Chapter 525: Forgiveness

Swish!

Before the middle-aged swordsman’s pupils could fully contract, that beam of cold light had already swept across his throat from the left, dissipating in the air to the right of his neck.

A sharp pain surged into his mind.

"Hiss!"

He retreated with all his might, the strength born from the verge of life and death almost tearing the muscles in his calves. Borrowing this strength, he retreated several zhang and raised his hand to cover his throat, trying to plug the gushing blood.

At the same time, he roared.

"Kurama!"

That’s right, the move Lord Uda had just used—the other swordsmen present couldn't understand it, but he, who came from Hachimangu Shrine, couldn't possibly fail to recognize it.

Kurama style—Ultimate Iai!

"Shouldn't you have died long ago!"

He said in shock and anger.

Thirty years ago, he had watched with his own eyes as the last Kurama-style swordsman died inside Hachimangu Shrine. At that time, he had just started practicing swordsmanship, and he saw that incomparably powerful Kurama-style swordsman cut in half, resulting in him vomiting all over the ground.

From that time on, he confirmed the strength of Hachimangu Shrine and also confirmed the fact that the "Intent Sword Art" was weaker than the "Venerated Deity Sword Art."

But how could this be!

Of the four oldest Intent Sword Arts, the successors of the Itto-ryu were hiding, the Nen-ryu had converted to Enryaku-ji, and the Kurama style had perished before his eyes at Hachimangu Shrine!

How could there still be a Kurama-style swordsman!

He roared, then suddenly froze.

No, if his throat had already been cut, he shouldn't have been able to shout... He rubbed his throat hard, but didn't feel any blood or wounds.

He realized and looked at the flesh-and-blood skeleton.

The crippled right hand was on the sword hilt, having moved only a fraction compared to before. That katana hadn't been drawn at all.

"So that’s it!"

"It was my momentary panic... You have been injured to this extent, it is impossible for you to operate your breathing technique! You risked your life, but you could only put on a show!"

Deep down, there was a lingering fear.

The cold light he had seen just now was only an illusion condensed from a trace of mental energy forced out by Lord Uda before his death. But even that was enough to make him instinctively feel sharp pain.

What if the opponent hadn't been injured?

What if the opponent had been willing to use the Kurama-style moves from the beginning?

He would definitely have lost, would definitely have died!

What made him injured to this extent and unwilling to strike, and what made him suddenly willing to strike?

All changes stemmed from that phrase "it’s enough."

The middle-aged swordsman looked up and asked in an incomparably heavy tone.

"Who are you?"

The interjecting swordsman was stunned for a moment, and after noticing that the middle-aged swordsman’s gaze was directed at himself, he pointed at himself extremely slowly and incredulously.

"...Me?"

A large hand grabbed his head and threw him aside.

"Get lost."

The tall old man pressed his right hand on the sword hilt and stepped forward.

"A coward is a coward! This move in the last moment of life is still so useless!"

"Twenty years! Wasted martial arts, forgot hatred, willing to drink alcohol day after day at the foot of Kamakura and Hachimangu Shrine, even pawned the sword!"

"If I hadn't come, were you planning to die of old age here!"

While speaking, he walked to the side of Lord Uda, who was covered in blood and hadn't moved for a long time, and glared at him.

"Hiss—"

Lord Uda squeezed a faint sound from his throat, raised his only remaining right eye, and looked to his side.

In the gaze that hadn't wavered even when his facial features were cut off, there was now full of guilt and pleading, and tears mixed with blood gushed out, drawing two turbid lines on his white cheekbones.

"Hmph!"

The old man snorted coldly and turned his gaze away.

"Of all the disciples I have collected in my life, you are the most useless one! I should have killed you directly back then, to save me from dirtying my eyes!"

The tone was merciless.

"You can die now!"

But Lord Uda’s eyes lit up.

The old man scolded him, his tone so stiff it approached an insult, but he squeezed a sound like laughter from his throat, and blood tears flowed from his eyes.

Disciple.

Can die.

Great.

He had finally won forgiveness.

This "ascending the steps" was never meant to ascend Hachimangu Shrine, but a punishment for his twenty years of avoiding revenge, wasting swordsmanship, and forgetting hatred.

Until before death, he was finally allowed to use the Kurama-style swordsmanship, finally recognized by the old man as a disciple of the Kurama style again... he had finally received forgiveness.

So he could die.

He should have died long ago.

Thud.