"Huff..."
Tachibana Kyūjō took a deep breath, activating Water Breathing to steady his body as he tried to keep up with the insane speed unleashed by Thunder Breathing.
In the blink of an eye, he swung his sword to intercept Jigorō's attack.
Their blades clashed, sparks dancing through the crisp morning air like tiny fireflies, turning the once calm courtyard into a battlefield.
Jigorō frowned slightly as he felt the flow of Kyūjō's breathing. There was sothing off—no, sothing unnaturally precise. His expression shifted, as if he wanted to say sothing, but he held his breath to avoid disrupting his own Breathing Pattern.
Instead, he gripped the hilt of his Nichirin Blade tighter and pressed forward with full force.
Kyūjō instantly felt the weight behind that blow. His brow twitched.
This old man's seriously not holding back! Charging at with this kind of raw power… that's just not fair!
"What kind of adult attacks a fourteen-year-old like this...? This is abuse." The thought flashed through Kyūjō's mind, tinged with dry amusent.
There was no way he could brute-force his way through that pressure. If he tried, he'd have to use every muscle in his body—including the ones near his still-healing ribs. But this was training, not a battle to the death.
After a split-second calculation, Kyūjō made his decision.
He jumped off the ground, letting go of his stance and allowing himself to be launched backward by the force of Jigorō's blade.
Everyone knew the rule: never let both feet leave the ground in a fight. If you lost your footing, you lost control. For high-level swordsn, even a split-second mistake could decide the outco.
There were two reasons for that.
First, strength cos from the ground. Without a firm stance, there's no way to unleash your full power.
Second, gravity has no rcy. Once you're airborne, you're just waiting to fall—and when you fall, your body becos almost impossible to control.
Right now, Kyūjō was in that exact position.
But it wasn't an accident. He had prepared for this.
His right foot would land in about 0.3 seconds.
Add another 0.2 to 0.4 seconds to stabilize, and he'd need roughly 0.5 to 0.7 seconds to regain full control.
For a normal opponent, that wasn't enough ti to punish him.
But Kyūjō's opponent… was none other than the forr Thunder Hashira—Kuwajima Jigorō!
A true lightning swordsman wouldn't waste even a heartbeat.
In fact, this opportunity had been set up on purpose.
Jigorō had no intention of seriously hurting the boy. What he wanted… was for Kyūjō to understand.
"Don't push yourself when you're injured."
And more importantly—
"If you ignore your elders, be ready for the consequences."
He activated his technique in silence, lightning crackling faintly around his body.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash."
In the blink of an eye, he launched himself forward using his prosthetic leg as a pivot. His body beca a streak of pure electricity, cutting through the air toward Kyūjō—who was still mid-air!
— — —
But just as Jigorō closed the gap—only a hair's breadth between them—his expression twisted in shock.
Sothing wasn't right.
Kyūjō's sword… was guiding him. Every twitch of Jigorō's muscles, every shift in his stance—it was as if the boy knew.
Left, right—his movents were being read before he even made them.
It was like he was dancing to the rhythm of Kyūjō's blade.
By the ti he realized it, Kyūjō had already landed, feet firmly planted, breathing calm and eyes alert.
Jigorō sheathed his sword, a strange look on his face, and asked quietly:
"…How did you do that?"
Of course, he knew it wasn't Kyūjō's sword that had taken control of him.
But still, sohow, his own movents had been predicted and countered.
Even if his raw speed still exceeded the boy's, in that explosive mont, he couldn't maintain perfect accuracy. And with only one leg, he no longer had the sharp control he once did.
That… was where Kyūjō found his opening.
It was like driving at 150 kiloters per hour—you could still maintain control. But once you reached 250 or 300, you started losing grip. You couldn't steer the sa way anymore.
To dodge Kyūjō's blade, Jigorō had two options:
One, go so fast that Kyūjō had no ti to react.
Two, maintain his top speed and perfect control over every motion.
If he managed either, Kyūjō wouldn't be able to predict or counter.
But of course, this was just training. Not a real fight.
If Jigorō had co at him with killing intent, Kyūjō wouldn't have stood a chance.
Relaxing slightly, Kyūjō sheathed his blade, walked over, and slung an arm around Jigorō's shoulder with a big grin.
"So? What do you think, Oyaji? Want to teach you? Let's talk it over in the kitchen."
Their relationship was the kind you built by crossing swords—and after Kyūjō had slain a Lower Moon demon, Jigorō didn't mind being treated a little casually.
Even though he clearly wanted to ask sothing, Jigorō kept his pride. He stayed silent.
Kyūjō chuckled inwardly and started explaining.
"The reason I was able to read your movents back there… is actually pretty simple."
He paused for effect.
Jigorō's eyebrows twitched.
"…And that reason is? Spit it out already."
Kyūjō stopped walking and looked him dead in the eye.
"Because I can see it."
"…Are you ssing with , boy?!"
Kyūjō waved his hands defensively.
"Whoa, calm down! Let explain properly!"
And so, he began to describe the Transparent World—a high-level technique that allowed one to see every detail inside their opponent's body. Muscle tension, blood flow, breathing rhythm—everything.
As Kyūjō talked, Jigorō's expression shifted from annoyed, to curious… then astonished…
…then completely blank.
Who am I? Where am I? What was I doing again...?
Kyūjō could only sigh and slap his forehead when he saw that expression—like a schoolboy spacing out during the most basic lecture.
Of course, not everyone was like Kamado Tanjirō, who could enter the Transparent World after a single emotional flashback.
Kyūjō ant well. He knew Jigorō's missing leg had taken a toll on his strength.
But if the old man could master the Transparent World… it might help offset his physical limitations.
After all, Jigorō used to be hailed as the strongest swordsman in the entire Demon Slayer Corps.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem like the concept was sticking.
Not until Kyūjō had finished his eighth bowl of breakfast did Jigorō suddenly shout with excitent:
"I rember!"
Kyūjō turned around imdiately, eyes wide.
"What do you rember?!"
"The na of that technique! Transparent World! My master ntioned it once!"
"…And?"
"That's all!"
"…"
Kyūjō let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"After all that explaining… the only thing you rembered was the na?!"
Seeing the boy's utterly defeated expression, Jigorō burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Well, I may not be able to use that technique of yours, but don't worry—I've got sothing I can teach you too!"
— — —
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