Two years passed.
The seasons turned, rains fell and dried, and yet there was no sign of Yamato.
At first, Hyori had checked the forest's edge daily.
Then weekly.
Then she stopped altogether. Even the shaman, despite his faith in destiny, had finally sighed and admitted to himself: Perhaps the boy is truly gone.
That morning, Hyori went out to fetch water from the well.
The sun was still rising, casting faint streaks of gold across the land. She balanced her bucket and hummed faintly to herself, when suddenly....
A figure emerged from the treeline.
Her heart lurched, and in an instant she dropped the bucket, pulling a dagger from her belt. Impossible. No one should even know this place exists!
The figure walked steadily, his steps confident, his presence overwhelming.
He moved toward the barrier that hid their home from the world, then walked straight through it as if it didn't exist.
Hyori's breath caught. No one can pass the barrier… unless…
The figure stepped closer, and as the morning light touched his face, she froze in shock. "Yamato…?" she whispered.
The boy she once knew was gone.
Before her stood someone taller, stronger, his shoulders broader, his presence heavier.
His long hair drifted with the breeze, his aura calm yet terrifying, as if the forest itself had reshaped him into something inhuman.
He smiled faintly, his voice deeper now. "Hey, Hyori. How's life been treating you? …Where's your old man?"
For a moment, Hyori couldn't move. Her eyes stayed locked on him, her cheeks burning as she tried to hide her fluster.
But then the weight of shock overcame her and she screamed:
"FATHER! COME OUT, QUICK!"
The shaman rushed outside, staff in hand. "What is it, girl... " His words died as his gaze fell on the figure standing before them. "…Yamato?" His voice trembled with disbelief.
The young man chuckled, his sharp eyes narrowing. "What's wrong, old geezer? Surprised? I thought you wanted me to die when you pushed me into that hell."
He took a step closer, his expression darkening for a moment. "That place wasn't training… it was survival. I bled, starved, fought creatures that nightmares wouldn't dare birth. You threw me into death."
Hyori gasped, her heart twisting at his words. But then Yamato's lips curved into a soft smile. "…And yet… I survived."
The shaman stood silent, eyes studying the boy..... no, the young man... who stood before him.
His aura was so calm it was unnerving, as if even the earth itself bent to his presence.
Finally, the old man let out a deep laugh, tears almost welling in his eyes.
"Welcome back, son."
Yamato grinned faintly, tilting his head. "It's good to be back. But tell me… how long has it been?"
"Two years and two months," the shaman replied quietly.
Yamato blinked in surprise. "…So I'm seventeen now. Hah, impressive."
The shaman's hand trembled on his staff as he thought to himself:
His aura… it's completely different.
Not wild. Not reckless. Just… calm. Too calm. He's grown beyond what I imagined. Just how strong have you become, Yamato?
The evening was filled with laughter, the aroma of roasted meat and freshly cooked vegetables filling the small house. For the first time in years, there was joy in the air. Hyori caught herself staring more than she wanted to admit.
Earlier, when Yamato had gone to change, she had peeked through the window... just once, she told herself. But that one glance had left her shaken.
His shirt had slipped off his shoulders, revealing his back.
Dozens of scars ran across his skin like claw marks of some ancient beast. But one scar stood out—the long, jagged mark that stretched from his back all the way to his chest.
Hyori's fingers trembled against the window frame.
"That scar… it's almost the same as father's. What kind of horrors did he face in that forest…?"
She turned away, clutching her chest, her heart refusing to calm.
Later, at the table, Yamato ate quietly.
The shaman and Hyori laughed between themselves, but Yamato remained silent, his expression heavy.
Finally, he set his chopsticks down and bowed his head deeply.
"Old man…" His voice was low, steady. "I want to thank you."
The shaman raised a brow, but said nothing.
Yamato's hands trembled slightly as he spoke. "Until I met you, I was nothing. A good-for-nothing. Even my parents saw no worth in me. But you… you raised me from scratch. You gave me shelter, food, training… kindness. Even love."
He bowed lower, his voice tightening. "I'll never forget what you've done for me. I'm truly grateful."
Hyori stopped eating, her eyes widening at the sincerity in his tone.
"But…" Yamato lifted his head slowly, his eyes burning with quiet resolve. "…I have one wish."
The shaman leaned back, closing his eyes slightly. "What is it?"
"I want to leave tomorrow," Yamato said firmly. "To start my journey."
Hyori's breath caught in her throat. "Leave…?" she whispered.
The shaman opened his eyes, staring straight into Yamato's soul. "And what path will you follow, boy?"
Yamato took a deep breath, his voice steady and clear. "The path of a bounty hunter. Not that of Koruzan."
The room fell silent. Hyori stared at him in shock, but the shaman only stroked his beard, studying the young man before him.
Finally, a grin tugged at his lips. "Hmph. So you've already chosen. You've grown, Yamato."
His hand tightened on his staff, his gaze sharpening. "But… I cannot let you go so easily."
Yamato raised his brows. "What do you mean?"
The shaman stood, his aura flaring like a storm.
His voice thundered with both pride and challenge:
"If you truly wish to walk your own path… then you must prove yourself. Tomorrow, before you depart, you will duel me. And only if you defeat me will I grant you my blessing."
Yamato froze for a moment, then his lips curved into a determined grin.
"…Fine by me."
Hyori looked between them, her chest tightening with unease. "A duel… with father? After two years in the forest, how strong has Yamato really become…?"
The flickering lantern light cast their shadows long across the wall, one of a boy grown into a man, and one of a master who had trained countless disciples.
Tomorrow, their destinies would clash.
The morning sun had barely broken the horizon when Yamato rose, his eyes calm yet burning with determination. At the same time, the old shaman stepped out, already waiting in the yard.
Hyori stood quietly at the edge, her heart pounding. She knew today would decide everything.
The shaman's deep voice broke the silence.
"Let's begin."
Yamato smirked lightly. "It's about time."
The old man took in a sharp breath and pressed his palm to the ground.
"Arise.. Jart!"
The earth shook violently, splitting open as a towering statue surged upward.
It gleamed in purple light, a monstrous being with a hundred arms stretching wide like the branches of an ancient god. Its presence radiated sheer destruction.
Hyori gasped. "B-but that.... "
"Silence!" her father barked, his voice sharper than steel.
Hyori's chest tightened. Dad… you're going all out. Does that mean you truly intend to kill him?
Meanwhile, Yamato stood as still as stone, unflinching before the giant's presence.
His hand stretched forward into a stance, his expression unreadable. "Don't get cocky, boy," the shaman growled. "This is Jat, my true power.
Its fists grow faster and stronger with the speed of my thoughts."
Seconds of eerie silence passed.
Then the shaman's lips curved. "Attack, Jart!"
The monster's hundred fists shot forward at blinding speed, tearing the ground apart in a storm of dust and destruction.
Hyori's heart stopped. This is too much… he's really going to kill him!
"Yamato! Dodge! Run away!" she screamed desperately.
But Yamato didn't move.
The fists collided with the earth in a devastating impact, but when the dust cleared, Yamato stood firm, his arms a blur as he deflected each strike with raw strength.
Hyori's eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible… he's matching all of that with his bare hands?!"
The shaman's expression hardened. His veins bulged as his voice thundered across the yard.
"Jart! Times one hundred.. no, a million accelerations!"
The giant's fists became invisible, their speed surpassing human perception. Even Hyori couldn't follow the attacks anymore.
The air itself screamed under the force, and Yamato's body was battered back, blood splattering the ground.
Hyori's hands trembled. "That's Father's strongest power… he'll die!"
Inside Yamato's fading consciousness, a question burned.
What am I fighting for? Memories flooded his mind, his days at school, the pain of rejection, the harsh survival in the forest, and the shaman's teachings.
His spirit roared.
I won't die here. The world rests on my shoulders!
Suddenly, his blue eyes ignited like flames, glowing brighter than ever before.
The shaman's heart skipped. "Those eyes…"
Yamato let out a fierce cry as his fists moved at an overwhelming speed, shattering every strike that came at him.
The blue eyes guided his movements flawlessly, adaptation, mastery, and raw will combined. With every punch, another of Jart's arms crumbled to dust.
Hyori stood frozen, her lips parted. He's destroying them… all of them… with just his strength.
In a final surge, Yamato's aura exploded. His fists blurred beyond sight, tearing through Jart's last defenses before smashing the colossal statue apart with one decisive blow. The ground trembled as fragments fell, leaving only silence in the aftermath.
Yamato raised his bloodstained fist to the sky. "I… did it!"
Hyori rushed forward, only to stop short. Before her eyes, Yamato's wounds sealed themselves completely, his body glowing faintly as the scars faded.
The shaman's lips curved into a proud smile. "So… you've already mastered divine healing, too. Another gift of the six eyes."
Hyori's heart shook. He beat Father… with just the blue eyes. How strong has he truly become?
Yamato walked past them calmly, his aura steady, as if the battle had been nothing more than a warmup. Changing into fresh clothes, he glanced at the old man.
The shaman chuckled, his tone filled with pride. "Go get them, boy. The world hasn't seen your true power yet."
The house felt warmer that night, laughter and the smell of food still lingering from the duel's aftermath.
But Yamato's mind remained restless.
He turned toward the old shaman, his voice calm yet curious.
"Ehh, old man," he began. "If I may ask… what was the name of the last Six Eyes before me?"
The shaman paused, his gaze distant, as though reaching into memories long buried. "His name… was Yamagi."
Yamato nodded slowly, filing the name away.
But his questions were far from over.
He leaned forward, his eyes sharper now. "The first time I fought with this power, it was triggered by the legend Yoochi's sword. After I awakened it, my dead classmates came back to life, and the injured were healed instantly."
His voice lowered, almost troubled. "Tell me, old man… is that normal?"
The shaman's expression grew tense. "Did you… experience anything like that in the forest?"
Yamato exhaled, recalling nights of blood and shadows. "Yes. I healed animals. I even noticed… I could bring the dead back. Not just living beings.. sometimes even objects. But the resurrection is… uncontrollable.
It only happens when I lose myself... when I'm unconscious, or when death strikes too close."
A heavy silence followed. The fire crackled in the corner.
Then the shaman spoke, his tone deeper, almost reverent.
"Back in the days of Yoochi… this was his true gift. The God of Learning—the Blue Eyes, is not just about wisdom or fast mastery. It is a divine healer. A power of resurrection itself."
He gave a bitter smile. "Strange, isn't it? But fate decided that only Yoochi… and now you… would awaken this part of its grace."
Yamato's brow furrowed. "Then that means…" "Yes," the shaman said, cutting in.
"Some part of history has been erased. Sakamoto is worshipped as a king, while Yoochi.. the one who bore the Six Eyes.. is remembered only as a violent tyrant. That, boy, is the lie the world believes. And it will not be easy for you to walk this path."
Yamato clenched his fists but his eyes stayed calm. "Hard or not, I've already chosen. I'll still go."
The shaman saw the resolve in him and did not argue further.
Instead, he reached behind and pulled out a leather pouch. "Then take this." He pressed it into Yamato's hands.
"A million dollars. I've been saving it for you. Use it well."
Yamato was silent for a moment, then bowed his head in gratitude.
Hyori, who had been quiet all evening, bit her lip, wrestling with the words in her heart.
Finally, as Yamato slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped toward the door, she ran to him.
"Wait!" she shouted, thrusting a long coat and a scarf into his arms.
"You'll cause trouble outside… so wear these. The coat will protect you, and the scarf... hide your face with it."
Yamato blinked, then smiled warmly. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
His hand reached into his bag.
"And… I have something for you too."
Hyori's eyes widened as Yamato stepped closer and gently placed a necklace around her neck.
"This belonged to my mother," he said softly. "Keep it safe… for me."
Her cheeks flushed, and she bent her head, hiding a smile. "You… idiot."
Yamato laughed quietly, waved at them both, and stepped out into the open world.
His figure grew smaller in the distance until the forest swallowed him whole.
The shaman stood silently at the doorway, eyes lingering on Yamato's fading silhouette. His voice was low, almost a whisper.
"The world is not ready for you, boy. But destiny waits all the same."