The next day, the martial arts tournament began as usual.
However, to everyone's surprise, a young boy stepped onto the stage early that morning.
He was dressed in a black brocade robe adorned with violet patterns, exuding an air of nobility. His long, jet-black hair was tied into a high ponytail, secured with an indigo cord. A slender shintō sword hung at his waist, and his movements were deliberate as he stood at the center of the stage.
His face was soft, almost beautiful, with phoenix-like eyes that radiated a cold, aloof dominance.
The crowd below grew larger, and among them were rough individuals who had seen bloodshed. At first, they showed impatience, but when they met the boy's gaze, they fell silent, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Only the samurai mixed in the crowd showed cautious expressions, instinctively lowering their stances and placing their hands on their sword hilts, ready for defense.
"What's going on? This kid's presence…"
Meanwhile, the nobles on the viewing platform grew restless. Some began to sneer.
Sitting high above and at a distance, they couldn't clearly see the boy's expression.
"Where did this brat come from? Is he looking for death?"
"Hmph, what's the Tanba family doing? How can they let a kid cause trouble at such an important event?"
"Someone, get him off the stage!"
"Heh, those fools below can't even handle a kid…"
Soon, a man clad in samurai armor stepped onto the stage and barked at Kamihane's back:
"Kid, get out of here! This isn't a place for you to play!"
Kamihane tilted his head slightly. "Are you here to challenge me?"
"Challenge?" The man scoffed. "You brat, don't tell me you actually want to participate in the tournament?"
Kamihane replied indifferently, "I'll give you three breaths. Get off the stage yourself."
From the viewing platform, someone shouted, "Are we done yet? The tournament is about to start!"
"Can't we stop this kid from causing trouble?"
"Honestly, the Tanba family can't even handle such a small matter…"
On the stage, the man's face flushed with embarrassment. He placed one hand on his sword hilt, his gaze sharp. "Kid, if you don't leave, don't blame me for what happens next!"
"Three breaths are up."
Kamihane vanished from his spot. The man only saw a shadow flash above him, and then a slender hand gently rested on his shoulder.
In the next moment, with a tremendous force, his vision spun wildly. The boy had effortlessly tossed him into the air with one hand!
The man flew in a straight line and crashed into a section of the viewing platform with a loud thud. The area erupted in cries of pain—it was the same spot where the loudest jeers had come from earlier.
"!!!"
The nobles were stunned. Some even stood up, their eyes darting suspiciously toward the main seat. But Tanba Shin'ya sat calmly, his eyes half-closed, and the entire guild appeared completely unfazed, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary.
"Guild Master Tanba, I demand an explanation!" A portly noble with a rotund figure spoke in a deep voice.
"Today is a martial arts tournament. Only the strongest can become my son-in-law. It's inevitable that there will be some bloodshed," Shin'ya replied with a sly smile. "Swords have no eyes. Isn't it normal for a few people to get hurt by accident?"
"Hmph!" The noble snorted, unable to argue further, and muttered under his breath, "Once this is over, you'll pay for this!"
High above, the daimyo of the Land of Iron sat beneath an ornate canopy, a folding fan covering half his face, his expression thoughtful.
On the stage, Kamihane surveyed the crowd with a cold, piercing gaze.
"I know why you're all here today, but I find this tournament process rather tedious," he said, a wicked smile curling on his lips. "Let me simplify it for you. If you want to marry Miss Yukino, it's simple…"
"Step onto the stage and kill me!" His eyes were filled with aggression, his presence overwhelming. "My name is Kamihane. Today, I stand here as the challenger!"
As soon as these words were spoken, all the samurai present could no longer sit still. Such words were the last thing they wanted to hear.
The heart of a swordsman lies in being invincible. Each of them strives to move forward without hesitation.
To achieve greater accomplishments on the path of the sword, they adhere to their own principles and uphold their beliefs, never fearing strong opponents.
A tarnished sword heart is fatal.
Imagine this: if you don't even believe in yourself, how can you believe in the sword in your hand?
Thus, many samurai let out cold snorts, and a few hot-blooded ones couldn't help but curse aloud.
A hot-tempered samurai leaped onto the stage, glaring coldly at Kamihane. "My name is—"
His voice was cut off as he was sent flying off the stage in the next second, crashing into the wall with a thud, embedded so deeply that he couldn't be pulled out.
The crowd collectively swallowed hard, their eyes shifting back to the stage. There, Kamihane stood in a perfect side-kick stance, slowly retracting his leg.
"Don't waste my time with small fry," Kamihane said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. "Here's a piece of advice: this is the last time I'll show mercy. Anyone who steps up next, come prepared to die!"
His words caused an uproar, and the crowd erupted into a wave of shouts—not cheers, but a mix of crude curses and indignant challenges.
"Kid, don't look down on us!"
"Tell us your master's name! I'll definitely go and demand an explanation!"
"Do you really think Takeo City has no one capable?"
"Let me play with you!"
"No! Let me! My blade has been thirsting for blood!"
"Hmph, let my Fubuki-ryu test your mettle, brat!"
Kamihane basked in the sea of voices, spreading his arms wide. "No need for all that trouble. Come at me together!"
"Arrogant!!!"
Immediately, three samurai stepped onto the stage, surrounding Kamihane in a pincer formation.
This time, there was no idle talk. They struck first, their blades flashing like streaks of light. Three chakra-infused slashes flew out, all aimed directly at Kamihane.
"Hum—"
Everyone's jaws dropped as they witnessed the boy's body ripple with translucent waves, like a clear spring, deflecting all the slashes away.
"Whoosh!" Kamihane's hand gripped the hilt of his sword, and the blade's light flowed like water, dazzling everyone's eyes.
The three samurai's tachi were all severed in an instant, and with sprays of blood, they were sent flying off the stage.
By the time the crowd realized what had happened, "Frostfall's Resolve" was already sheathed.
"That… that was an incredibly fast draw…"
"More than that… the defensive technique he just displayed is even more unbelievable…"
"Hey! What was that? Did you see it clearly…?"
The crowd buzzed with discussion. Kamihane's brief yet stunning display of defense and counterattack had reignited the atmosphere of the arena.
Thanks to the special ability of his "Sea God's Body," Kamihane could not only manipulate water in the ocean but also use the water molecules in the air, condensing them on his body to create a high-density protective barrier.
This water-molecule shield was incredibly resilient and, being transparent, was almost invisible to the naked eye.
This ability could be consciously controlled or triggered subconsciously. His body would automatically gather water molecules the moment before an attack landed, deflecting the damage.
To break through this water shield, blunt force was clearly not the best option. A concentrated thrust or slash would be more effective.
But… the slashes of these samurai were far too weak. They couldn't even break the shield, let alone touch his even more formidable body.
"Small fry, small fry… why is it all just small fry?"
Kamihane frowned slightly. "If you're weaker than these three, don't bother coming up here to die!"