Night had fallen, and the stars shone brightly overhead.
In the small training ground in his courtyard, Yakumo gripped the short sword he had purchased that evening and began imitating Kakashi Hatake’s movements as best he could.
Kakashi’s twenty-four sword techniques could roughly be divided into six categories: thrusting, slashing, lifting cuts, slicing, downward strikes, and horizontal cuts.
Each category had its own variations, suited to different situations.
The few techniques Yakumo was practicing belonged to the slashing and lifting-cut categories.
Compared with Kakashi’s fluid, natural movements, Yakumo’s attempts looked awkward and disjointed, as though the individual movements simply didn’t belong together.
Kakashi’s swordsmanship emphasized speed.
That was why he used a lightweight short blade, sacrificing defensive capability and the oppressive force of heavy strikes in exchange for more direct killing power.
It prioritized finesse over strength, and intent over rigid forms.
Yet even though Yakumo understood the principles, he still couldn’t reproduce Kakashi’s swordsmanship.
The subtle techniques hidden within those movements were impossible to learn through observation alone without proper instruction.
“This won’t do.
I can’t rush things…
I still have six days.”
The following day at noon, Yakumo borrowed three books from the library: An Introduction to Basic Swordsmanship, How to Use a Sword, and A Brief Discussion of Swordsmanship Techniques.
He decided to temporarily put aside his study of basic medical knowledge and devote all his attention to swordsmanship.
That afternoon, he once again pretended to read while secretly observing Kakashi’s sword practice.
After a second day of watching, he gained several new insights.
One noteworthy development was that Hiraya Gensho had taken the morning off for some unknown reason.
When he returned in the afternoon, he never mentioned the previous day’s homework again, as though he had forgotten the entire incident.
That night, Yakumo practiced the most fundamental sword movements in his training ground: basic downward slashes, rising cuts, straight thrusts, horizontal blocks, advancing slashes, retreating horizontal blocks, forward thrusts, and sidestepping downward strikes.
After studying An Introduction to Basic Swordsmanship, Yakumo realized that learning anything was much like constructing a building.
Only by laying a solid foundation could one continue building upward.
Suppose Kakashi’s demonstrated swordsmanship occupied the third floor of a building, while Yakumo was still a complete novice.
No matter how carefully he tried to imitate Kakashi, his movements would remain awkward and inaccurate because he lacked the fundamentals needed to support that imitation.
Inside the courtyard training ground, Yakumo wore a thin shirt as shadows of the blade flickered around him.
He repeated the eight basic techniques over and over.
Gradually, sweat covered his body, rising from his head in wisps of white vapor.
“Huff…”
His breathing grew increasingly labored.
Yakumo’s arms were becoming heavier, but he gritted his teeth and continued.
According to the books, a swordsman needed to maintain a steady breathing rhythm while swinging a blade.
Their breathing must not become erratic; instead, it should synchronize with the weapon’s movements.
Although this would not directly strengthen the body, it could at least prevent one’s breathing from becoming disrupted during training.
Of course, understanding the principle was easy.
Putting it into practice was another matter entirely.
As time passed, Yakumo’s arms, waist, and even legs grew unbearably heavy, as though countless sacks of lead had been strapped to his body.
Maintaining steady breathing became increasingly difficult.
Finally, his breathing fell into disarray.
After completing a properly executed downward strike, Yakumo sheathed his sword, placed it between his legs, and sat cross-legged to recover his strength and regulate his breathing.
He sat quietly in meditation, focusing on the shape, weight, and sharpness of the sword resting across his legs.
The book explained that a weapon was an extension of its wielder’s body.
One should not regard a sword as something external, but rather as a part of oneself.
More than ten minutes later, Yakumo picked up a glass of water and gulped down a large mouthful of cold water.
Then he stood up and resumed his sword practice.
When it came to completing missions, he was serious.
In his previous life, he had been the undisputed emperor of grinding, a man who had pushed the art of endless grinding to its limits.
He had set countless records and achieved feats that seemed impossible.
That was also why he had developed an almost irrational obsession with completing tasks—a fixation that had ultimately contributed to his premature death.
Once…
twice…
three times.
He continued until his breathing became disordered again and he collapsed onto the ground.
After resting, he forced himself back to his feet.
The young trainee’s gaze was resolute, with an almost frightening hint of obsessive determination.
The next morning, Yakumo dragged his aching body through his usual run, enduring a mixture of pain and satisfaction.
Only when he submitted the mission and the familiar, soothing energy washed through him did most of the soreness disappear.
Wednesday night arrived.
Yakumo continued practicing the eight basic sword techniques as usual.
After two days and eight hours of training, his movements had shed their initial awkwardness and become smooth and familiar.
A gentle breeze stirred the surrounding weeds and cooled the sweat on Yakumo’s body.
Unnoticed by anyone, the boy continued accumulating strength in the empty training ground, growing stronger one repetition at a time.
June 10, Thursday night.
The training ground.
This time, Yakumo didn’t immediately begin practicing.
Instead, he opened the skill interface he hadn’t checked for some time.
[Personal Skills]
Active Skill: Water Bullet — Beginner Level, 50/100 — Acceleration
Active Skill: Basic Swordsmanship — Beginner Level, 60/100 — Acceleration
Gold Coins: 400
With a thought, he selected Acceleration beside Basic Swordsmanship.
Four consecutive activations consumed all 400 gold coins in an instant.
Acceleration successful.
Create happiness with dedication.
We wish you an enjoyable gaming experience.
A torrent of memories flooded into Yakumo’s mind: countless hours of sword practice, repeated movements, and the accumulated experience of mastering the techniques.
Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of memories, Yakumo stood frozen in place.
When he finally recovered and touched the sword at his side, an extraordinary sense of familiarity washed over him.
He knew its weight, its balance, and how it should move through his hands.
On the skill interface, the proficiency bar for Basic Swordsmanship rose rapidly until it reached 100.
The words Beginner Level gradually faded and were replaced by a new rank.
Active Skill: Basic Swordsmanship — Proficient, 0/200 — Acceleration
At that moment, Yakumo felt as though he had broken through an invisible barrier and entered an entirely higher realm.
He opened his eyes and clenched his fist.
Somehow, his body felt stronger, and his vitality seemed to have increased.
Curious about the change, Yakumo opened his personal status panel.
[Personal Status]
Name: Iori Yakumo Age: 7
Constitution: 4.8 (stamina, resistance, recovery)Strength: 3.5 (lifting capacity, attack power, etc.)Agility: 4.0 (reflexes, running speed)Intelligence: 4.3 (learning ability, mental resistance)Chakra: 6.2 (10 points required to advance to Genin)
Yakumo stared at the figures in surprise.
Breaking through to Proficient in Basic Swordsmanship had increased both his Constitution and Strength by 0.4 points.
That was equivalent to the rewards from two and a half days of daily missions—a thoroughly unexpected bonus.
The improvement was probably a direct attribute bonus granted upon reaching a new proficiency rank.
After all, when he had previously used gold coins to accelerate Basic Swordsmanship, he hadn’t received any attribute points.
After gulping down several mouthfuls of cold water, Yakumo stood up and began swinging his sword again.
This time, his movements were no longer awkward.
The blade flashed through the air with an almost beautiful fluidity, accompanied by a chilling edge that sent a shiver down the spine.
A withered yellow leaf drifted toward him on the breeze.
Yakumo’s gaze sharpened.
Gripping the sword with both hands, he brought it down in a fierce slash.
The blade flashed.
The leaf split into four pieces in midair.
Yakumo exhaled slowly and shook his head.
He wasn’t satisfied with the result.
On Wednesday afternoon, he had personally witnessed Kakashi Hatake slice a flying leaf cleanly in half.
The cut had been perfectly straight and smooth, while the rest of the leaf remained completely intact.
That was what a perfect cut looked like: wielding tremendous force with effortless control, concentrating overwhelming violence into a single, precise line.
Only a strike of that caliber could cut through armor and seriously injure—or kill—the shinobi wearing it.
He still had a long way to go.
For now, his biggest headache was figuring out how to learn Kakashi’s swordsmanship directly and reach the beginner level within the remaining three days.
Was approaching Kakashi and starting a conversation really his only option?
Give up?
That was never going to happen.