Kaigaku stood like a forgotten statue at the edge of the clearing. The battle before him was beyond his comprehension.
BOOM! CLANG! SMASH!
His eyes couldn't even track them. There were only two tangled, tearing, colliding streaks of golden lightning. Every clash produced a roar of thunder. The shockwaves whipped through his hair and clothes like a hurricane.
"This... this is true Thunder Breathing...?"
Kaigaku's pupils shrank to pinpricks. The Jigoro Kuwajima who patiently corrected his form was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a monster of pure speed. And Tatsuya... Tatsuya was actually holding his own!
A bone-chilling cold raced up Kaigaku's spine. He finally understood the "Great Divide" between a former Hashira and a trainee. It wasn't a gap; it was an abyss.
In the center of the storm, Tatsuya roared: "Old man, take this! First Form: Thunderclap and Flash—Godspeed!"
Tatsuya vanished, leaving a straight golden line that warped the air. The wooden blade shrieked as it aimed for Kuwajima's chest.
Kuwajima's eyes flashed. He tapped his prosthetic leg on the ground—Clack!—and slid a half-step to the side as if weightless. As the strike grazed him, he swung his wooden sword upward in a jagged arc of condensed thunder.
"Hmph! Too young! Second Form: Rice Spirit—Thousand Fold Waves!"
The single arc split into a dozen! A dense rain of golden strikes surged forward to swallow Tatsuya whole.
"I've never seen you use that one, Old Man!" Tatsuya's core muscles snapped as he twisted mid-air, using the explosive sparks at his feet to propel himself sideways. The lethal arcs hissed past him.
"Fourth Form: Distant Thunder—Insects Awaken!" Tatsuya's sword transitioned from a thrust to a wide sweep, becoming a golden whip of lightning that tore through the ground toward Kuwajima's legs!
"Oh? An adaptation?" Kuwajima didn't panic. He used his cane for leverage, leaping lightly into the air. He spun his body, using the momentum to bring his blade down like a falling pillar of thunder.
"Fifth Form: Heat Lightning!"
Tatsuya's hair stood on end. He performed a dizzying series of rapid steps, blurring backward just as the strike pulverized the earth where he had stood. Dust and air exploded.
Kuwajima didn't stop. He burst through the explosion like a demon. "Don't be fooled by smoke, boy! Fourth Form: Distant Thunder!"
Kuwajima's thrust was blocked, but he immediately followed through with a brutal shoulder-tackle aimed at Tatsuya's open chest. Tatsuya met it with a soft palm strike to deflect the force, but his blood still surged from the impact. He countered immediately, his right leg hooking toward Kuwajima's prosthetic ankle—a "dirty" move aimed at the old man's support.
"Devious! That's how it should be!" Kuwajima praised, his prosthetic leg snapping out to intercept Tatsuya's knee.
"You're one to talk about 'devious,' Master!"
The two leaped back simultaneously, creating ten meters of distance. As they landed, their figures erupted with even more violent gold-red lightning. Like two colliding comets, they charged again.
"First Form: Thunderclap and Flash—Six Fold!" Tatsuya roared. Six gold-red streaks of light, denser and swifter than ever before, instantly sealed off all of Kuwajima's escape routes.
"Second Form: Rice Spirit—Eight Fold!" Kuwajima didn't budge an inch, meeting Tatsuya's six-fold assault with eight overlapping arcs of lightning.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG—!!!
The air was shredded as a symphony of clashing steel tore at the eardrums. Violent sparks of golden electricity danced and exploded between them, creating a brilliance so blinding that Kaigaku had to shield his eyes.
CRACK—!!! CRACK—!!!
Two sharp snaps echoed simultaneously. The wooden swords, infused with the full power of two Thunder Breathing masters, finally succumbed to the extreme force. They shattered from the tips down, the tough wood fibers disintegrating into a cloud of sawdust under the pressure of the lightning.
After delivering the final strike, Jigoro Kuwajima stiffened imperceptibly and instinctively reached for his lower back.
"Tch. One must eventually accept old age," Kuwajima muttered, straightening his back and breathing heavily. He looked down at the broken hilt in his hand, then at Tatsuya, whose chest was heaving with excitement. His expression remained stoic, but deep in his eyes was a surge of pride—the satisfaction of seeing a raw gem finally radiate its true brilliance.
"Hmph. Brat," Kuwajima tossed the broken hilt aside. "The forms of Thunder Breathing are etched into your very marrow now; they've become your instinct. Your 'Constant' state is stable... good." His tone turned solemn, carrying the pride of the Momoyama lineage. "The road ahead has no shortcuts. It is the dull work of water dripping through stone. Put away that flighty, hyperactive nature of yours! Use your heart and soul to grasp the deeper truths of the Breath. And remember who you are now!"
His gaze turned as sharp as a blade. "You are Shinjuro Rengoku's Tsuguko. You represent the face of the Rengoku family!" He paused, his voice dropping an octave. "But if you dare embarrass me, Jigoro Kuwajima, in front of that Flame Hashira... Hmph!"
Tatsuya immediately dropped his broken sword and scurried over with a grin. "Hehe... I know, I know! You'll hang me under the waterfall and turn me into a sieve! I get it!" He naturally slipped behind Kuwajima, massaging the old man's stiff shoulders with just the right amount of pressure while pounding on his lower back.
"I'm still far off, Master! If the wooden sword hadn't broken, you'd have flattened me!"
Kuwajima leaned back, enjoying the service. "At least you know your place!"
"Don't worry, Master. Restoring the glory of Thunder Breathing is my duty!"
Once Tatsuya had sufficiently pacified his master and watched him head off to tend to the peach trees, he turned back to the clearing. His gaze fell on Kaigaku, who remained frozen at the edge, his thoughts unreadable.
"Next up, let's spar, Kaigaku. We haven't fought since you officially began your training."
Tatsuya tossed a wooden sword to him. Kaigaku caught it, but the weight of the wood couldn't suppress the complex emotions churning in his chest. He remembered the last time he was humiliated by Tatsuya after the incident with the villagers. He took a deep breath, trying to force down the awe of the battle he just witnessed and the burning shame in his gut.
The worst that can happen is another beating.
Kaigaku took his stance, instinctively choosing the most stable posture he knew—the start of the Second Form, Rice Spirit. He lowered his center of gravity, eyes locked on Tatsuya. "Please guide me, Senior." His voice was forced, but his tight jaw betrayed his nerves.
But Tatsuya didn't move. He held his wooden sword loosely at his side, his gaze calm yet certain. "Not that one," Tatsuya said.
"Huh?" Kaigaku blinked, confused.
Tatsuya lifted his hand, pointing the tip of his sword straight at Kaigaku's chest. He spoke the one word that always grated on Kaigaku's ears: "Thunderclap and Flash." Ignoring Kaigaku's darkening expression, Tatsuya commanded: "Kaigaku, attack me with Thunderclap and Flash."