"Relax your upper body, keep your lower body steady, and breathe," Urokodaki Sakonji said calmly, standing beside Riku.
"Huuu—pfft!"
Riku had barely inhaled halfway when Urokodaki's palm struck his abdomen. The heavy blow cut his breath short, leaving him gasping.
"If your breathing can be disrupted this easily, you wouldn't last a second against a demon, even with ten lives," Urokodaki said, shaking his head. Even with a demon's enhanced physique, mastering the knack of Breathing Techniques required rigorous training. It wasn't easy—it went against every human instinct, like defying the heavens themselves.
"Again," Riku said, undeterred. He wasn't some genius; his learning ability was decent but nothing extraordinary. The Breathing Techniques Urokodaki described sounded so abstract he hadn't even grasped the basics yet. For now, he was just "dry-breathing," mimicking the motions without understanding.
Maybe I should've pumped some points into intelligence, Riku thought. Higher smarts might help me wrap my head around all this cryptic, abstract nonsense. Based on his years of gaming experience, stats like intelligence or perception were usually tied to mystical stuff. Heck, even charisma might have some connection to the supernatural.
Too bad his intelligence and perception were still at average human levels, and his charisma had taken a hit after becoming a demon.
"Feel it. Feel it with your heart. Let your breath flow like water, coursing through your limbs and every cell in your body," Urokodaki said, continuing to disrupt Riku's breathing rhythm with slaps while spouting more cryptic phrases.
"Let your breath become like a gentle stream, ceaseless and unbroken, unshaken by storms or frost," he went on, smacking Riku's abdomen repeatedly, making him wheeze. It was tough to endure, but Riku was starting to get used to it. The real problem? He couldn't make heads or tails of these instructions. A stream? How the heck do I breathe like water?!
In his mind, Riku was screaming. Isn't this just plain old inhaling and exhaling?! Where's the water flow? How do I breathe with a water effect?! The metaphors were too abstract, impossible to grasp beyond their literal meaning.
"Looks like you need to feel actual water to get it," Urokodaki said, noticing Riku's struggle. He wasn't surprised—few could grasp the essence right away. Teaching someone to feel the "Water Breathing" and stabilize their breath was something he had a tried-and-true method for.
"Follow me," Urokodaki said, leading Riku into the depths of Sagiri Mountain.
They trekked until they reached a waterfall. Sagiri Mountain was steep and rugged, and this waterfall was no gentle trickle—its roaring "RUMBLE" was like a mountain deity's bellow, awe-inspiring.
Japan's terrain, high in the center and low at the edges, gave rise to short, swift rivers and countless waterfalls. But this one? It wasn't your average backyard cascade.
Here it comes! The classic waterfall training! Riku thought, chuckling to himself. What is this, a timeless trope? Was a waterfall some kind of magical training ground with a built-in power-up buff? It seemed like every skill worth learning involved a waterfall scene.
"Go. Feel the water. Become one with it," Urokodaki instructed, pointing Riku to stand under the waterfall for its "baptism."
Riku wanted to ask, You call THIS a "water flow"? But on second thought, it wasn't wrong—the waterfall was just a super-sized, extra-strength version of a "flow." Still, would this really work? Doubt crept into his mind.
It's like weighted training, right? Just with a bunch of unpredictable factors, he reasoned. Though skeptical, Riku waded into the water to give it a shot. Good thing his demon body was waterproof—otherwise, Water Breathing would've been off the table.
RUMBLE!!!
The torrential water crashed down with overwhelming force, a testament to nature's raw power. Even with Riku's superhuman physique, it took him a while to plant himself firmly under the cascade. This wasn't a shower—the relentless water slammed into him, delivering a punishing impact. The slick, water-worn rocks beneath made footing treacherous for anyone without experience.
"Hold reverence in your heart, and through purification, clear your mind to cast out impurities," Urokodaki called from a cliff above, his voice barely cutting through the RUMBLE of the water, sounding faint and ethereal.
"Takigyo—waterfall meditation—purifies and washes away sins, letting you shed distractions and unite body and soul," Urokodaki's voice drifted down, almost otherworldly, like a divine chant.
Riku stood motionless under the waterfall, adjusting his breathing. "Takigyo fosters a connection with nature, linking you to the myriad forms of the world, achieving harmony with the universe," Urokodaki continued.
The RUMBLE drowned out everything else in Riku's world, leaving no room for stray thoughts. Urokodaki watched from the cliff. Takigyo was a practice of mountain ascetics to commune with spirits and banish distractions, perfectly suited for Water Breathing. Believers held that with a sincere heart, the trees, streams, and peaks would lend their aid.
Whether Riku was getting help from some mystical force, he didn't know—the waterfall's roar was too loud to hear Urokodaki's words clearly. Even if he had, he'd probably scoff. Riku was a "test-result theist," only believing in spirits when exam scores came in. Otherwise, gods were just unexplained natural phenomena or life forms beyond human understanding.
But under the waterfall, Riku was undeniably focused, blocking out all distractions. Following Urokodaki's guidance, he breathed in and out, trying to feel his breath seep into every cell. The air beneath the waterfall was oxygen-rich, each breath refreshing, not toxic but invigorating, as if merging with nature itself.
"Take your time to feel it," Urokodaki said, turning to leave. He could tell Riku was starting to get the hang of it. The kid didn't need babysitting—even if a boulder fell from the waterfall and cracked his skull, he'd be fine. Urokodaki's presence wasn't for theatrics or cryptic posturing—it was a safety precaution.
(End of Chapter)