Early morning, at the Kamikaze Dojo.
Iaian, the head disciple, was the second person to rise in the dojo.
The first, of course, was his master, Atomic Samurai.
After getting up, Iaian neatly folded his bedding, put on a loose-fitting dojo training uniform, and then helped Okamaitachi, the cross-dressing swordsman, pull up the blankets that had been kicked off.
When he finished his ablutions and walked over to the training grounds, he saw his master, Atomic Samurai, swinging a wooden sword, the flowing sweat indicating he had been practicing for a long time already.
'Even Sensei, who has been hailed as the Strongest Swordmaster, works this hard. As his disciple, I have even less reason to be lazy.'
To avoid disturbing his master's training, Iaian simply gave a respectful bow to Atomic Samurai, then grabbed a wooden sword and found a separate spot to practice his specialty, the Iai Slice.
After practicing for an unknown period, Iaian, with sweat pouring down and his limbs growing stiff, exhaled, ending his morning session.
Turning around, he found Atomic Samurai standing behind him. He quickly called out, "Master, good morning!"
"Good morning, Iaian. Not bad. Give it another two or three years, and your Iaijutsu will have achieved true mastery." Atomic Samurai complimented.
"Yes, sir!" Iaian, who knew his master's personality well, understood the weight of that statement.
To achieve "true mastery" in this context represented the Strongest Swordmaster's affirmation.
'Two or three years, huh?' Iaian was full of ambition. 'If I practice one more hour every day, I should be able to shorten that time significantly.'
When the junior disciples woke up and arrived for their morning practice, Iaian began his next duty—instructing his juniors.
Atomic Samurai, whose standards were quite high, only personally instructed the Three Disciples, those who were barely worthy of his attention, leaving the training of the other students to them. In most cases, Iaian, being the most responsible, took charge.
After morning practice and breakfast, a guest arrived at the Kamikaze Dojo during their rest period.
…
"I didn't actually think you'd come." Iaian smiled, ushering Aomori into the dojo. "Welcome to the Kamikaze Dojo, Aomori-san."
"I have a slight interest in swordsmanship," Aomori, dressed in all black, returned the smile and stepped through the dojo gates.
Knowing Aomori had come to discuss swordsmanship, Iaian led him to the training hall. Unlike Bang's dojo, this one had an indoor training facility.
Inside the training hall, the disciples sat on two sides. As they watched Aomori walk in with their senior disciple, most of them were stunned.
"Hey, hey, hey, isn't that... you know who?"
"No way, I'm a huge fan of his!"
"My girlfriend loves him, too."
"Wait, since when did you have a girlfriend?"
"Ahem! Ahem!" Bushidrill, who was sitting next to Atomic Samurai, coughed twice. The disciples below immediately sat up straight and stopped their chatter.
By now, Iaian had led Aomori to the center of the training hall and introduced him. "Sensei, this is Aomori-san. I mentioned him yesterday. The swordsman who helped us deal with the Monster."
Aomori looked toward Atomic Samurai, who was sitting in the center. He had a long, narrow face, sparse stubble, a senbone held in his mouth, a high topknot tied at the back of his head, and wore an old-style samurai uniform—a quintessential ancient warrior image.
"It is a pleasure to meet the Strongest Swordmaster Kamikaze. I am Aomori, a newly initiated swordsman. I admire your reputation and hope to receive your instruction," Aomori said, neither subservient nor arrogant.
"Iaian speaks highly of you. Alright, you two have a match. If you can prove you have talent, I will take you on as my apprentice," Atomic Samurai's arrogance was mostly directed toward opponents. He was still willing to speak kindly to a junior like Aomori.
However, Aomori shook his head and replied, "If I can defeat Iaian, I hope to become your student."
An 'apprentice' and a 'student' are different. Generally, a teacher can have many 'students,' but an 'apprentice' is often singular, implying a master-disciple bond. The relationship between Aomori and Bang was also a more relaxed 'teacher-student' one.
"Defeat the Senior Disciple? What a boastful thing to say," one disciple grumbled.
"It's hard to say. He has defeated quite a few Monsters," another disciple chimed in, having a good impression of Aomori.
Atomic Samurai lifted his chin slightly and gave a cold smile. "Very well. If you can truly defeat Iaian using swordsmanship, then I don't mind being your teacher. Iaian, go. Fight well, and don't tarnish your Senior Disciple title."
"Yes, sir!" Iaian accepted the command, his eyes now filled with fighting spirit as he looked at Aomori. "Aomori-san, please."
The disciples quickly spread out, leaving open space as the two slowly retreated, putting distance between them.
As this was a sparring match, they both held a wooden sword.
Aomori let his right hand hang down, the tip of his sword pointing to the ground.
Iaian slightly bent his waist, his right hand resting on the sword hilt at his hip.
Both stared intently into the other's eyes, their fighting aura intertwining and colliding.
"Sensei, senpai is going to win, right?" Bushidrill, having sparred with Iaian countless times, knew how exceptional his swordsmanship was, but recalling the flash of fire from yesterday, he felt less certain.
"Iaian-senpai will definitely win," Okamaitachi said. "Although I'm quite fond of Aomori, I don't believe Iaian-senpai would lose in swordsmanship."
Atomic Samurai shook his head, instructing his two disciples: "A swordsmanship match is not so simple to determine a winner. Unlike soft fists, the sword is a lethal weapon. Victory and defeat can be decided in an instant if one is careless."
Bushidrill and Okamaitachi nodded in sudden understanding. Even though they were using wooden swords, being struck would still signify defeat.
"Therefore, never let your guard down when facing any swordsman. Because a swordsman who has not lost the ability to fight can always take your head, no matter the moment."
"Even so, Iaian-senpai still has the greater advantage. After all, his specialty is the Iaijutsu," Okamaitachi insisted.
The Iaijutsu is a style of swordsmanship focused on drawing and sheathing the sword quickly to strike down the opponent before they can react. It is an art that emphasizes a single, fatal blow.
Iaian had continuously practiced this art and was on the verge of reaching what Atomic Samurai called "true mastery." His opponents were often struck down before they could even perceive his draw.
Aomori, who was familiar with the plot, naturally knew of Iaian's technique. And his perpetually-used First Form of the Thunder Breathing could essentially be considered an Iaijutsu as well.
When it came to speed, he was equally confident against Iaian.
Aomori thought for a moment, then returned his wooden sword to his hip, adopting the same stance as Iaian.
"This is…" Okamaitachi was very surprised. "Does Aomori know the Iaijutsu too?"
"Heh, interesting," Atomic Samurai said with a look of amusement. "In that case, it will come down to whose sword is faster."
Iaian's expression remained unchanged. Whatever move his opponent made was irrelevant; he would only use his Iaijutsu to engage.
"Aomori versus Iaian!" shouted a disciple who was temporarily acting as a referee.
"Ready!"
Aomori and Iaian's eyes sharpened. Their right hands firmly gripped their sword hilts, their auras accumulating to a peak.
Gulp! In the tense atmosphere, many disciples involuntarily swallowed.
"Begin!"
It was as if a flash of light had passed. The disciples only felt their vision blur, and then they saw Aomori and Iaian had swapped positions.
"Th-They already struck? I didn't see anything."
"Is the match decided?"
"Who... who won?"
Atomic Samurai raised an eyebrow, his expression showing a hint of surprise.
After about two seconds, two zzzt sounds—the noise of fabric tearing—reached everyone's ears.
The clothing on Aomori's shoulder was split open, while Iaian's training uniform across his abdomen had a large tear, exposing his stomach.
The victor was determined.
The referee looked left and right, then back at Atomic Samurai, feeling a bit lost.
"Why are you looking at me? Announce the result!" Atomic Samurai said, a touch annoyed.
"Ah, yes, sir!" The referee wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and announced, "The winner is Aomori!"
"Iaian-senpai actually lost!" Okamaitachi couldn't believe his eyes.
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You can read the ahead chapter on Patr if you're interested: p-atre-on.c-om/Overgod [Just remove the hyphen to access normally]