After returning from the café, Seiya Arima's mood had clearly taken a turn for the better.
"If I can't find a way to break through just yet, shifting my focus to something else might not be a bad idea."
Taking things one step at a time seemed like the best approach for now.
"Let's get Kido up to 60 points first!"
The idea of seeing all his core abilities reach a solid, balanced level sounded appealing.
With his mindset adjusted, the scenery around him suddenly seemed much more pleasant.
"So, this is what they mean by a broad mind leading to a wide world, huh?"
For the first time, Seiya began to understand that sentiment.
Seiya's cheerful grin didn't go unnoticed.
As he slurped his miso soup, Yamamoto cast a sideways glance at the boy, his expression faintly puzzled.
"Why's he grinning like that… it's unsettling."
When Seiya stood to get more rice, Yamamoto leaned toward Chojiro Sasakibe and asked quietly,
"Did something good happen to him?"
Chojiro looked equally puzzled.
"I'm not sure."
"Did he get himself a girlfriend?"
"Sir, you can't assume that just because Seiya-kun spends time with Captain Kyoraku…"
Later that night, Seiya was, as usual, sprawled out on the dojo floor after another round of intense sparring with Yamamoto.
The old man wiped his body with a dry towel and, donning a thin robe, sat cross-legged on a cushion at the edge of the dojo.
"That's enough for today," Yamamoto announced.
Groaning, Seiya forced himself to sit up, took a deep breath, and yelled,
"Thank you for your guidance!"
His voice rang with energy.
Normally, Seiya would have limped back to the barracks by now.
But tonight was different.
Despite the bruises covering his body, his injuries didn't feel as debilitating as usual.
In fact, Seiya found that he could suppress the pain just by adjusting his breathing and tensing his muscles in the right way.
Standing still in the middle of the dojo, Seiya's eyes glazed over slightly.
He was drenched in sweat, panting heavily, and his muscles were screaming from exhaustion.
Yet, despite all that, his gaze remained unusually bright and focused.
Inhale. Exhale.
A simple action—yet he could feel the air filling his lungs, pressing through his bloodstream, and spreading through his entire body.
"This… is strange."
He felt as though he'd entered a peculiar state of mind.
Without consciously thinking about it, Seiya's body naturally moved into a fighting stance.
But…
What stance should I use?
Should he emulate the Genryū style he'd learned from Yamamoto?
Or adopt modern combat techniques?
Perhaps the traditional moves from the Shihōin clan's manual?
All these techniques swirled in his mind like fragments of shattered air.
As the autumn breeze swept through the dojo, carrying the scent of falling leaves, Seiya felt as though he could hear a voice.
It whispered to him, guiding him toward the perfect posture.
His right leg stepped forward.
Both knees locked into place, aligning his body like a proud, upright pine tree.
Then, he shifted his stance—his toes gripping the floor as if anchoring him to the earth.
His left hand rested on his hip, curled into a loose fist, ready for a follow-up strike.
But the focal point…
It was all in the right hand.
Starting from his shoulder, Seiya's muscles tensed, every sinew standing out in sharp relief.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart pounded like a drum, pumping blood at full throttle.
Sweat evaporated from his skin, his entire body taut like a coiled spring.
His right hand extended forward, forming a loose, half-curled fist.
Suddenly, a palpable presence began to fill the dojo.
The air around him seemed to ripple and shift, as though a powerful current of energy was swirling through the space.
From his cushion, Yamamoto silently turned his gaze toward the boy.
A subtle yet unmistakable feeling washed over him.
Even without understanding why, Yamamoto instinctively knew—something remarkable was happening before his eyes.
Chojiro Sasakibe approached, standing respectfully at Yamamoto's side.
"Yamamoto-sama… what's happening?"
"Just watch," Yamamoto said quietly.
For now, all they could do was bear witness.
Seiya remained in his stance, his focus unbroken.
Though he hadn't moved a muscle, he was absorbing every detail around him.
The flow of air.
The faint echoes of heartbeats.
It was as if every fiber of his being had attuned itself to his surroundings.
Suddenly, Seiya's right hand spread open, his fingers stretching into a five-point star.
There!
In a split-second, he sensed it—a fleeting, imperceptible moment.
Without hesitation, Seiya stepped forward with his right foot.
And then…
Slash!
The air itself seemed to split apart as his outstretched hand tore through it.
The vacuum created by the movement caused a sudden rush of air, roaring like a tidal wave.
Boom!
The shockwave burst outward, rattling the dojo's wooden panels and sending Yamamoto's long beard fluttering in the wind.
Chojiro instinctively took a step back, narrowing his eyes against the gale.
"What… was that?"
Even without spiritual pressure, the sheer force of Seiya's strike was enough to generate a devastating impact.
Yamamoto stood up and approached the boy.
He stopped behind Seiya, watching him maintain his posture—silent, focused, and unmoving.
Only after a long pause did Seiya finally exhale.
"Phew…"
Exhausted, he collapsed onto the floor with a dull thud.
Seiya lay there, panting heavily, his entire body trembling from the strain.
His muscles screamed in protest, pain radiating from every limb.
"It hurts… it really hurts…"
But despite the overwhelming pain, a broad smile stretched across Seiya's face.
Because…
He'd finally broken through.
System Notification
[You have successfully fused elements of swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat techniques.]
[Swordsmanship +2 | Hand-to-Hand Combat +2]
"I was right all along."
Seiya's theory had proven true.
The key to breaking past the soft cap of 60 points wasn't more repetitive training—it was integration and innovation.
By blending his existing skills in new ways, he could push his limits further than ever before.
From his prone position on the floor, Seiya grinned.
"This is my breakthrough…"
He clenched his fists, staring at them with newfound determination.
"Swordsmanship. Hand-to-hand combat."
"These are my strongest areas… and they're the easiest to develop further."
He'd reached a new milestone.
Yamamoto's voice broke the silence.
"So, boy… have you thought of a name for it?"
Seiya opened his sweat-soaked eyes, squinting at the old man's silhouette.
Though his vision was blurry, he could make out Yamamoto's expression—one of quiet satisfaction.
After a moment of contemplation, Seiya chuckled softly.
"No need to overthink it."
He sat up, wiped his brow, and declared with a grin,
"This is my own style."
"It has no special meaning, so…"
"Let's just call it… My Way."
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Powerstones?
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