Inside the "Blossom Room" private box, the four competitors had suited up in protective gear, gripping wooden swords as they stood at the center of the sparring area.
Luke stood alone in the middle, while the three master swordsmen—Uesugi Saiji, Tsukahara Nobutomo, and Yagyu Koshiro—formed a triangle around him, boxing him in.
Tsukahara and Yagyu stood tall, their wooden swords pointed directly at Luke, exuding focus. Uesugi, on the other hand, crouched slightly, arms bent, poised like a coiled spring ready to strike.
Luke noticed something distinct about Uesugi's weapon: unlike the others, his wooden sword was sheathed. It rested snugly in its scabbard, the hallmark stance of iaido—the art of the quick draw. This meant that when Uesugi struck, it'd be lightning-fast.
In Japan, iaido master Machii Isao was known for slicing tennis balls traveling at 300 miles per hour and BB pellets at 200 miles per hour. Uesugi Saiji, however, was on another level. His un-drawn sword was a deliberate tactic, creating constant pressure on Luke and drawing his attention, giving Tsukahara and Yagyu openings to attack.
Surrounded by the trio, Luke's face remained blank. He stared at the wooden sword in his hands, as if his opponents didn't even exist.
Uesugi shot a glance at his allies, signaling them to make the first move.
Tsukahara and Yagyu sprang forward, their wooden swords slicing through the air with deadly intent, aimed straight at Luke. Meanwhile, Uesugi lurked on the sidelines, watching like a hawk, ready to unleash a devastating iaido strike the moment he saw an opening.
The two swordsmen attacked simultaneously, their blades slashing at Luke from different angles. If he focused on countering one, he could likely take them out in a single move—but that would leave him vulnerable to the other, not to mention Uesugi waiting for his chance.
It was practically a checkmate.
"Even if Luke's a Sword Saint, there's no way he can handle this seamless teamwork, right?" Nakamura Takeshi muttered, shaking his head.
Unlike the three swordsmen, Nakamura had no personal stake in the match. Deep down, he wasn't rooting for Luke to win. Sure, Luke was his guest, but if he crushed Japanese kendo into dust, it'd bruise the national pride Nakamura had always cherished.
"Luke's got this," Mr. Eisen replied confidently, brushing off Nakamura's doubt. Luke had pulled off countless miracles before—this wouldn't be any different.
In the arena, Luke didn't retreat under the three-pronged assault. Instead, he charged forward.
With a sharp flick of his right hand, he hurled his wooden sword like a missile.
Whoosh!
Thrown with the precision of a master knife-thrower, the sword struck Tsukahara's padded headgear with pinpoint accuracy.
Thud!
The impact sent Tsukahara reeling backward, dazed for a moment.
In the same instant, Luke darted to his left, bare-handed, rushing straight toward Yagyu as his wooden sword swung down.
"What the—?!"
Yagyu's school, the famed Yagyu Shinkage-ryu, was renowned for its "no-sword" techniques—disarming opponents empty-handed. He was no stranger to this kind of fight. But Luke's speed and movement were beyond anything he'd ever seen.
Before Yagyu could process it, Luke closed the gap, weaving around him in a blur. Yagyu felt his arms go limp as Luke's technique redirected his momentum, pulling him forward a few stumbling steps.
When Yagyu regained his bearings, his wooden sword was gone—now in Luke's hands. Worse, he'd been maneuvered into a position that blocked Uesugi's line of attack, sealing off his iaido strike.
Both Uesugi and Yagyu were stunned.
Yagyu couldn't believe it. He'd spent his life mastering no-sword techniques, yet Luke had disarmed him effortlessly and used him to neutralize Uesugi's attack angle.
Uesugi, meanwhile, was floored. The situation had flipped in an instant, and he hadn't even had a chance to draw his sword.
In mere moments, Luke had effectively taken out two of the three swordsmen. Only Uesugi remained.
Did he even need to draw his sword now?
Yes.
This duel wasn't just about winning or losing. For Uesugi, it was about chasing the ultimate heights of kendo in real combat. Even if drawing his sword meant certain defeat, even if Luke would take him down in one strike, he had to face his opponent head-on. Otherwise, the mental shadow of hesitating would haunt him forever.
Luke gave Uesugi a small, encouraging smile, gesturing for him to attack.
Summoning his courage, Uesugi stepped forward with fluid footwork and unleashed an iaido strike.
Thud!
The wooden swords collided with a dull thud. As expected, Luke blocked it with ease.
But to Uesugi's surprise, Luke didn't counter immediately.
It clicked: Luke wasn't planning to end it in one blow. He wanted to spar a bit longer, to guide Uesugi through a few more exchanges.
Emboldened, Uesugi swung again, his attacks fierce and direct, each strike carrying the weight of a thunderstorm. But to Luke, every move seemed to have a glaring flaw.
Luke sidestepped smoothly, his wooden sword gliding like a whisper, effortlessly deflecting Uesugi's onslaught. With a quick flick, he countered, his blade aimed straight at Uesugi's chest.
Uesugi didn't bother defending. He lunged forward, desperate to land even a glancing blow on Luke's clothing.
Thud!
Luke's sword, deceptively slow yet impossibly fast, struck Uesugi's chest protector first, sending him staggering back several steps before he collapsed onto the floor.
Despite the padding, the force left Uesugi gasping for air.
He'd lost.
His only regret was that, even throwing caution to the wind, he hadn't managed to nick even a thread of Luke's clothes.
In just a few exchanges, Luke had defeated the combined assault of three master swordsmen.
The trio rose to their feet and approached Luke, bowing deeply in unison. "Thank you, Sensei, for your guidance. We humbly ask to follow you and climb the endless peaks of kendo."
Luke stood tall, accepting their respect without hesitation. He'd earned it.
Today, he'd taken on three Japanese students. He'd teach them a few kendo techniques, but he'd keep the secrets of martial arts to himself.
With the influence of these kendo legends, Luke had also laid the foundation for a network in Japan.
Watching this unfold, Nakamura felt his worldview crack. Three national-treasure-level kendo masters, crushed so easily by Luke?
And they seemed completely awestruck by him.
"Sensei, your swordsmanship is beyond anything we could've imagined," Yagyu said respectfully.
"Is the legendary Sword Saint really as strong as you?" Uesugi asked, curiosity burning.
In Luke's memory, he'd trained relentlessly in various sword and blade techniques for over thirty years, a prodigy from the start. By his tenth year of training, he'd already surpassed the level of Japan's so-called Sword Saints.
To Uesugi's question, Luke only smiled faintly and said, "Sword Saint? I haven't been that for a long time."