"I will find the girl who knocked me out… and take her home with me."
After all… it would be such a shame if talent weren't cultivated properly.
Why'd she knock me out anyway? I was trying to do a good deed…
However, the instant those words leave my mouth, the air changes.
This peasant… is exuding an absurd amount of killing intent.
I can see the rage.
Interesting. So he's up for a challenge, huh?
"Finally had enough laughs?" I say, holding up a hand. "I'll go easy on yo—"
He vanishes.
My Instinct screams.
I twist my torso just as something crashes into my ribs.
BOOM.
The impact hurls me backward, feet carving trenches through the dirt. My back slams into a tree trunk hard enough to crack it.
…What?
That wasn't a normal person's strike.
That wasn't even a Martial Apprentice's strike!
Impossible! I'm using my Divine Arsenal!
Could he be… a Squire? A spy?
I cough, tasting blood, and look up just in time to see him already there.
Again.
Too fast!
I bring my axe up by reflex.
CLANG.
The blow rattles my bones. My arms scream as I skid backward again. Fortunately, my Onyx Tiger Masakari can withstand even Master-level attacks, especially when reinforced by my Divine Arsenal.
He doesn't let up.
He let out a flurry of kicks, punches, elbows, knees, thrusts.
No form.
No pattern.
Just power.
Raw. Stupid. Overwhelming.
It's suffocating... but doable.
"PATHETIC!" I bark. "FOR A SQUIRE, YOU'RE SO WEAK!"
"I'LL CRUSH YOU!"
and convert you to my clan!, I add silently.
He doesn't seem to hear me.
Or worse—he does.
And doesn't care.
Another blow slams into my guard. My heels dig in. The ground cracks.
Damn it.
My arm is shaking from all the blocking…
This monster...
I leap back, finally forcing distance between us.
He doesn't chase immediately.
He's shaking.
Not from exhaustion.
Seemingly from restraint.
"…You," he growls. "Say that again."
I take a breath.
"For a Martial Squire, your martial arts seem subpar," I say quickly.
His head snaps up.
"…What?"
"I said," I repeat, louder, "as a Martial Squire, your skills are subpar."
He looks confused, so I clarify. "If you joined our clan, with our resources like training, techniques, nutrition—you could become much stronger!"
"Shut the fuck up," he growls.
Well… looks like Plan B it is.
B as in Beat some sense into him.
Father always used plan B.
His peasant Martial Squire pride probably can't accept defeat. Maybe I'll be the first in Sekigahara to defeat a Martial Squire as a Martial Apprentice!
"Why the fuck would I join your clan if you want to defile my sister?" he says calmly, radiating a deep killing intent.
"…Understandable, let's contin—WHAT?" I shout.
What did he just say?
That was ridiculous enough to make me lose focus!
Ridiculous enough for my Divine Arsenal to flicker off.
"WAIT. Let me clarify something."
"I don't want to marry her," I say flatly.
…
Suddenly, he's at my side again.
His rage has intensified.
He winds up a powerful midair kick. Predictable. I block—
—huh?
I'm flying?
I definitely blocked that!
I skid across the ground but manage to land on my feet.
My ribs scream.
Broken… such power.
Why did that make him more angry? I just said I didn't want to marry his sister??
…Wait.
Oh.
"WAIT! I DON'T PLAN ON DOING ANYTHING HARMFUL TO YOUR SISTER, YOU BASTARD!"
The rage flickers.
Just a little.
"She's strong," I continue. "Strong enough to knock me out cold with one hit. You know how rare that is in the countryside?"
He doesn't answer.
"I wanted to recruit her," I say. "Into my clan. That's all."
Silence.
I press on. "Gathering powerful martial artists brings contribution points. Prestige. Stability. It strengthens everyone."
I scoff. "Marriage? Gods no. My mother would kill me. If I defiled someone? She'd hang me upside down over burning candles…"
"Me.. the great Katsui Shibata. Unthinkable."
The boy stares, unconvinced.
"What about the girl you harassed earlier?"
"Harassed?" I snap. "She bumped into me. I was helping her up—"
"…By grabbing her chin?"
Oh.
Damnation...
…That is embarrassing.
"I was excited," I snap. "I've… only... ever read about organic encounters like that in novels."
My fists clench.
"…It was an honest mistake. I thought it was the right thing to do."
He blinks.
Silence stretches.
He exhales.
Once.
Twice.
Then he laughs.
Maybe he isn't a spy after all?
He rolls on the floor, laughing his ass off.
Laughing a bit too much.
Bastard. Does he really want to fight again?
"…You should've explained!" he says.
"I was trying to, you peasant," I reply. "So, have you made up your mind about joining our clan?"
His laughter dies. He wipes a tear from his eye.
"Nope!"
"Good, I'll handle the pape—what do you mean nope?"
"I'll only join if you can beat me," he says smugly.
…Fine.
If words won't work—
Then I'll beat sense into him.
I can see why father loves plan B.
"Then come!" I roar, reigniting my Divine Arsenal. Feeding it with the rage from his refusal.
He comes at me like before.
Fast. Brutal. Overwhelming.
But now?
I see it.
His footwork is sloppy.
His strikes are wide and inconsistent.
He relies too much on recovery speed instead of positioning.
He's strong.
Stronger than me.
Faster than me.
Tougher than me.
Expected of a squire…
But somehow...
He fights like he doesn't know how to fight.
Weird. How does someone reach that realm with so little refinement?
I shift my stance.
Let the first punch graze past my cheek.
Step inside the second.
Hammer the blunt end of my weapon into his ribs.
He grunts, but doesn't fall.
Of course he doesn't.
I follow with a knee, then a swift axe sweep.
He flips midair, attempting another cheeky counterkick.
Remembering that invisible kick, I back away instead of blocking.
He lands awkwardly.
There.
That hesitation.
I press.
I stop meeting him head-on.
Instead, I redirect.
Every strike becomes stolen momentum.
Every charge becomes an opening.
My Masakari moves like an extension of my body; shaft jabbing, butt striking, blade threatening without committing.
My Martial Path is Crashing Strikes. I specialize in breaking defenses using my weapon, body, anything I can use. I myself am a weapon whose purpose is to smash things.
Unfortunately, against an agility-type martial artist, it's not ideal.
Especially when my opponent is a full realm above me.
But somehow… I can't believe I'm winning.
He adapts.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
I slam the haft into his shoulder. Twist. Pull.
He crashes to the ground.
I plant my foot on his chest.
Victory.
"See?" I say. "Power without Techniques are just—"
His tail clamps around my ankle.
I feel it before I see it.
The killing intent.
Dense. Heavy.
Like the air just learned how to hate.
Most importantly, he started to to have a deep maroon colored aura.
My eyes widen.
"Divine—where did you learn that?! WHO ARE YOU?" I yell.
He looks up at me.
And smiles.
"Just some rural peasant kid," he says. "With a tail."
The ground explodes.
My foot is ripped away as he rises, aura erupting like a forge opening its gates.
Divine Arsenal?
How?? Who is this guy?
…I don't see a weapon.
The pressure crushes my lungs.
Damnation... is he twice as strong now?
My Masakari screams in my grip.
I can't shake his tail off—I have to cut it!
My instincts howl.
"RAAAAA!"
Too late.
He moves.
I don't see the strike.
I feel it.
Once.
Three times.
Twelve times.
Sixty times.
Three Hundred Sixty times.
My body lifts like a ragdoll.
If not for his tail anchoring me, I'd be flying into the forest.
Pain detonates everywhere.
The speed—my brain can't keep up.
Stop.
I can't breathe.
I can't move.
I can barely think.
He finally stops.
I collapse onto the ground like a bloody rag.
The boy looms over me, gripping my dougi. Aura raging. Eyes steady.
"You," he whispers, "are not strong enough to recruit me."
I close my eyes.
…Ah.
So this is how I die.
I wait.
Nothing happens.
I open my eyes. His Divine Arsenal has faded. There's a faint smile in his gaze.
I hear people walking out of their home, having a conversation...
"Who did that?!" a man shouts.
Ah…
I'm saved.