modern kendo tournaments were too restrictive for him. So, when he failed to rank in the national kendo championships, he felt a sense of resentment. He had always believed that he wasn't weaker than those who ranked higher. But now, after giving his all and losing to Hiratsuka Ryosuke, all his resentment vanished. Now he knew there was always someone better.
"Vice-Captain, you've bested me! Haha!" Takamachi Kyoya admitted defeat cheerfully.
Hiratsuka Ryosuke also removed his face mask, and a rare smile appeared on his usually stoic face. He bowed deeply to Takamachi Kyoya. "Thank you for the match, Captain!"
Takamachi Kyoya returned the bow. A duel of ancient sword styles had come to an end.
Applause erupted in the dojo. The club members had truly been enlightened today, and their passion for kendo was now even stronger. They realized that it was only they who were weak; both their captain and vice-captain were incredibly powerful. Even Hayama Hayato was emotionally moved and made a silent vow to practice kendo with more dedication.
Takamachi Kyoya caught a glimpse of the old man and his face changed. He turned and bowed deeply. "Master!"
The club members just now noticed the stranger. They all cleared a path for the old man.
"You've done well, Kyoya," Saitō said, nodding in satisfaction. Losing and winning are part of a swordsman's life, and practicing swordsmanship is all about training the mind. He knew his disciple's resentment and unwillingness to lose. He was even happier that the loss had dispelled that resentment and changed his disciple's mindset.
Takamachi Kyoya straightened up and introduced him to everyone. "This is my master, the modern sword saint and head of the Muga-ryu ancient sword style, Master Saitō!"
Everyone present gasped. A sword saint isn't a rank but an honorific for exceptionally powerful swordsmen. For example, Kamiizumi Nobutsuna of the Shinkage-ryu and Sakamoto Ryoma of the Hokushin Ittō-ryu are famous historical sword saints. In the modern era, where swordsmanship has declined, very few people are given this title.
"It's incredible that the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu still has a successor. It's truly moving," Saitō said, his eyes filled with nostalgia. His ancestor, Saitō Hajime, was a rival of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu's "Battōsai the Manslayer" and was defeated by him. When Saitō was young, he also fought a successor of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu and was also outmatched. Now, his last disciple has met a successor of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu and was defeated as well. This made him sigh in wonder, "Is this fate?"
"Young man, what did your master give you when he granted you your menkyo?" the old man asked, his gaze fixed on Hiratsuka Ryosuke. According to his family's records, the inherited object of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu represents two paths. One is the long sword "Kikkō Sentōgetsu" and a cloak, representing slaughter. The other is the reverse-blade sword "Shinsō," representing protection.
Hiratsuka Ryosuke didn't know the deeper meaning of the old man's words, but he decided to be truthful.
"A sword, the reverse-blade sword, Shinsō."
Saitō was surprised. He could tell Ryosuke wasn't lying.
"It seems your master is also a very interesting person. I hope to meet him someday. Young man, I look forward to your future," Saitō said with a laugh, then spoke a few cryptic words before leaving.
Everyone was still excited about meeting a modern sword saint.
Eriri's sketchbook was now filled with more and more drawings of Hiratsuka Ryosuke, and she was satisfied as she put it in her bag. She couldn't believe she had learned so much just by coming to the kendo club. Hiratsuka Ryosuke always brought new surprises. Just when she thought she understood him, he would show a new side. This made her incredibly curious about him. She had no romantic experience and didn't realize that when a girl becomes curious about a boy, it's often the beginning of a fall.
Right now, she was just happy to have collected so much reference material. Eriri bit her lip, and a deep blush appeared on her porcelain-like face. She decided that when she got home tonight, she would have a drawing marathon.