The Ryougi truly were a family of deep tradition. In theory, Shiki's father—the true head—spent most of his time away and could go years without returning.
So with Kaname acting as proxy, plus Shiki's mother and Shiki herself, the main household—servants included—was only five or six people.
Yet deep in the estate, there was a dojo large enough for thirty or forty people to train at once. Even a high school famous for its kendo club might not have a space this large.
Inside, the dojo was clean and traditional. High-quality wooden flooring. Protective gear, training tools, and a great number of bamboo swords were arranged neatly on racks along the edges.
Yuuki had never done anything like this. Even his protective gear was fitted by servants, piece by piece. Holding a bamboo sword over a meter long, he stood in the center of the floor, at a loss.
Kaname had already changed into a pure white training uniform and stood not far away with his own bamboo sword.
As an adult, Kaname's height and presence exceeded Yuuki's by far. Even relaxed and without a stance, he still radiated pressure.
Perhaps to ease it, Kaname smiled and explained:
"Even though the Ryougi have sword traditions, we also train for ruleless combat. Yuuki, you haven't seen 'non-human things,' so you might not understand."
He lifted his sword slightly.
"They don't care about rules."
As it happened, Yuuki had encountered something non-human. If his guess was correct, that "corpse demon" from earlier would have been the sort of thing the Ryougi dealt with.
So the Ryougi fought monsters like that all the time?
Yuuki's expression sharpened.
"Kaname… you're not wearing protective gear?"
"No," Kaname said. "Don't worry. Even if you hit me, it won't be a problem."
Then he added, smiling:
"Your movement range is the whole dojo. As for me…"
Kaname traced a circle on the floor with the tip of his sword.
"…this area. Considering you haven't fully healed, I'll also give you one hand. If you can land one hit on me, or force me out of my circle, you win. I'll handle Shiki."
As he spoke, Kaname held the sword one-handed and placed his other hand behind his back.
"No time limit?" Yuuki asked.
"Hmm… good point. If you can still stand up afterward, we'll add a time rule later."
Yuuki didn't understand what Kaname meant—
until Kaname, as if intentionally warning him, said lightly:
"You're still inside my attack range, you know."
"Wha—"
Intuition screamed.
Yuuki raised his bamboo sword sideways to guard—yet he still got launched, rolling seven or eight times before slamming into the weapon rack. His bamboo sword went flying.
"Oh! For a complete novice, that was quick reflexes. Can you stand?"
Yuuki wasn't fully healed, naturally. He'd rested too briefly. His ribs had been accelerated by Tama's ability, but the moment he moved too violently, pain still surged.
But more than that, Yuuki, struggling upright against the rack, stared at where he had been standing.
The distance between Yuuki and Kaname was over two meters. If Kaname couldn't leave his circle, at most his sword tip should barely reach.
Yet the force just now wasn't a mere graze.
"Did you hold the hilt at the very end to extend your reach?"
"Haha. Sharp, Yuuki," Kaname praised warmly. "If you'd trained from the same age as my sister, maybe you'd be able to defeat me easily by now."
The principle was simple, but execution was hard. The farther back you held the hilt, the more force you needed during weapon clashes—sometimes exponentially. Without a strong grip, the weapon would slip.
Yet Kaname not only produced enough power to send Yuuki flying—he did so one-handed.
A direct approach wouldn't work.
Yuuki looked around and noticed that among the racks—besides single-handed bamboo swords—there were also wooden short swords, training daggers, and tools not commonly seen in school kendo clubs.
Shiki, after all, wasn't only skilled with Japanese swords. She could handle short blades and daggers with startling proficiency. She had even thrown a knife from behind—at close to ten meters, in poor night visibility—and pierced a heart.
That wasn't "instinct" alone. It required practice.
So the dojo being unusually large, and training being unusually permissive, was likely intentional—to mimic real combat.
Whoosh.
Yuuki tested the idea by grabbing a training dagger and throwing it.
Kaname didn't move. The dagger flew past, missing him by about ten centimeters.
His aim was poor. But Kaname didn't object—meaning throwing weapons was allowed.
And unlike Yuuki, who had the whole dojo to move, Kaname's tiny circle became a real restriction the moment projectile options existed.
Yuuki began loading as many small throwable weapons onto his body as possible. The training outfit even had convenient cloth sheaths.
Then he started circling the dojo, throwing relentlessly.
"Good thinking," Kaname said, approving rather than condemning.
But Yuuki didn't relax.
The monstrous strength Kaname had shown didn't resemble an ordinary human. And Yuuki didn't doubt Kaname also had throwing technique—more accurate than Yuuki's.
But for Kaname, throwing his only bamboo sword would be a zero-margin move. If he did it, it would be precise—and unavoidable.
Intuition D was still too low-ranked.
Yuuki's intuition screamed most violently in close-range combat. Against long-range attacks, it was far less sensitive—by the time it warned him, it might already be too late.
If only he had a "protection against arrows" like Cú Chulainn…
Holding his nerves taut, Yuuki activated Overlapping Thought, and a rough, workable plan began to form in his mind.
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