Keitaro navigated his way through the busy marketplace of the village, which was a sharp contrast to the destruction he had caused just a week earlier. The giant hole he had created with his excessive attack was now a faint memory, having been replaced by the construction of a new well.
He felt proud of his accomplishment, but at the same time, he felt ashamed of his actions.
He realized that destroying things was easy, and it only took one blow to cause significant damage. But rebuilding was a completely different story. It was a slow and difficult process, which required a great deal of effort and patience. It was a reminder of the consequences of having too much power and not exercising it responsibly.
He needed to be more efficient, he shouldnt let his power mindlessly destroy everything, he needed to control it and harness it.
He spent his days in the village, treating minor ailments with his herbal remedies and reminding everyone that he was just a man with a backpack of herbs and a lot of guilt. In the evenings, he helped with the construction of the new well, hauling stones, mixing mortar, and learning the intricate details of well-digging. It was a new skill set for him, and he was slowly becoming accustomed to it.
As he surveyed the growing well one evening, he muttered to himself, "Destroying stuff is definitely way easier." A chuckle erupted from beside him. An old woman, with a lifetime of laughter lines etched on her face, leaned on her shovel. "That it is, young man," she said. "But sometimes, the most important battles are fought with shovels, not fists."
Keitaro returned the chuckle, This woman in a sense was right , this was forcing him to learn how to control his ability, something that he wasnt used to..not because he had so much raw power destroying came easy to him.
No, he usually had so much control over his ability....this was the first time he had let it slip and the results weren't pretty at all.
Keitaro crouched at the edge of the new well, the setting sun casting an orange glow across the growing hole. Despite his progress, the well wasn't well, deep enough. Frustration chews at him. He knew there was water...they had well there to begin with, all he needed to do was find the water.
It shouldn't have been that hard.
With a determined glint in his eye, Keitaro summoned a surge of cursed energy. He wasn't about to wait passively for the manual digging to reach the water table. Nope, he would just create his own path.
His hand blurred, rapidly channeling the energy into a swirling vortex – a Rasengan, albeit a modified one. One that was made with the sole purpose of serving as a drill....even though the rasengan in its base state was a drill.
This version fitted that description a bit better...as Keitaro added alot more spin into it.
With a guttural grunt, Keitaro slammed the Rasengan into the bottom of the well. A shower of dust and debris erupted as the spiralling ball of curse energy was slammed into the floor beneath them.
This Rasengan was unlike any Rasengan he had ever attempted. Maintaining its spherical shape while using it as a drill was incredibly challenging—the natural tendency of the Rasengan was to expand upon impact was kind of hard to suppress. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he strained himself, channeling every ounce of focus into maintaining the form.
It was grueling work, a constant battle of willpower against the inherent properties of his technique. But with each slam and bite into the earth, Keitaro pushed his limits. He felt his control growing, his ability to manipulate his cursed energy with pinpoint precision increasing by the second. His control over his curse energy increases with each passing second.
Akane was seen refueling his dwindling curse energy reserve, he could go on for a long time.
Hours passed, and Keitaro was seen doing the same thing he was doing hours earlier, he was seen creating rasengans, using it as a drill and as the Rasengan could no longuer maintain its shape and vanish, he would just make another one and continue the process all over again.
As he slammed the Rasengan into the earth, a dull thud replaced the usual crunch of dirt. A sense of resistance, a feeling of pushing against something denser – water. A surge of joy shot through Keitaro. He had found it!
With renewed vigor, he continued drilling, the Rasengan tearing into the earth with newfound purpose. Soon, a trickle appeared at the bottom of the well, The trickle grew into a steady flow, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.
Keitaro felt relieved as he managed to dodge the surge of water that erupted from the well. He leaped out of the way just as the torrent filled the newly carved space. Now, he sat on the damp ground, his chest heaving, and water dripping from his hair and clothes. However, a wide grin stretched across his face, rivaling the brilliance of the moon now climbing the night sky. He had finally done it. He had found water.
The villagers cheered as they gathered around the well, their faces a mixture of relief and awe. They rushed forward, cupping their hands in the overflowing well, the cool water a gift from the heavens, or rather, from a very determined exorcist.As Keitaro caught his breath, a teenage girl approached him. She was holding a clay cup filled to the brim, offering it to him shyly.
"For me?" Keitaro asked, his voice hoarse.
The girl nodded, her eyes wide with admiration. He accepted the cup with a grateful smile. "Arigatou," he said, taking a long drink. The cool water was a balm to his parched throat, a reward for his arduous labor.