[Sora's POV]
(Flashback)
"Grandpa, I don't understand. I've been training with the sword for four years, but when I do the same moves as you... they don't sound or feel as sharp."
"Let's see how I can explain this... Sora, do you remember when you begged us for weeks to buy you a guitar? And then, after we finally got it for you, you wouldn't stop bugging us until we sang a song together?"
"Do you remember the advice you gave me to sing better?"
"You said, 'Grandpa, don't just recite the words out loud, try to remember a memory that the music brings up, and sing with that memory in your voice.' When you said that, Sora... you surprised me."
"The same applies to fencing. It's not just about putting emotion behind the sword; it's also about understanding the essence of each style. You need to know not only the movements but where they come from.
What do they mimic?
What inspired them?
What's the idea behind each motion?
When you understand these questions, then you can say you know the essence or the idea behind the swordsmanship you're practicing.
Are they mimicking an animal? Or were they inspired by nature? There are all kinds of sword styles, many of them incredible, and many lost because their essence was forgotten. Every style has a lesson, a core idea, and if you truly want to master it, you first need to understand that essence."
(End of Flashback)
When I recalled that conversation with my grandfather, back when I was just ten, it made me think... What is the fencing I'm trying to replicate based on? Where is this style inspired from? What memory should I put into my sword?
The moment those questions entered my mind, it was like I was underwater again... back when I held Jud in my arms before the truck exploded... and when it did, I relived the force of the currents pulling us deeper into the water.
Yes, those currents—unrelenting and fierce—were just like the ones I felt in that moment.
When I snapped out of the memory...
I...
THUMP THUMP, BA BOOM, BA BUMP, BA BUMP, THUMP THUMP, BA BOOM, BA BOOM, BA BUMP, BA BOOM.
.
.
"I might act rashly. I might be childish, even foolish at times... but I'm living the way I want to, with a smile on my face. And damn it, that's not going to change! Old man, you're right about one thing—I need the strength to take responsibility for my words and protect the people I care about from the consequences of my actions. But... THAT'S IT!!! I'M NOT CHANGING! SCREW YOU, OLD MAN... I'M GONNA BEAT YOU!"
The moment I shouted that... suddenly two things happened, like my body was reacting to what I had just declared.
I felt my eyes light up again... but this time, without any emotions weighing me down or holograms guiding me. My eyes just lit up... as if...
♪...♪
Then I started hearing music in my head again. When I recognized the song, I knew Arc agreed with what I had said. He played the final verse of Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd:
♪ Lord knows, I can't change ♪
♪ Lord help me, I can't changeeeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEe♪
♪ Lord, I can't changeeeeeee ♪
♪ Won't you flyyyyyyyy high, FREEEEEEE!!!!! BIRD!!! ♪
♪ YEAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! ♪
It wasn't just the music. I felt my body heating up. My skin reddened for an instant, as if my body was burning some kind of fuel. I started sweating, and steam hissed out like my body was reacting to whatever ARC had triggered.
It filled my exhausted body with energy, but also intense pain—so much that I had to clench my teeth just to bear it. Then, suddenly, the pain shut off, like someone flipped a switch, as if my brain had just cut off the signal.
It was a warning—a sign that my body couldn't hold out much longer. I had to act fast.
Without wasting another second, I turned toward the old man. The music kept playing in my head, the guitar solo building as I focused more and more. The rhythm in my head synced with my movements. The more I concentrated, the slower the music seemed to play... until all that was left was Grandpa and the music.
[Musashi's POV]
.
.
"...I'M GONNA BEAT YOU!"
When Sora said that, two things happened that I couldn't process at the time.
The first was that his eyes lit up again, glowing a much stronger blue than before. But there was no change in Sora's determined, defiant expression.
The second was that his skin turned red, as if he'd suddenly come down with a fever. He was sweating heavily, steam rising off his body, like he was burning himself from the inside out, drawing energy from wherever he could.
"You're NOT cutting off our wings, OLD MAN!"
He shouted at me with sharp, intense eyes... and then he started... nodding to some rhythm I couldn't hear. It was as if Sora was following music in his mind, and with every second, the sense of danger around him grew.
"COME ON, GRANDPA! TIME TO START ROUND 2!"
That snapped me out of my shock as I watched him take a deep, audible breath—like he was about to dive underwater.
And that's when I realized... The kid had done it! He understood the essence behind the swordsmanship that had eluded him.
Without wasting any time, Sora charged at me, leaping into the air with his arms spread wide, like a bird opening its wings, only to cross them mid-flight, sword tucked under one arm.
The moment he came within range, Sora grinned as he released the breath he'd been holding, swinging his sword in a strong horizontal slash. It felt like a powerful current of water flowed behind his blade, lending strength to his attack.
"Damn," I muttered, surprised by the force behind it. I had to respond seriously, countering with a vertical slash.
Our blades collided, generating sparks—stronger and more intense than any clash we'd had so far.
Sora's horizontal slash met my vertical one, and for a moment, neither of us budged. But then... the illusion of the current following Sora's sword pushed it forward, giving him strength.
To my disbelief, my sword began to inch back toward my face. I couldn't believe it. For the first time, Sora had overpowered me in sheer force. His blade came dangerously close before I managed to stop it.
When I finally halted his attack, his sword was mere inches from my face. An uncontrollable grin spread across my face as I realized the boy had tapped into something new—something powerful.
The illusion faded as our swords locked, like a wave crashing against the rocks. But the excitement in Sora's eyes... it was unmistakable.
And then I noticed it—a small cut on my cheek. He'd drawn blood.
"HAHAHA!"
'How long?'
"HAHAH...!"
'HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE SOMEONE MADE ME BLEED WITH A SWORD?'
With renewed energy, I planted my feet and countered, pushing his sword back.
Sora, feeling the force of my blow, released the pressure on his own attack. He used my strength against me, kicking off my chest and launching himself backward.
He flew across the room, twisting in the air, only to land on the wall, legs coiled like springs, absorbing the impact.
Then, like an arrow loosed from a bow, he launched himself at me again, sword held high.
This time, I prepared to meet him, positioning my sword to block his downward slash.
But just before he reached me, Sora flipped mid-air, spinning with his sword...