Chapter 71: Maha's Warning × The Transformed Zigg
"Understood."
Roy's face remained neutral. He finished breakfast methodically, then left Gotoh to clean up. "Don't forget to oil the cane sword."
He stepped out. Gotoh hesitated, finally working up the nerve to advise, "Young master, recently it's better to go along with the master."
"Fine, I'll try my best to make him go along with me." Roy's steps didn't stop as he left.
Gotoh sighed. "What a disaster." He collected the dishes, pushing the food cart to follow.
Summer, 5 AM. The sky was already bright. The young man strolled through the castle corridor, passing the small room, stopping to watch for a while. The TV played cartoons, and the old man sprawled in his recliner, sleeping soundly. As usual, Roy bowed in salute before stepping away.
Maha half-opened his eyes, watching him leave, then turned over to continue sleeping. Fortunately, Zeno had left to execute a mission. Without his disturbance, the old man rarely got to sleep in.
A smile tugged at Roy's lips as he faintly heard snoring. Stepping into the morning glow, he pushed open the training room door.
With a metallic ring, he drew Yukigakure. First, adjusting his breathing and stance, then completely settling his mind. In one moment, the young man gripped the blade with both hands and slashed diagonally. His daily Sun Breathing practice began.
Dance. Concentrated.
Clear Blue Sky. Not concentrated enough.
Raging Sun. Concentrated.
Fake Rainbow. Not concentrated enough.
Time reached noon before he knew it. Accompanied by scorching firelight cutting through the air, Roy sheathed his blade. As expected, he received the status panel notification.
[Notification: "Constitution +0.3" (Note: Your concentration time increased by twenty minutes compared to before)]
This was because his hands had become steadier. Roy recalled what Sakonji Urokodaki said that day. "The steadier the hand, the fiercer the blade." He was gaining insight.
The corner camera flashed red.
In the second-floor master bedroom. The man drank tea with various medicinal herbs while quietly watching television. On screen, the young man drenched in sweat, his swordsmanship increasingly sharp.
"Master's blade, I maintain daily. Whenever you give the order, I'll immediately retrieve it." Silva hadn't left for days, just finishing feeding Kikyo. He impatiently called Tsubone over, selecting tasks Holt had presented.
"No need." Going through the motions without understanding was ultimately futile. He wouldn't say it, so Roy wouldn't know.
The tea emptied, leaving half a cup of medicinal herbs. Silva handed the teacup to Tsubone. "No need to maintain it anymore. I have my own blade." Both hands were blades!
"Yes." Tsubone took the teacup, refilled it with water, then handed it back. "There's another message."
"Speak."
"The ancestor lifted restrictions, permitting the eldest young master to pay respects to Lord Zigg."
"Father told you?"
"No." Tsubone looked intently at Silva. "It was Lord Maha." The old butler reported honestly, "He had me notify you: if you're dissatisfied, find him and take his three lashes too!"
Silva fell silent for a long while. "Understood."
Tsubone nodded, glancing at Kikyo sprawled on the bed, seemingly about to wake again. She bowed and withdrew. The door creaked closed. From inside came "Calculate the time."
Tsubone said, "Yes," her gaze fixed on the television through the glass window, where Roy lovingly wiped his blade. She felt it deeply. 'The weather's changing.'
Braised pig's head, steamed fish, red-braised chicken, freshly cut sausages, vinegar salad, plus a bottle of red wine. With the back kitchen's help, Roy ultimately added a pig's head. Using the chef's suggestion for preparation, stewing with seasoning packets, then cooling and soaking for two hours. Everything was placed on the food cart, with Gotoh pushing it, awaiting his great-grandfather's summons.
6:50 PM. Sunset falling, pale moon rising above the horizon. Tsubone, swinging her pink twin tails, appeared. She bowed in salute, replacing Gotoh and pushing the cart. "Young master, please."
Roy didn't see Maha and frowned. "Great-grandfather isn't coming?"
"Master fears Lord Zigg would be unhappy, so he's not coming."
He's already dead. Why would he care? Roy followed Tsubone suspiciously. The master and servant walked along the corridor toward the underground passage. The deeper they went, the darker it became, adding much lonely cold air.
Soon, a security door forged from refined iron came into view. Two butlers guarding the door were already aged: one scarred and yellow-bearded, one one-eyed and one-handed. Seeing Tsubone, they nodded. Their gazes passed over toward Roy. The young man's heart chilled as he keenly sensed a dangerous aura. Not hostility—purely the inadvertent exposure of the strong.
"Scarface."
"One-Eye."
"Greetings, young master." Both pressed their right hands to their chests, bowing to Roy.
Roy looked intently at them. "Why haven't I seen you before?"
"Young master, just consider us dead." Scarface and One-Eye were succinct. Straightening, they pulled open the security door and gestured. "Please." Their actions were clean and efficient, with no intention to say more. Just closing their mouths, quietly waiting.
Seeing this, Roy stepped inside. Behind him, Tsubone sent the cart in. "I can only escort you here, young master. Enter yourself."
Ahead was a dark, deep passage. Stone walls held two rows of spirit lamps, ghostly green and eerie. Roy immersed himself in a world that felt like entering the Demon Slayer world again. Underfoot stretched an endless snow country. His hair suddenly stood on end.
The security door slammed shut with a heavy clang. Only he remained. He could only steel himself, pushing the cart forward.
One step, two steps. His shoe soles scraped against the stone path, making soft sounds. Passing through the passage, Roy raised his head, seeing a heavy moisture-proof airtight door. The door was spotless, reflecting a faint metallic luster—clearly someone wiped it daily.
Roy thought of Scarface and One-Eye, turning to look. Click, click. Unexpectedly, the airtight door responded, actually opening itself. From inside emerged a giant tentacle, wrapping around the cart, dragging it into the room. One second later, it threw the cart back out. Looking again, all the meat was gone—only some vegetable leaves remained. Apparently rejected.
"Grandfather Zigg?"
This was paying respects? Roy was shocked, instinctively reaching for his blade—only grasping air. Only then did he remember that Yukigakure had been left on the blade rack.
Panicking, the tentacle emerged again, faster than Father Silva's three lashes. It coiled around him and pulled him backward into the room.
'Such powerful Ten. I can't resist at all!' As his consciousness faded, Roy only felt the world spinning. With his last bit of awareness, he looked over: a giant eyeball with countless tentacles, kindly watching him.
"It's my grandson. Re: Game of the Dead, activate."
Dazed, Roy faintly heard an aged voice. When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed. What met his eyes was a towering sandworm drilling up from the ground, stirring wind and clouds, releasing a fierce howl!
"ROAR!"