Eichi had spent the last ten days thinking about the upcoming battle. He had finally pieced together a plan, but the weight of it pressed on his mind. It wasn't just about strategy—he was going to have to fight.
His body was in good shape, built from years of routine workouts after long shifts, but raw strength meant nothing if he didn't know how to use it. He had no real combat training, no techniques, no refined skill. Just muscle alone wouldn't be enough against trained fighters.
Eichi hesitated for a moment before an idea struck him. Why don't I just have Sakimura train me? If anyone could teach him how to fight, it had to be the man who had been by his side all this time.
Without wasting another second, he called for Sakimura. When his trusted aide entered the room, Eichi leaned forward, trying to mask his nervousness. "Sakimura, tell me… how am I supposed to fight as a leader? What's the most fitting style for me?"
Sakimura's expression didn't change, but inside, he was shaken. So the Young Master has finally decided to reveal his true strength? He clenched his fist slightly, feeling honored to witness this moment.
With a deep bow, he answered, "Master, there is no need for you to fight. Your strength is beyond question, and your presence alone commands respect. If you were to step onto the battlefield, it would mean that we—the warriors of the Arata Clan—are incompetent. That is unacceptable. We will fight in your stead so that your brilliance can guide us from above."
Eichi blinked, completely caught off guard. Wait… what? That's not what I meant. But before he could correct him, Sakimura continued, his eyes burning with resolve.
"You are our leader, Young Master. A true leader does not wield a sword unnecessarily—he wields people. That is the role you must embrace."
Eichi opened his mouth, then closed it. Well… I guess that means I don't have to fight, right?
Not fully understanding how things spiraled so quickly, he simply nodded. "Ah… right. Of course. That makes sense."
Sakimura nodded in approval, convinced more than ever that Eichi was following the grand path of a true ruler.
Eichi couldn't help but be impressed by Sakimura's unwavering trust. He really believes in me that much? It was almost overwhelming how much faith the clan placed in him. Even if it was all a misunderstanding, the sheer loyalty of his subordinates made him feel both honored and guilty.
But deep inside, another thought crept in. Even if they trust me, I can't just stay completely defenseless. He couldn't wield his authority forever without at least knowing how to protect himself. He needed something—at least one technique—so he wouldn't feel completely useless.
That's when it hit him. Of course! I have the most reliable source of combat knowledge at my disposal…
Manga and anime.
If the warriors of the Arata Clan wouldn't train him, then he'd learn from the best—the fictional masters he had admired for years. He had absorbed countless battle strategies from stories, witnessed legendary techniques, and memorized countless fight scenes. If I can't train the normal way, then I'll just copy what I've seen.
Eichi sat up, determination burning in his eyes. He had a new goal now. He was going to teach himself how to fight, using every move, stance, and technique he had ever seen in manga.
Surely… this couldn't go wrong.
Eichi looked at Sakimura and said, "Sakimura, bring me a wooden katana. I want to move my body a bit."
Sakimura, as always, took Eichi's words seriously. He gave a respectful nod before swiftly leaving the room. Moments later, he returned, presenting a wooden katana with both hands as if it were a sacred weapon.
"Young Master, here is your wooden katana," Sakimura said, his voice filled with reverence. "I will guide you to the training hall."
Eichi took the wooden blade, giving it a few light swings. Alright, this doesn't feel too bad. Even though he had no real experience, he had seen plenty of swordsmen in manga pull off insane techniques. If he could just mimic them, maybe he could figure something out.
But first, there was something more important to take care of.
Before heading to the training hall, Eichi quickly grabbed his manga and began crafting a new cover for it. It had to look like a serious combat manual, not an action-packed story filled with flashy moves. He carefully wrapped it with a plain sheet, scribbling down an official-looking title: "Advanced Sword Combat & Footwork."
There. Now if anyone sees me reading, they won't suspect a thing.
With his "combat manual" in hand and his wooden sword at his side, Eichi followed Sakimura toward the training hall, ready to put his completely self-taught, manga-inspired techniques to the test.
Eichi stepped into the training hall, gripping the wooden katana with both hands. He took a deep breath, recalling a certain red-haired swordsman from one of his favorite manga. His stance widened, his knees bent slightly, and he tried to replicate the fluid, effortless movements he had seen countless times on the pages of his books.
If it worked for him, it should work for me, right?
With a determined expression, he swung the wooden katana in a wide arc, attempting to mimic the elegant, precise strikes of the swordsman he admired. But reality was far less forgiving than fiction. His first swing was too stiff, the second was too slow, and by the third, he nearly lost his balance.
Sakimura, watching from the side, couldn't help but feel a deep sense of awe. To him, Eichi's movements weren't clumsy attempts at copying a fictional character—no, they were calculated, controlled, and filled with hidden intent.
He's suppressing his strength, Sakimura thought, his fists clenching. Of course! A true master wouldn't reveal their real skill so easily. He's testing the waters, warming up before unleashing his true form.
Eichi exhaled, wiping his forehead. Wow, swinging a sword is way harder than it looks.
But to Sakimura, it looked like something entirely different.
"Young Master," Sakimura said, his voice filled with admiration, "your technique... it's profound. I can see it. You're holding back, aren't you?"
Eichi blinked. "Uh… yeah, totally," he said, playing along. Wait, is he actually taking me seriously?
Sakimura nodded, convinced. "Your movements resemble those of an experienced warrior, but you restrain yourself. I understand now—you're preparing to unleash something even greater."
Eichi gulped. Oh no. He really believes it.
Sakimura straightened up, determination burning in his eyes. "I see, Young Master. You don't need me to train you... I need to train myself to even grasp a fraction of your wisdom!"
Eichi stared at him, gripping his wooden katana tightly. What have I gotten myself into this time?
Eichi let out a sigh of relief as Sakimura left the training hall. That was too close... If he kept watching, he'd probably figure out I have no idea what I'm doing. He glanced at the wooden katana in his hands, then at his own reflection in the polished floor.
"I need to take this more seriously… or at least figure out how to not embarrass myself," he muttered.
Meanwhile, outside the training hall, Sakimura walked with purpose, seeking out Kazuna. The moment he spotted him, he wasted no time sharing what he had just witnessed.
"Kazuna," Sakimura began, his tone filled with excitement, "I was just observing Young Master Eichi training with a katana."
Kazuna raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I didn't think he was the type to train with a sword."
Sakimura shook his head. "Neither did I, but what I saw… It wasn't normal."
Kazuna crossed his arms, intrigued. "Explain."
Sakimura took a deep breath. "At first glance, his movements looked like those of a beginner—clumsy, slow. But when I watched carefully, I realized something shocking. Every single swing, every strike he made… it was intentional. He wasn't missing because he lacked skill—he was deliberately restraining himself. His blade would only graze the target, just enough to leave a scratch, nothing more. The precision was unreal."
Kazuna's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you saying… he was controlling his strength on purpose?"
Sakimura nodded firmly. "Yes. If he had wanted to, he could have destroyed the target in a single strike. But instead, he chose restraint. It's a level of discipline I've never seen before. He's far more dangerous than we imagined."
Kazuna was silent for a moment before exhaling. "To think the Young Master had such hidden depths… We must be careful, Sakimura. If he's this powerful and we misunderstand his intentions, we might end up making a grave mistake."
Sakimura clenched his fists, his admiration for Eichi growing even stronger. "We need to let the others know. The Young Master isn't just capable—he's beyond anything we ever imagined."
And so, the rumor spread throughout the Arata Clan—Eichi's swordsmanship was precise beyond human limits, his restraint terrifying, his strength immeasurable. The truth, however, was far simpler.
Eichi, sitting alone in the training hall, sighed and placed the wooden katana aside. Yeah… I'm never doing this in front of Sakimura again.