A samurai launched himself into a dazzling display of twirling slashes. Arthur calmly watched with an unsettling stillness.
This wasn't mere showmanship; it was a well-trained samurai who knew how to use a sword. With each swing and flourish, Arthur's Tamashii absorbed the nuances of the samurai's kenjutsu.
The samurai's blade whistled through the air, a silver arc aimed at Arthur's head.
He didn't flinch, didn't raise a defensive arm. Instead, with grace, he dipped beneath the attack.
Another samurai launched an attack of his own. He swung his katana in a wide, sweeping arc, aiming to cleave Arthur in two. But Arthur sidestepped the attack with a barest movement, allowing the blade to carve through the empty air.
Suddenly, a third samurai lunged, seizing Arthur's wrist in a desperate attempt to gain control. Rather than feel stunned, Arthur was merely surprised.
He pivoted on the spot, pulling the samurai closer. An elbow met the man's chest with a crunch, followed by another that connected with his jaw. The samurai, stunned and disoriented, stumbled back, clutching his face.
"A true warrior should learn to use his sword more than his hands, wouldn't you agree?"
Seizing the opportunity, Arthur twirled his katana's hilt with only a few fingers. His body became a whirlwind, spinning on the balls of his feet with his weapon held high.
The blade flashed. With a flourish that mirrored Tatewaki's own earlier attack, he sliced the samurai's throat!
The man crumpled to the ground, gurgling on his blood. When he couldn't contain it, a tide of blood spewed from his neck. He tried to cover his throat as much as he could, but the blood kept spilling, pouring over his gloved hands.
Arthur's attack had cut so deep that there was no mending the wound. He watched, seeing the samurai's horrified eyes. There was only one thing going on in that man's head: 'This is the end.'
Lying flat on the ground, the samurai's body finally went limp. Then silence.
The remaining two samurai stared at their fallen comrade, not with grief but with understanding.
The blow that Arthur had delivered mirrored Tatewaki's technique with uncanny precision.
Was this a mockery? A calculated display of dominance? No, it was talent!
"Do you like it?" Arthur wondered, lacking any emotion in his tone.
Tatewaki, furious, roared out, "You will pay for that!"
He then charged at Arthur with a single-minded rage. His katana flashed, not with a single swing but with three. Each strike, imbued with chakra, sent shockwaves rippling through the air, aimed at cleaving Arthur where he stood.
But Arthur, with his heightened senses, could see the chakra within the attack.
He didn't move to block; rather, he flowed with the rhythm of the strikes, effortlessly flanking them as they tore through the empty space where he once stood.
He had recognized the technique as "Chakra Shockwave Slash," a formidable move, but one readily countered with a show of superior agility.
The second samurai, who had remained silent until now, finally moved. He stood in a peculiar stance, his katana sheathed, yet his hand poised on the hilt.
Like a predator, he launched himself towards Arthur with surprising speed, the blade still sheathed.
Arthur, whose eyes narrowed a fraction, saw the opening. He immediately used the first activation.
The samurai closed the distance in less than half a second. Just as the blade seemingly sliced Arthur's face off, a log stood in his place. It was easily cleaved in two, the samurai confused at what had happened!
Substitution technique successful.
The samurai, eyes wide with disbelief, violently spun around to find his opponent. Suddenly, a figure materialized behind Tatewaki. It was Arthur.
Tatewaki, sensing his presence, engaged in a series of sword clashes. Arthur himself remained calm as the two warriors locked blades, steel screaming against steel. They were like dancers with blades, striking and parrying against one another.
"You're skilled," Tatewaki grunted between blows. "But who are you? What village are you from?"
"The Leaf Village," Arthur replied, sidestepping a wild slash. "You should consider a visit if you live to tell the tale."
The exchange was brief, but brutal.
With a twist of his wrist, Arthur seized Tatewaki's katana-wielding hand. He followed up with a brutal knee strike, his chakra-enhanced leg slamming into Tatewaki's gut with a loud thud!
The blow broke the samurai's armour, sending him sprawling to the ground.
The other samurai, loyalty overriding caution, lunged at Arthur. But Arthur, ever-flowing, picked up Tatewaki's crumpled form with one hand and threw him at the approaching samurai.
The two slammed into each other, hitting the dirt in a tangled mess.
Arthur stood over them, his crimson eyes glowing menacingly.
"Unless you have any more to show me," he said, "then my time here is done."
It was a cold finality, an ultimatum.
He hadn't just been the clear victor; he was dissecting his prey, learning from their every move.
The fight had served its purpose. He now understood the basic principles of the "Iaidō" technique—the art of drawing and striking with the blade in one fluid motion.
There was room for refinement, but he had seen more than enough of it to practice the stance himself.
Tatewaki groaned as he pushed himself up. With a desperate snarl, he channeled chakra into his katana. The blade pulsed with a seeable blue light.
"Fracture strike!" he roared.
Arthur, amused, simply uttered a single word: "Oh…"
But it wasn't a word of fear; it was a word of interest. This "Fracture strike" looked far more impressive than the rudimentary "Beam of Light" technique Arthur had seen in the original tale.
Tatewaki ferociously swung the katana, causing waves of chakra erupted from the blade. Reacting with lightning speed, Arthur channeled his own chakra.
A blue aura quickly emanated from his body, swirling around his outstretched hand and enveloping his katana. Crystallized ice formed on the blade, transforming it into a weapon made of frosted steel.
With one swing, the icy blade met the waves of chakra with a thunderous boom, causing a plume of dust clouds to erupt.
The scene was obscured for a moment, but when it cleared, Arthur was standing strong. The icy blade held firm!
The two samurais watched in stunned disbelief. They had never encountered an opponent who wielded a blade of ice, let alone one who could so effortlessly counter their strongest techniques.
"Don't be dazzled by my might," Arthur addressed. "This ice is strong enough to withstand explosions that it cannot be destroyed easily."
Even without his Tamashii, Arthur could see how much his opponents were suffocating in this palpable nightmare.
He, however, wasn't interested in prolonged torture.
He had learned what he came to learn, so he raised his ice-encased katana over his shoulders and said, "I commend your effort, as this was my first time channeling ice chakra into a weapon."
The two samurais couldn't say a word. They were too awestruck at what they were witnessing.
'Third activation…'
A surge of power coursed through Arthur's veins, further transfiguring his form. With a burst of speed, he blurred past their vision.
Two precise strikes, one aimed at each remaining samurai, ended the fight with a finality that left no room for argument.
Arthur swiped his icy katana, causing their blood to splatter on the ground.
Some time later.
The chill of the night had begun to wane as dawn approached.
Arthur surveyed the scene. The samurais' shallow graves were already filled, and the loose earth smoothed over to make it harder for his actions to be discovered.
He wasn't one for trophies, but knowledge was a different kind of treasure. The techniques he'd visually seen firsthand—Iaidō, the Dancing Blade Hazard, the Chakra Shockwave Slash, and the Fracture Strike—were his rewards.
Perhaps unpolished and untamed, the right moment could be waited on to integrated these techniques into his growing arsenal.
His kenjutsu hadn't improved in a fundamental sense, but it had gained a vital layer of understanding. Now, when he trained, he wouldn't just be swinging a blade; he'd be wielding it with the awareness of a skilled swordsman.
More importantly, those who relied solely on swordsmanship would find their techniques predictable, their defenses vulnerable to someone who understood their every move.
With contentment, Arthur performed the flying raijin technique. A moment later, Wizened Town materialized before him. He was now hundreds of miles away from his previous location.
In this eccentric town, he would hone something new—the Enhancing Flattery technique.
But before he could start, he had to replenish himself. A grand fight took place, but upon performing the flying raijin, he was fresh out of chakra.
After sleeping, and having a meal in the hotel he lodged himself in, he stayed in his room.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the subtle flow of chakra within his body. He recalled Gengo's performance and the way he'd interlaced his voice and chakra into his tongue.
Focusing on that body part, the vital muscle that formed the foundation of the illusion, Arthur channeled his chakra.
It wasn't a brute-force maneuver; it was about coaxing the chakra to flow in a specific pattern. His advanced control served him well. Within an hour, the sensation became second nature.
Testing time.
He donned a simple disguise, transforming his appearance into that of a weary traveler seeking shelter. The sheriff's office awaited him.
He pushed open the door and saw the same burly man behind his desk.
"What's the problem?" the man asked.
Arthur gave him a smile and replied, "Nothing serious, sir. You just seem... a bit stressed. This job, it can be pretty demanding, don't you agree?"
The man grunted, his frown deepening for a moment before softening a little.
"You ain't wrong," he conceded, rubbing a hand over his face. "Gotta deal with a whole mess of folks, from petty thieves to drunken idiots. Enough to give anyone a headache."
Arthur pressed on, activating the Enhancing Flattery technique.
"Exactly," he said, leaning forward. "And, as you know, there's always another path. I hear the town's building a new plaza—perhaps a chance for a fresh start? Imagine a quieter life, greeting folks instead of dealing with drunks."
The man's eyes, previously focused on the desk, went upwards. He agreed, longing for a less stressful life. At that moment, he felt something behind him, so he turned around.
The illusion had taken hold!
"I'm sure if you applied, the owner would gladly hire you," Arthur mused.
"Y… Yeah, that's actually a great idea," the man replied as if he were unsure. "Do you know when the building's gonna be finished? I'd really like a job there."
Arthur could sense the man's willingness to abandon his post. More so, he could feel the eagerness of the man's utmost desire to serve and obey.
"They're still constructing it, so you'll have to wait, sir."
The man gave a disappointed frown. While his desires might have changed, he was still the same character at heart.
Arthur didn't need to verify it anymore. He had planted the seed, and he could feel his chakra receding. The man's subconscious, his very will, had been changed to desire a different career.
With a final, disarming smile, Arthur excused himself and strolled out of the office.
This was just the beginning.
Wizened Town, no, the whole country with its unsuspecting denizens, was going to be a playground for him to hone his newfound skill.