Chapter 529

Then, he moved.

The motion of raising his sword was not fast, yet it was exceptionally steady, rising along the central axis of his body; the angle between his arm and his torso was nearly identical to the demonstration Horie Kenichi had just performed.

A flash of surprise crossed Arai Kotaro's eyes, and just as he prepared to speak up to point out a subtle detail, the sound of Natsume Chikage's exhalation already rang out:

"Hah—!!"

The bamboo sword swung down in its wake.

The trajectory was straight, lacking the common wobbling or deviation in arc seen in beginners; it was the most standard path for a frontal strike.

What was even more striking was that at the instant the sword swung down, his waist and back were naturally straight, his feet gripping the ground, and that "Zanshin" posture—where the power of the "strike" remains gathered rather than dispersed, and the consciousness remains in a state of continued vigilance—was also vaguely manifested.

Although the force, speed, and momentum were far from the sharpness of Horie Kenichi's seasoned skill, this first attempt was already shockingly close to the standard in both form and spirit!

The words of correction Arai Kotaro had prepared stuck in his throat, turning into an instinctive whisper.

"... The trajectory is very straight. Breathe deeper, initiate the power from the soles of your feet, and channel it to your fingertips."

He steadied himself, resuming his stern tone as an instructor.

"Continue swinging. You are not to stop until I say so! Fix that feeling you just had!"

"Understood."

Natsume Chikage took a slight breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

In his mind, Horie Kenichi's fierce movements and Arai Kotaro's clear explanations unfolded like a precise blueprint.

How the various parts of the body should coordinate, how the power should flow, how the breathing should synchronize... these various points were not being memorized by rote, but were being understood and absorbed as if by instinct.

Merely from this first swing, combined with Arai Kotaro's brief pointers, he had already completed a high-speed self-calibration in his mind.

The force in his fingers gripping the sword, the angle of his wrists, and even the imperceptible deviations in his overall posture were all rapidly corrected through this near-intuitive feedback.

During the second suburi, his shout became noticeably deeper and more powerful, as if it were truly surging from his dantian.

The rhythm of the swing was no longer awkward; there was a smooth connection between the rise and fall, and that budding sense of "doing it all in one breath" began to manifest in his movements.

The sound of the bamboo sword cutting through the air also became clearer.

By the third time, the fluidity of the movement improved once again.

Raising the sword, swinging down, and Zanshin—the three stages transitioned more naturally, no longer as separate actions, but as a complete cycle.

That pause of "Zanshin," while not as filled with the oppressive pressure of actual combat as Horie Kenichi's, had already shed its initial blurriness, becoming stable and definite.

At this moment.

Kojima Yoshinobu and Arai Kotaro, who had been staring intently at every detail of Natsume Chikage's movements, both simultaneously displayed an increasingly intense look of shock and suspicion.

The speed of this progress was suspiciously fast.

It was not a curve that an ordinary person could achieve through repeated practice and slow correction.

The fourth time, the fifth time... every time Natsume Chikage swung the sword, he seemed to improve by a fraction more than the last; errors were vanishing at high speed, and the correct feeling was accumulating frantically.

By the tenth suburi, the completion of his movement was so high it was breathtaking.

From the highest point of raising the sword to the lowest point of the swing, the trajectory was as straight as if drawn with a ruler.

The twist of his body and the coordination of his power were incredibly harmonious, and the synchronization of his breathing and movement was seamless.

More importantly, his posture while swinging the sword already carried an indescribable "sense of correctness"—it was a kind of roundness that only reveals itself after the body has thoroughly memorized the optimal path through thousands of repetitions.

Almost... not a single technical flaw could be picked out.

This was already enough to be shocking.

But the scene that followed shook the hearts of the three watching swordsmen even more.

They saw that Natsume Chikage did not stop; he continued the suburi, but his gaze gradually went vacant, no longer focusing on any one point before him.

His body seemed to have developed a strange harmony with the flowing air around him, the dim light in the dojo, and even the weight and length of the bamboo sword in his hand.

He was still swinging the sword, the movement appearing ordinary, and the speed not particularly rapid.

But in the eyes of high-ranking swordsmen like Kojima Yoshinobu and Arai Kotaro, the swinging bamboo sword seemed to carry a contradictory illusion—it appeared slow, yet was actually fast; the trajectory was clear and stable, yet the power contained within was dense and undispersed.

Every swing carried a concise and efficient "aesthetic," as if everything superfluous had been stripped away, leaving only the act of "slashing" itself.

Kojima Yoshinobu had quietly walked closer at some point, his stiff, serious face now filled with unbelievable astonishment.

This was by no means simple imitation; it even transcended the category of "having good talent."

Without years of muscle memory, someone holding a sword for the first time could never master such complex power generation requiring high coordination of the entire body's nerves so quickly, nor could they touch upon that subtle "Zanshin" truth concerning "sword principles" in such a short time.

His previously firm thoughts were thoroughly shaken.

If... if this youth had truly never been in contact with kendo before...

Then what he was displaying right now was a supreme talent for ultimate body control that was almost instinctive!

A capability for extraordinary comprehension, replication, and even optimization of the "sword" movement!

Kojima Yoshinobu felt his long-dormant desire to cherish talent as an instructor jump violently at this moment.

A rare, burning desire surged uncontrollably in his heart—to take this peerless piece of unpolished jade under his wing and carve it with all his heart and soul!

But he suddenly took a deep breath, using his powerful reason to forcibly suppress this impulse.

After all, this was someone brought by the Yutang family, and his status was ridiculously high.

But... if A-kun were willing, it would be no problem.

He intended to make A-kun fall in love with kendo over these two weeks and let him see the gap in strength between them, thereby taking the initiative to ask to become his apprentice.

However, even with this talent.

It still needed time to be polished, and needed to be watered with sweat and scars.

Two weeks, for the Gyokuryuki Tournament which required a massive amount of actual combat tempering and reading the opponent's psychology, was ultimately a drop in the bucket.

Lacking the baptism of real combat, having only a perfect frame, he might still be vulnerable before those wolf-like opponents who had been tempered through countless duels.

But it had to be said, with this talent, A-kun indeed had a chance to surpass the first dan and reach the second dan level in two weeks.

He said in a deep voice:

"A-kun, you have talent, but remember not to be impatient; you must maintain your current mindset."

Beside him, the surprise in Arai Kotaro's eyes had long since turned into undisguised, near-shocked appreciation.

He had seen too many beginners struggle through clumsy and long periods of difficulty.

Yet someone like Natsume Chikage, who was almost just given a hint and watched one demonstration, could self-correct at a visible speed and rapidly approach the perfect form, was simply unheard of!

He had barely said much, nor had he given any special guidance.

It was merely a few of the most basic essentials and one standard demonstration.

Natsume Chikage could act like an extremely dry sponge, instantly absorbing all the moisture and displaying a "harmony" that surpassed the demonstration.

This talent was simply absurd!

One had to know, the other party was a complete zero-foundation newcomer!

At this moment, his gaze toward Natsume Chikage was already like looking at a rare treasure that naturally emitted a warm glow without needing to be carved, filled with the surprise of discovering a treasure.

He also agreed with his master's statement:

"A-kun, you indeed have talent; as long as you listen to us over these two weeks, your strength will definitely be able to improve to an unimaginable level!"

"As for the Gyokuryuki championship, although it is still difficult, at least getting you into the top sixteen is definitely no problem."

And Horie Kenichi took in the unfeigned shock and appreciation of his master and senior brother, but the stifled feeling, displeasure, and sourness in his heart burned ever brighter like a wildfire.

In his stubborn perspective, A-kun's movements were nothing more than "form-like" imitation that lacked substance.

The power generation was not fierce enough, the speed was not rapid enough, and the momentum was far from sufficient; it was just the most basic, soulless imitation show.

The reason his master and senior brother acted so surprised was mostly due to the Yutang family's terrifying power and that generous, impossible-to-refuse reward, which was why they praised him so deliberately and exaggeratedly; it was simply biased beyond measure!

He firmly believed that the other party's meager talent could not compare to himself, who was also hailed as a genius back then but had practiced hard, sword by sword, in reality.

He had shed countless drops of sweat and taken countless hits from bamboo swords to get to where he was today.

Unlike this person, who was just relying on his family background to easily obtain so much attention and tolerance.

He roared in his heart: This is unfair!

Natsume Chikage was still continuing.

One hundred consecutive suburi.

Fine beads of sweat finally appeared on his forehead and the tip of his nose, and his breathing became deep, but the form of his movements never wavered, stable to the point of being startling.

Every swing still maintained that efficient and harmonious "sense of correctness."

Kojima Yoshinobu and Arai Kotaro, these two kendo powerhouses of the seventh and sixth dan, watched silently until now, the appreciation in their eyes already so thick it could not be dissolved, even carrying a hint of amazement.

And Horie Kenichi, witnessing all this, felt the anger and jealousy in his heart almost burn through his chest.

Because throughout this entire process, his senior brother and master had not once spoken a word of reprimand, and even less had they raised that bamboo sword used for "correction"!

He clearly remembered that when he was practicing back then, even if he felt he had done it correctly, he would still be frequently scolded and even beaten for various subtle "deficiencies."

Even though he was already recognized as the fastest-progressing genius among his peers, that "strictness" had never diminished.