Chapter 39: Mastering Zetsu X Kastro
The boy's friend couldn't watch anymore. He tried to intervene, but the man threw a punch at him, roaring, "And you, you so-called 'strongest human'! If you try to lead my son astray again, I'll tear down your precious Hunter Association brick by brick!"
The friend, a man of considerable skill himself, easily dodged the blow and beat a hasty retreat.
Years passed. The boy became a man, and the man grew old. He now sat by the willow tree with his son's son, teaching the small child how to water it, just as he had once taught the boy. Then, a butler came running, his face pale with panic. The man... his son... had gone rogue during a mission, abandoning his post to venture into the Dark Continent.
The old man was silent for a long time. Then he let out a heavy sigh. He had always known. When a person grows too powerful for the world to contain, they will inevitably seek out the forbidden places. He himself had done the same, so long ago. He'd left full of confidence and returned a broken man.
"Father," the boy had whispered, his body ravaged by things unimaginable. "I have no regrets." He had left his life in the Dark Continent, but he had brought back calamities: a Magical Beast, a forbidden object, and a curse.
Many more years passed. The man's hair thinned, and he would often sit and watch his grandson teach his own son how to water the willow tree, his mind lost in memories.
The images shattered like a broken mirror.
Roy's head snapped up. He reached out and caught a single willow branch that was dangling in front of his eyes. A profound sense of understanding washed over him.
"Are you telling me," he whispered to the tree, "that you are my family, too?"
The branch swayed, shielding his face from a ray of hot sun. That's it, he thought. A person is not the only witness to history. It can be a tree, a stone, a river. We are a part of nature, not separate from it. How can one 'merge' with something they have never left? It's not about merging. It's about empathizing.
The aura that naturally leaked from his body suddenly reversed its flow, pouring back inside him. He had closed all his Aura Nodes. He was in a state of Zetsu. His five senses, no longer dulled by the shroud of Ten, became razor-sharp. He could hear the chirping of crickets in the grass. He could smell the faint, lingering scent of coffee on his clothes.
His vision sharpened. His intuition flared. He looked up at the second-floor balcony. A tall, powerful man stood there, his arms crossed, looking down at him.
"Father," Roy said, a smile touching his lips. He'd just witnessed a memory of his grandfather Zeno holding a baby Silva up to pee on this very tree. The man's intimidating presence suddenly seemed a lot less... intimidating.
'In just ten days, he has mastered Zetsu. The Young Master is even more gifted than the Master believed.'
Tsubone, who was giving Silva a report, also noticed the change. To her senses, Roy had simply... vanished. His aura was gone.
"Congratulations, Master," she said with a deep bow. The "mediocre" eldest son was finally living up to his potential.
She then remembered her other duty. "Mistress wished for me to inform the Master that her fertile period has passed..."
"I'm busy," Silva cut her off. His next target was on the Ejan continent. The round trip by airship would take at least ten days. He might not even be back in time for Roy's test. He waved her away.
"Your sword, Young Master." It was five in the evening. Gotoh brought Snow-Walker to the training hall.
Roy, who had been maintaining his state of Zetsu, had sensed the butler's approach long before he arrived. He took the blade, the cold steel a familiar weight in his hand, and drew it.
He held the sword in a two-handed grip, his body lowered into a lunge. He closed his eyes, centered himself for five seconds, and then inhaled sharply. "Sun Breathing, First Form: Dance!"
Concentrated!
The blade flashed. He immediately transitioned into the next move. "Second Form: Blue Heaven!"
Not concentrated!
He stomped his foot, spinning into the next form. "Third Form: Raging Sun!"
Concentrated!
He flowed through the rest of the forms, one after another, chasing that perfect state of Total Concentration. When he finished the twelfth and final form, "Dragon Sun Halo Dance," a fresh scorch mark decorated the wall. He sheathed his sword and took a deep breath.
A new notification on his system panel: [Physique +0.1]
He was making progress. He could now occasionally touch upon the state of Total Concentration: Constant, the art of maintaining the breathing technique at all times, even while sleeping.
This is the advantage of having a master, Roy thought, which in turn made him think of Kastro. The prodigious fighter from Heavens Arena, the one who had developed the "Tiger Bite Fist," had apparently been asking about him.
"Indeed," Gotoh said, as if reading his mind. "A message came from Heavens Arena. Kastro has officially challenged the Young Master to a rematch."