svetikya Page 6
Page 6
Ryosuke didn't look at him and stretched.
"I was just telling the truth."
Shota didn't take it seriously.
Back in Momoyama, Rika, who was training, immediately ran over to the two of them upon seeing them.
Shota happily opened his arms, ready to receive his sister's embrace.
But Rika completely ignored him and ran headfirst into Ryosuke's arms.
Shota: (゜д゜)
Shota was so frightened that he immediately produced the original drawing.
When the hell did my house get robbed?!
Rika raised her head and looked at Ryosuke with a smile.
"Ryosuke-nii, welcome back."
Ryosuke nodded and ruffled her hair.
In fact, Rika had been delivering medicine to Ryosuke for the past six months.
Because the three of them had been training and growing together, the oblivious Shota was completely unaware.
Seeing this scene, Shota completely exploded!
"Hey! You little brat! I'm your brother! Your own brother!"
"Hmph! My brother is so much healthier than Ryosuke, so it's only natural that he came back!"
The little girl tilted her nose up and said.
"Alright! Let's see how I deal with you!"
Shota was about to chase after Rika when he said that.
"Brother, you're so annoying!"
Pear Blossom hurriedly circled around Ryosuke to dodge him.
Ciwulang strolled leisurely over from afar.
Ryosuke stepped forward and bowed.
"Just come back."
Jigoro patted Ryosuke on the shoulder.
The days that followed were ordinary and mundane, consisting mainly of recovering from injury and training.
Whenever Rika wipes Ryosuke's sweat with a towel, Shota always clenches his teeth and scratches his head in a dark corner.
He started to take Ryosuke seriously, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
Ryosuke trained to run fifty laps, so he ran sixty laps.
Ryosuke swung his sword a hundred times, and he swung his sword two hundred times!
As a fine young man of the 21st century, Ryosuke upholds the excellent quality of never getting caught up in the struggle.
Of course, except for the first year when I was trying to learn breathing techniques and sword skills in order to survive.
Having finally gotten a chance to rest, Ryosuke naturally ignored Shota.
Let him roll it up as he pleases, I'll just leave it a little messy, is that okay?
At the same time, Ryosuke also immediately checked the system interface.
A year's lifespan should be a nice bonus, right?
But I was shocked when I saw it.
It takes nearly 22 years for Thunderbolt Flash to reach its full potential!
The advanced six-hit combo takes 5 years, and unlocking the speed boost takes a whopping 10 years!
What are we going to do with the remaining seven years of our lives?!
The system offers rebates!
Holy crap?!
"Damn system! Get the hell out here!"
[Hey dog host, what are you doing, moaning like that first thing in the morning?!]
"You, you explain to me why Thunderbolt Flash, even when fully upgraded, still takes seven years of fragmented upgrades."
How dare you say that!
[Going all in on the first time you add points, doing it piecemeal, only adds to my workload.]
[The last seven years were because the Seventh Form: Fire and Thunder God required Thunderclap Flash as a foundation, and after reaching the maximum level, it was directly mastered.]
Ryosuke's anger gradually turned into joy.
[Scream! Keep screaming, you son of a bitch!]
"Ahem... I admit, I was a little loud just now."
On the thirteenth day, people from the knife-forging village arrived.
The knife was delivered by a blacksmith wearing a fire-man mask.
He was tall, and his straw hat was covered with jars of unknown origin.
When he first saw Ryosuke, the spout-like part of the Fire Man mask suddenly spewed air, and he went berserk, instantly teleporting in front of Ryosuke!
That speed was comparable to a lightning flash!
"You! It's you! How the hell did you use that knife?!"
"It broke! It broke! You know that?!"
As Steel Mound roared, he poked Ryosuke's head with his finger.
The speed of his fingers created afterimages.
Ryosuke's lips twitched.
I also indirectly experienced the treatment that the protagonist, Tanzi, received.
Shota chuckled to himself, while Rika quickly stepped forward and pulled Steelzuka away.
Steel Tsukasa snorted and followed Jigoro into the house, placing the two swords he had brought in front of him.
Shota, unable to contain himself any longer, drew his own Nichirin Blade.
The blade is simple in design and feels slightly heavy in the hand.
He took a deep breath, pressed his thumb against the jaws, and exerted force!
The blade shifted, transforming into a golden yellow like lightning, its light pure and sharp.
"Great! Great! Great color!"
The eyes beneath the steel mound mask widened instantly, and two plumes of white steam shot out from the teapot spout.
He was extremely excited and punched Jigoro on the shoulder.
"See that! See that! The color is so beautiful! My knife! The knife I forged!"
Jigoro swayed slightly from the punch, glared at Steel Mound, and a hint of relief flashed in his eyes as well.
Shota has indeed inherited his mantle.
Shota was overjoyed and couldn't help but wave his arms a few times in place.
"Ryosuke-nii! Quick! Your knife! Pull it out and let me see!"
Rika nudged Ryosuke beside her, her big eyes full of anticipation.
Ryosuke lowered his eyes, gripped the hilt of the sword, and slowly pulled it out.
A deep, resonant sword cry rang out. Unlike the clear, melodious cry of the Shota sword, this sound was more powerful, as if it came from the bottom of a deep pool.
There was no thunderous golden light as expected.
As the blade transforms, its color gradually settles, turning into a lustrous white.
The white color was neither the coldness of snowflakes nor the chill of moonlight, but a jade-like warmth that quietly covered the entire blade.
"……white?"
The steel mound was filled with confusion and disbelief.
He stepped forward and moved closer to Ryosuke.
"Strange! Very strange! In all my years of forging swords, I've never seen such pure white!"
His voice was filled with fervent inquiry, and a hint of bewilderment.
How come a swordsman who practices Thunder Breathing has a white Nichirin Blade?
Ryosuke also fell silent.
He stared at the Nichirin Blade in his hand, his fingertips slowly tracing the spine of the blade.
There was a strange resonance in the cold touch.
Yes, this is his knife.
It was not a raging thunderbolt, nor a raging flame, nor a clear stream...
It is the luminous white that is revealed only after struggling on the edge of life and death and burning itself.
"It's beautiful, I like it very much."
Ryosuke finally spoke, sheathing his sword: "Thank you, Mr. Haganezuka."
"Pretty? You like it?"
The Iron Tomb seemed to choke on those two words.
He lunged forward, his Fire Man mask almost touching Ryosuke's face, the hot breath he exhaled carrying a metallic smell.