Even though she had long recognized her own violent nature and felt a deep sense of inferiority because of it, Saeko had never once engaged in self-degrading behavior. On the contrary, she kept herself impeccably pure in her daily life, constantly striving to embody the grace of a traditional Yamato Nadeshiko.
But now, this bastard's actions had undoubtedly crossed her bottom line.
Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!
Faced with the bastard who dared to commit such a profane act against her, Saeko roared madly in her heart.
This time, rather than choosing to suppress her killing intent as she usually did, she instead allowed the killing intent in her heart to spread wildly.
"Die!"
The arm gripping the White Oak Bokken coiled with tension. Veins bulged on the back of her hand as she unleashed another slash at the enemy before her.
This strike was blindingly faster than the first, and its power was absolutely incomparable to the previous blow.
Fueled by Saeko's fury and killing intent, the strike was incredibly fierce. In terms of pure aura, it was infinitely close to the apex of swordsmanship—the realm of Zantetsu.
A diagonal slash cutting from the top right to the bottom left.
If this strike connected, there was absolutely no doubt it would cleave the opponent clean in two. Even if Saeko was only using an ordinary White Oak Bokken meant for practice.
Yet, as if having anticipated it, the man in black took a single step back, perfectly evading the sharp edge of the White Oak Bokken.
"Huh?"
Saeko snapped her head up, staring at the enemy with eyes full of killing intent, as if shocked he could actually dodge her attack.
Without overthinking it, she violently pushed off the ground. The shockwave kicked up beneath her feet pushed the surrounding dust outward like a ripple, carrying enough force to practically shatter the pavement.
Her entire body launched toward the enemy like a fired cannonball.
Since one strike failed, then she would swing again—ten times, a hundred times...
She wouldn't stop until he was dead!
Saeko originally thought the opponent would use his speed to dodge her attack just like before. Instead, she saw the man in black raise his hand, and a White Oak Bokken of the exact same style materialized out of thin air.
The man in black grasped the White Oak Bokken and blocked horizontally in front of him.
A superpower? Or some kind of unknown high-tech gadgetry?
Regardless of what it was, at least for her, the opponent's willingness to pick up a weapon and compete in swordsmanship was a good thing.
Because when it came to swordsmanship, Saeko had absolute confidence.
This confidence didn't stem simply from her winning the National Kendo Tournament twice. Rather, it was because she had been officially awarded the title of Busujima Style Menkyo Kaiden under the witness of her family's dojo.
Simply put, she had already completely mastered all the sword techniques of the Busujima Style, reaching a level of absolute perfection. Were it not for her identity as a woman, with her level of swordsmanship, she could have inherited the family dojo long ago.
At this moment, every inch of Saeko's body radiated a terrifying killing intent. Engulfed in her own bloodlust, she moved like a venomous serpent unhinging its jaw to swallow its prey whole. And the White Oak Bokken in her grip was her sharpest fang.
Soon, the two wooden blades collided.
Crack!
A deafening shockwave exploded from the point of impact, echoing like two meteors colliding in the dead of night. Had their weapons been forged of steel rather than wood, the friction alone would have showered the alley in a blinding cascade of sparks.
"Ngh!"
Saeko grunted, her eyes widening. His physical strength was far more monstrous than she had anticipated. The violent recoil vibrating down the shaft of her sword tore at the webbing of her hands, sending spikes of agonizing pain up her arms.
In stark contrast, her opponent hadn't even shifted his footing. He absorbed her ultimate strike like a mountain weathering a breeze.
But this was exactly what she wanted.
A one-hit kill was boring. His overwhelming defense merely proved he was a target worthy of her wrath. It was a biological fact that women naturally possessed less raw physical strength than men. If she couldn't crush him with power, she would butcher him with pure skill.
Saeko rapidly shifted her grip, transferring her primary leverage to her uninjured left hand, and immediately launched a ferocious counter-offensive.
This time, she abandoned heavy, telegraphed swings in favor of fluid, rapid-fire precision. She unleashed the entire arsenal of the Busujima Style, seamlessly shifting her attack angles every time her blade was parried.
Her strikes rained down like a relentless, catastrophic hurricane, desperately trying to tear through his defenses.
Yet, amid the blinding storm of her fury, the man in black remained an immovable fortress. No matter what technique she threw at him, he casually swatted her blade aside, neutralizing her every attempt.
Thirty minutes later...
"What... are you?"
Saeko leaned heavily on her White Oak Bokken, using it as a crutch to keep her trembling legs from giving out. Her eyes were clouded with deep, undeniable exhaustion.
Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, stinging her eyes, but she didn't even have the spare energy to wipe them away. Half an hour of maximum-intensity combat had completely drained her stamina reserves.
If she hadn't been trained in the highly efficient breathing techniques of the Busujima Style, pacing her energy output flawlessly, she would have collapsed in the first five minutes. A normal person swinging wildly at the air would be gasping for breath in seconds, let alone sustaining a high-speed duel to the death.
But the man standing in front of her was an absolute monster.
Not only had he matched her pace for over thirty minutes, but he had fought entirely on the defensive. He hadn't launched a single counterattack. His guard was utterly impenetrable, and he had spent the entire duel toying with her like a cat batting around a dying mouse.
Now, with her energy completely spent, he simply stood there—breathing perfectly normally, completely unbothered, as if the fight had never even happened.
She couldn't win. It was statistically impossible.
Staring at this invincible anomaly, Saeko couldn't see a single path to victory.
But fighting to my absolute limit before I die... it isn't a bad way to go.
Summoning the very last dregs of her strength, Saeko reversed her grip on the White Oak Bokken and pressed the blunt tip directly over her own heart.
She absolutely refused to be violated. She would rather end her own life here and now. The wooden sword wasn't sharp, but with enough velocity, and by bypassing her ribs, she could easily crush her own heart.
However, the moment she tried to plunge the blade downward, it slammed into an immovable object.
"What?"
She looked up. The stalker's hand was clamped firmly around the wooden shaft, completely paralyzing her weapon.
Without uttering a single word, he reached up with his free hand, pulled back his hood, and tore off his face mask, finally revealing the face he had kept hidden.
He had clean, sharply cut black hair and deep, mesmerizing dark eyes. To put it simply, the man possessed an infuriatingly flawless, top-tier aesthetic.
"Su... Suyan? How... why is it you?"
Staring at the face she knew so well, Saeko's pupils dilated in absolute shock.
There was a saying that if a person encounters someone far too magnificent in their youth, every other person they meet for the rest of their life will feel like a tragic compromise.
To the usually cold and distant Saeko, this underclassman named Suyan was exactly that. He was her untouchable, radiant white moonlight.