Tatsuya hadn't even been able to see his master move—
BOOM!
It was as if a true bolt of golden lightning had struck the mortal realm! His vision was flooded with a blinding golden light, and his ears were filled with nothing but the explosive roar of tearing air. A violent shockwave expanded outward at an unimaginable speed, nearly knocking Tatsuya off his feet, his clothes snapping wildly in the wind.
By the time he managed to recover and blink away the tears caused by the glare, Jigoro Kuwajima was already back in his original spot, looking as if he had never moved an inch.
However, behind where he had just stood, a massive cedar tree—thick enough for two men to embrace—bore a scorched slash mark as smooth as a mirror. Wisps of blue smoke drifted lazily from the cut.
The clearing was deathly silent. Only the lingering, skin-prickling rumble of thunder and the faint scent of ozone in the air proved that what had just happened wasn't an illusion.
Tatsuya's mouth hung open. His golden pupils contracted to needle-points from the sheer shock. His mind was a total blank, occupied only by that single streak of golden lightning that had rent heaven and earth—faster than the limits of vision and thought.
"That... that was... Thunder Breathing... Thunderclap and Flash?!"
Jigoro Kuwajima relaxed his stance and turned to his dumbfounded disciple. A trace of hidden satisfaction flashed in his eyes as he spoke solemnly:
"This is the world you are about to step into."
In the clearing, Kuwajima's expression was grave as he began to explain the essence of Thunder Breathing.
"Listen, Tatsuya. This Breathing Style is not a simple gasp for air." He pointed to his own chest. "You must use a specific rhythm to draw the breath deep into your core, passing through the solar plexus and circulating through the meridians like a racing current, connecting every limb and bone. Imagine that you aren't inhaling air, but the very lightning of heaven and earth. Let it flow and accumulate within you, finally transforming into the power to slay demons."
Kuwajima explained the depth and rhythm of the breath, as well as the key pressure points and paths the energy must take. He pointed them out on Tatsuya's body, helping him map out the internal circuit.
Tatsuya held his breath and concentrated, attempting it as instructed. He closed his eyes, reciting the mantra Kuwajima had taught: "Breath sinks into the core, like thunder being born; follow the veins and pulses, swift as sparks and flint; exhale like a crack of thunder, gather but do not scatter..."
At first, it was stagnant. Every lungful of sweet mountain air felt like a searing, stinging pain in his chest. But as he followed the mantra's guidance, he soon felt his chest cavity open further, like a shriveled balloon being blown taut. A strange sense of "flow" appeared.
Tatsuya felt as if faint currents of electricity were actually darting through his body in rhythm with his breath, bringing a lightness and power he had never known. It felt as though he had a natural affinity for this energy.
"Master!" Tatsuya opened his eyes in surprise. "I felt it! The breath is so obedient! It just went 'shua' and flowed right through! Is Thunder Breathing naturally familiar with me or something?"
Kuwajima's expression didn't change as he snorted. "It's only because I've spent the last three months hammering your stubborn iron into a decent shape. Your body has merely gained the basic qualification to be a vessel. Curb your arrogance; you've only just touched the threshold. You're far from being a master!"
However, the old man's inner monologue was quite different: What an incredible brat! Most people take a month or two just to grasp the sensation of the internal current, yet it's as natural as a survival instinct for him! His compatibility with Thunder Breathing is nothing short of monstrous!
But on the surface, he remained as calm as a deep pool, simply nodding with feigned gravity. "Being able to breathe while standing still is nothing. The real show is just beginning, Tatsuya."
Tatsuya soon learned what the "real show" was.
In the following days, the grueling training didn't decrease; instead, a new "iron rule" was added: Total Concentration Breathing had to be integrated into all daily routines. This meant that whether he was running up steep mountain paths with weights, navigating the trap-filled forest, or doing tedious swings and strength training, he had to maintain that specific rhythm at all times.
At first, it was pure misery.
During the weighted endurance runs, he would focus so much on making his breath "sink into his core and circulate" that he'd lose focus on his surroundings. With a thud, he'd step squarely into a camouflaged pitfall and face-plant in the dirt.
"Your rhythm broke! Are you so busy panting that you can't see the road? Again!" Kuwajima's roar would immediately come from behind him.
During the obstacle courses, he would focus entirely on dodging bamboo spears and swinging logs. Just as he was feeling proud of his agility, he'd suddenly find himself short of breath. His smooth rhythm would shatter, his chest would tighten, and his movements would become clunky.
"Lack of focus! Are you a goldfish with a seven-second memory? Maintain the breath! Maintain it!" Kuwajima's cane would slam into the ground with dissatisfaction.
Strength training and swings were a total disaster area. He had to coordinate the breathing rhythm with muscular exertion. He'd hold his breath to lift a heavy stone lock, only for the breath to get stuck at a certain node, preventing the power from transferring smoothly. He'd turn beet-red, and the lock would barely leave the ground.
"Coordination! You need coordination between breath and action! Are your body and lungs fighting a civil war? If you can't unify them, get off this mountain and stop wasting my time!" Kuwajima's critiques were like cold blades, stabbing exactly where it hurt.
Kuwajima's prodding was like an eternal thunderstorm, striking at Tatsuya's laziness and mistakes. Tatsuya gritted his teeth through the failures and body-wide aches, muttering to himself: "Hah... I'm like a stupid mule learning to walk on two legs for the first time..."
After falling off a balance log for the umpteenth time, he lay sprawled in the snow, staring at the sky. "It feels like my body and my breath are from two different families. My brain wants them to get along, but they insist on fighting a war inside me..."
However, despite the complaints, Tatsuya's stubborn refusal to lose—combined with his extraordinary natural talent—meant he wasn't broken by the difficulty. He was like a greedy sponge, absorbing lessons from every failure.
After several days of near-sleepless torture, the breakthrough finally arrived.
During a morning weighted run, a flash of insight hit him. The breath he had been forcing began to align naturally with the rhythm of his stride. As the air circulated, the weight on his legs seemed to lighten, and his steps became powerful and effortless. When he swung his wooden sword, the breath was no longer a burden competing for his attention, but the very source that drove his explosive power and stabilized his blade.
By the end of the session, though he was drenched in sweat, his breathing was longer and steadier than ever before. He wiped the sweat from his chin and felt the faint, warm "thunder" flowing within him. He grinned at Kuwajima.
"Master! Did you see that? I felt it! The breath and the movement... they just clicked!"
"Hehe, I finally feel a bit of that 'Man and Blade as One' vibe—no, 'Man and Breath as One'? What do you think? Your disciple's adaptability is pretty good, right?" His golden eyes sparkled with pride, practically begging for a shred of validation.
Kuwajima did not disappoint. "Mm. It seems my time spent running up and down with you wasn't a total waste. Adapting this quickly shows your aptitude is acceptable."
Tatsuya beamed like a child who had just been given candy.
But the good times didn't last. Two days after his breakthrough, Kuwajima announced a new "torture" upgrade.
"From today, all weights are doubled," the old man said flatly, as if talking about the weather. "And, you must constantly divide your attention to dodge my 'beans'."
"Weights... doubled?!" Tatsuya's eyes twitched as he looked at the much thicker sandbags. "Master, did I eat too much and offend you?"
"Stop talking!" Kuwajima glared. "In a real fight with a Nichirin Sword, the load on your body is far heavier than this, and a demon's strength is beyond your imagination! If you can't handle this burden, go home and plant rice!"
Tatsuya gritted his teeth and thought: Master seems to have forgotten I was a hunter before I came here... But he silently strapped the weights on and adjusted his breathing.
The adaptation process was brutal. Every step felt like pulling his feet out of thick sludge. Every jump felt as if he might fall like a stone. Even basic swings made his arms throb and tremble. His breathing rhythm broke frequently under the strain.
"Too slow! Maintain the breath! You sound like a broken bellows!" Kuwajima was as strict as ever.
"Ma... Master... this is... too heavy..." Tatsuya squeezed the words out.
"Heavy? A demon's claws are heavier! Get used to it or get torn apart! Let the breath support your body, don't let your body drag down the breath!"
Under this relentless guidance and his own stubbornness, it took Tatsuya several days to finally get used to the doubled weight. He could eventually coordinate his breathing and even have enough energy to joke around with Kuwajima after a set.
It was exactly at this moment—when his guard was slightly lowered—that Kuwajima leisurely pulled out a small cloth pouch.
"Look at my memory, I almost forgot. We have this, too."
Whiz! A simple bean flew through the air. It wasn't very fast, but the angle was tricky. Pop! It struck Tatsuya squarely on the forehead as he was resting and drinking water.
"Ow! Master! A sneak attack?!"
"Distraction in battle leads to death!" Kuwajima snorted. "From this moment, bean training begins. You must dodge them during any training."
"Whatever makes you happy, old man!" Tatsuya grumbled.
At first, he didn't care. The speed of a normal bean wasn't hard to dodge even with the weights. He could navigate the obstacle course and easily avoid most of them. On the endurance runs, he'd just shift his stride slightly as a bean whizzed past into the grass. "Heh, is that it?" he thought, almost wanting to laugh.
A few days later, he became a bit overconfident. After dodging a dozen beans in a row, he shouted to Kuwajima: "Master, your bean game is a bit weak, isn't it? Slow and soft. Is your back acting up? Do you want your disciple to give you a massage?"
Kuwajima's eyes narrowed. A faint, almost "kind" smile appeared on his face as he rolled a few beans in his palm. "Oh? Is that so? It seems I've been too gentle with you."
The moment the words left his mouth, Tatsuya's heart skipped a beat. A chill surged up his spine.
He saw a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of golden electricity on his master's fingertips! In the next heartbeat, the ordinary bean seemed to come alive. It tore through the air with a sharp, high-pitched whistle, moving several times faster than before. It was like a steel ball-bearing fired from a gun.
SHING-POP!
"OWWWWW—!"
The bean slammed into Tatsuya's forearm as he raised it to block. It left a vivid red mark, and the bone-deep sting made his entire arm go numb instantly.
"Wait... that... you threw a bean using Thunder Breathing?! Old man, that's cheating! That doesn't count!" Tatsuya cradled his arm, wanting to cry.
Kuwajima snorted, already holding more beans as golden electricity flickered around his fingers. "Cheating? Do demons follow rules? Get ready. The second wave is coming!"
The "Bean Hell" had truly begun.