The shaman's voice softened after the heavy night of revelations.
"Go and rest, boy. Training begins tomorrow."
He led Yamato down a narrow hallway and opened the door to a small, empty room. The floor was bare, save for a thin mat.
Yamato nodded quietly and lay down, his heart still heavy with everything he had heard. Sleep eventually took him.
By morning, Yamato woke, dressed, and stepped into the shrine's courtyard, his mind bracing for grueling combat drills or harsh physical tests.
Instead, what he found nearly made his jaw hit the floor.
A low table. Two chairs. A deck of cards.
The shaman sat cross-legged with a sly grin.
"Come," he said. "Sit."
Yamato's face twisted in disbelief. "Wait... hold on. This is training?"
The old man chuckled, shuffling the cards effortlessly. "Yes. Give it a try."
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Yamato dragged himself into the seat, slumping forward with visible annoyance.
The first game ended quickly. The shaman won without breaking a sweat.
"Again," the old man said.
The second game ended even faster. Yamato stared at the cards in his hand, completely defeated.
His irritation boiled.
No way I'm letting this old geezer humiliate me again…
This time, Yamato closed his eyes for a moment.
When they opened again, they glowed faintly blue.
His Six Eyes awakened, threads of possibility unfolding in his vision. Slowly, the patterns of the game came into focus, moves, traps, and the old man's strategies lined up before him like an open book.
The game shifted.
What had been overwhelming minutes ago now began to feel simple.
He read his opponent's hands, adapted to his pace, and turned the tables.
The shaman leaned back, smiling with approval. "Do you understand now?"
Yamato blinked, confused. "Understand what?"
The old man tapped the table with a card. "I am sharpening your mind. Your Blue Eyes are for learning and analysis. With every match, your thinking gets faster, sharper. You'll catch up to anyone."
Yamato sat in silence, staring at the shaman. His annoyance slowly melted into realization.
I thought this guy was just some old geezer… but damn. He actually knows what he's doing.
A faint grin tugged at Yamato's lips. The real training had just begun.
That same morning, just as Yamato was still processing the strange card game training, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the shrine.
A girl stepped in, balancing a basket filled with freshly harvested yam and maize.
Dirt clung lightly to her clothes, but nothing could hide the sharp glow of her features. Yamato froze.
His eyes nearly bulged from his head.
Wait… this old geezer has a daughter like THAT? No way!
She brushed the sweat from her forehead, sighed, and called out, "Dad, I'm home."
The shaman's face brightened instantly.
He hurried to her side with surprising energy. "Hyori! Welcome back, my child."
He turned, gesturing proudly. "Come, I want you to meet my new student. This is Yamato. Yamato, this is my daughter, Hyori."
Yamato straightened, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh… nice to meet you, Hyori."
But she didn't even glance at him. She walked right past, her expression unreadable, and dropped the basket of crops into the storage room.
Yamato's hand twitched as if he had been slapped. Ouch… seriously?
The shaman chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Don't take it to heart. She's not very welcoming. Not like her mother was."
A moment later, the old man raised his voice. "Hyori!" She reappeared at the doorway, arms folded.
"Go get dressed," the shaman said. "You'll be training Yamato in speed today."
Hyori arched an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Fine. But I won't go easy."
Yamato's lips curled into a grin, fire lighting in his eyes. "That's what I want to hear… let's do this."
Hyori stepped out into the courtyard, her long hair tied back, her eyes sharp with determination. She placed a gigantic clay cup in the center of the compound. Its size made it impossible to miss.
When she was done, she pointed at it. "The training is simple. At the count of three, we dash. First person to touch the cup wins."
Yamato cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. "Sounds easy enough. I'm in."
Hyori's expression remained cold as stone.
She raised her hand and began the countdown.
"Three… two… one… GO!"
The instant the word left her lips, the world blurred.
Yamato launched forward with all his might—but before he could even process his stride, Hyori was already halfway across the courtyard.
In the blink of an eye, she stood at the cup, her hand resting lightly against it.
Yamato's eyes widened.
His steps faltered as sweat rolled down his cheek. Wh... what the hell?! That speed…
Hyori smirked, folding her arms. "You're too slow, slowpoke."
Yamato stopped in his tracks, chest heaving. His lips curled into a smile despite the sting of defeat.
"Incredible… such incredible speed…"
Hyori tilted her head, almost amused by his reaction.
Yamato wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened, his eyes glowing faintly blue. "I'm not done yet."
He pointed at the cup, fire burning in his chest. "Let's go again!"
Hyori agreed to continue the training, but the gap between them was merciless.
Again and again, Yamato dashed toward the cup, only to find Hyori already standing there, arms folded, her smirk cutting deeper than the sting of failure.
By the time the sun dipped low, Yamato had been defeated more than twenty times in a row. His legs trembled, his lungs burned, and sweat poured down his face.
Just outside the compound, the old shaman watched silently. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if he noticed something no one else could.
Still, Yamato clenched his fists and forced himself upright. "I'm… not done yet," he said between ragged breaths, his eyes still locked on the cup. "Let's… go again!" Hyori scoffed, turning her back to him.
"Enough. There's no way you can surpass me. I have better things to do than train a whimp."
Her words were sharp, each syllable meant to cut. Without waiting for his reply, she walked away. Later that evening, Hyori met with her father inside their wooden hall.
Her tone was cold, dismissive.
"That boy… he's just like the rest of the past Six Eyes. I think he'll stop at the Blue Eyes without advancing. He's not worth our time."
Her father, the shaman, finally broke his silence.
His wrinkled lips curved into a grin.
"Are you sure, Hyori? Try testing him again tomorrow… and see for yourself."
But Hyori only clicked her tongue and left without another word.
That night, the compound was silent.
The moonlight washed over the courtyard, illuminating the gigantic cup. And there, still running back and forth, his shadow stretching across the ground was Yamato. His legs shook violently with each step, but he didn't stop.
He wouldn't stop.
Hours passed.
The night deepened. And when Hyori finally rose from her bed to fetch a drink of water, she glanced outside the window.
There he was.
Still running.
Still dashing.
Still failing… but never giving up.
Hyori's eyes softened for the briefest moment, then hardened again. "That idiot… he's just going to break down. Nothing more."
She turned away, shutting the window as she walked back to bed. But outside, Yamato's voice echoed into the night.
"I'm not done yet… not until I catch you…" The shaman's grin widened in the dark.
The dawn broke over the compound, golden light spilling across the yard. Hyori stretched awake, rubbing her eyes, only to stop at the sight before her.
There, lying on the dirt, was Yamato.
His body was curled up like he had collapsed mid-step. He must have run until his very soul gave out.
For the first time, a small smile tugged at her lips. He really kept at it the whole night…
Walking over, she nudged him with her foot. "Hey, wake up. Training continues. Go and get ready."
Yamato's eyes snapped open instantly. He didn't even complain.
With a determined nod, he rushed off to refresh himself, returning moments later looking sharp and renewed. His eyes were glowing faintly… calmer, sharper.
The shaman sat cross-legged in his usual spot, watching with quiet intensity. His wrinkled hands gripped his staff. Today will reveal everything, he thought.
Hyori raised her hand.
"Three… two… one… go!"
The moment her words dropped, Yamato didn't just run. He vanished.
A sudden gust of wind brushed past Hyori, rustling her hair.
Her eyes widened as she snapped her head forward, only to see Yamato, standing tall, palm resting casually on the gigantic cup. He had left her frozen at the starting line.
Her jaw tightened. "Tch… Impossible…"
The shaman's eyes glimmered knowingly. So… that's where his true strength lies. Not in raw power… but in the mastery of speed itself.
Yamato smirked, his chest rising with pride. "What's wrong, Hyori? Can't keep up?"
Hyori's blood boiled. "Don't get cocky. I've been holding back until now.
Let's see how long that smug face lasts when I'm at full speed!"
She expected him to flinch. To stutter. To at least hesitate. But Yamato only looked at her with a calm, steady gaze.
"Okay. Bring it on."
Her breath caught. That composure… it was unlike anything she had seen in him yesterday.
The shaman leaned forward slightly, anticipation flickering in his eyes.
Hyori crouched, muscles tensed, ready to unleash everything. "Three… two… one… go!"
She exploded forward like lightning, pouring every ounce of speed she had into her dash. Dust kicked up behind her as the cup grew closer and closer in her sight. But when she reached out to touch it, her heart froze.
Because Yamato was already there.
Not only there, but sitting cross-legged beside the cup, calmly munching on breakfast, as though he had been waiting for her for minutes.
Hyori stumbled to a stop, her mouth agape. "W-what…? How…? HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!"
Yamato glanced up at her, cheeks puffed with food, and simply grinned.
"Told you. I'm not done yet."
The shaman finally burst into laughter, his deep voice echoing through the courtyard. "Hahaha! That's it, Yamato! The eye that sees beyond speed itself… You've awakened it at last."
Hyori stood frozen, her pride shaken. For the first time, she wasn't sure she could win.
Hyori stood frozen, her chest heaving as sweat rolled down her face.
She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.
"How… how did he do that? He was slower than a snail yesterday… and now this?"
Before she could say more, the sound of a wooden staff tapped against the ground.
The shaman walked down slowly from his spot, his wrinkled face calm but his eyes burning with quiet pride. "Don't be shocked yet, my girl," he said with a small grin. "That… wasn't even the Red Eyes. That was still only the Blue Eyes."
Hyori snapped her head toward him. "What?! That was just the Blue?!"
The old man chuckled, lifting a finger.
"The Blue Eyes are not just about wisdom, analysis, or fast learning. They hold a hidden gift… adaptation."
Yamato, meanwhile, was still sitting cross-legged by the cup, happily chewing on his breakfast, looking dumbfounded as if the entire conversation had nothing to do with him.
The shaman pointed his staff at him.
"A normal person would take three… maybe even six years of harsh training to master a technique. But one with the Blue Eyes... someone like Yamato.... can adapt in days. No, in his case, even a single night was enough."
Hyori's eyes widened further. "You mean… in just one night, he…?"
The shaman nodded firmly. "Yes. He has achieved complete mastery of the Blue Eyes. That is his specialty among all Six. The boy has already outdone what past generations could barely begin to grasp."
Hyori felt her stomach twist. Yesterday she had called him a weakling, a waste of time. But now… this "idiot" had surpassed her speed with ease.
Yamato finally looked up from his food, blinking innocently. "Huh? What are you two talking about? I was just… running, that's all."
The shaman burst into laughter, his deep voice echoing through the courtyard.
"Exactly, boy! Running… but in running, you've awakened what countless Six Eyes before you could never achieve. Don't ever underestimate your path again."
Hyori clenched her fists, her pride stung, but deep inside… a spark of excitement flickered. For the first time, she wanted to see just how far this boy could go.
Months passed like fleeting shadows. Day after day, Yamato trained under the sharp eye of the shaman and the harsh tests of Hyori.
What once felt like punishment became second nature to him. Martial arts sessions with the shaman no longer broke his bones; instead, they pushed the shaman himself to his limits. Hyori's speed training, once humiliating, was now a fierce rivalry that left even her breathless.
Thanks to the Blue Eyes, Yamato adapted to everything, absorbing knowledge and mastering techniques with terrifying ease.
One morning, before dawn, the shaman appeared at Yamato's door.
His expression was unreadable, his staff in hand. "Boy," he said, "today marks the end of your training with me."
Yamato blinked, surprised, but followed without hesitation. Together, they walked eastward, into the mist of a forest that seemed to breathe with its own eerie life.
Tall, ancient trees loomed like silent sentinels. The air was thick, heavy, carrying the faint cries of unseen beasts.
Yamato stopped, his hand resting on the strap of his sword. "Hey, old geezer… what's with this creepy place?"
The shaman's eyes hardened. "This is the Hunted Forest. Your final trial. Here, creatures roam far deadlier than any wild beast you've known. Here… lies either your salvation, your breakthrough... or your death."
Before Yamato could speak, the shaman pulled out a strip of cloth.
"Bend."
Yamato frowned. "Huh?"
"Bend, boy."
Grumbling, Yamato bent slightly, and the shaman tied the cloth around his eyes, blinding him completely.
Then, he placed a heavy backpack on his shoulders. "Umm, sir… I can't see a thing," Yamato muttered nervously.
The shaman's voice dropped to a grave tone. "Good. Then your instincts must see for you."
Before Yamato could protest further, a sudden push sent him stumbling forward.
"Wha—!?"
He tumbled, rolling down into the thick, echoing darkness of the forest. His voice rang out desperately: "Old geezer! What kind of joke is this?!"
But the shaman only stood at the forest's edge, watching until Yamato's voice faded into the wilderness.
His expression was calm, but his eyes… heavy. "See you in years… or maybe not ever," he whispered before turning his back to the forest.
That night, while peeling potatoes by the dim light of a lantern, Hyori finally spoke. "Father… is he going to be okay?"
The shaman raised a brow, glancing at her. "Since when did you start caring about others?"
Hyori's cheeks flushed crimson. She quickly looked away, her tone sharp. "I don't care. Hmph. It's just… he's not the first to be thrown into that forest. So many trainees never came back. It won't make any difference if he dies too. So don't misunderstand... I couldn't care less about him."
The shaman chuckled softly, setting down his knife. "Heh… say what you will, girl. But his fate is now beyond us. Destiny alone will decide."
Outside, the forest howled. And within it, Yamato vanished into the shadows of his greatest trial yet.