To Slice The Wind

Ryugyu

"Young master, that kid, his techniques are near perfection... Has he trained here for a while?"

The thin moustache that was trimmed well and balanced atop his upper lip twitched as the man whispered into Ryugyu's ears. His eyes were mesmerized by the powerful strikes demonstrated by the boy, almost perplexed by how it was even possible for a child to generate that much power behind his downward swings. The kid, who had a buzzcut was warming up by practicing the basic strikes of the Takeguchi style to get his limbs used to the powerful swings that was a staple to the sword school. 

"He goes by the name Genjiro. I'm thinking of sending him for the upcoming regional tournament. It is my duty to cultivate this style and spread it to others."

"With all due respect, I feel that you are the best candidate to represent the style in the competition..."

"There's no point in competing in the eastern tournament. After all, this is the weakest region in the nation when it comes to swordfighting... The majority of the strongest swordsmen all compete up in the north and west."

Ryugyu spoke the truth. When it came to swordfighting, it was clear as day that the styles in the other parts of the country were levels above those in the east. His retainer, Chiaki who had been constantly persuading him to take part in the eastern tournament stayed silent after his retort as it was the truth that he refused to accept. Deep down, he was afraid that the Takeguchi School would be brought to shame against the highly regarded styles in the other parts of the country.

"Do you fear that our style would be defeated? Have some faith Chiaki. My grandfather created this style to be lethal. To finish the opponent in a single swing."

"N-No young m-master! I do have faith in this style! It's just that-"

"Good. Now observe."

Genjiro who was practicing his moves on the straw built figure stopped and turned as Ryugyu's footsteps approached him. The sound of the underside of his foot, specifically the base of his fingers slightly dragging against the wooden floor and only reverted to a heavy flat footed placement at the end of his steps as he inched closer and closer to the boy. Ryugyu now, having his left leg in front of his right, parallel to each other stood in a stiff position and bent his knees to a 90 degree angle as though he was sitting on air. Maintaining the deep stance, he pointed the wooden sword at Genjiro's forehead, elbows tucked in and shoulder blades pushed forward. Instinctively, Genjiro too took a similar stance. This is the Takeguchi School.

The basis of the style was simple. Putting everything behind a single swing to finish the opponent. Every position taken, every smite thrown and every defensive maneuver was created for the sake of a single hit to kill the enemy. If Fyodor's swordsmanship is like a rapid stream of water that sliced through the rocks then the Takeguchi style is a huge wave that burst through boulders. Ryugyu was a huge man, although his muscles were hidden behind his meaty hands and only visible when he flexed his body, his strength was immense. He spent his entire youth sculpting his physique into the hulking monster he is now in order to perfect the Takeguchi style which relied solely on power. His long, straight hair cascaded down his black kimono, the uniform of the Takeguchi School and his small eyes were calm as though he was able to foresee the future. Unlike the usual swordsmen who were mostly unkempt and did not bother to groom themselves, Ryugyu was clean shaven and looked sharp.

"Throw away that sword and pick the toughest sword in the dojo... I don't want to break that. I'm sure it's valuable to you."

Across the shiny floorboards was a collection of wooden swords stacked above each other, the heavier and denser weapons rested on the higher stands of the wall. As Genjiro grabbed the sword, there was an earthquake that shook his spirit. He was up against one of the greatest fighters in the region. Despite that, he maintained a calm demeanor looking stoic as ever as he approached Ryugyu mirroring a fearless look on his face. He took the signature stance and began to execute the breathing technique that he was taught to maximize the impact of the blow. Every breath taken was felt throughout his body, sensing every bit of oxygen that ran through his blood vessels reaching to the tip of his hands and legs. However, the nervousness in his chest ricocheted around faster and faster as every microsecond flew by. Ryugyu, whose eyes were sharply narrowed towards his was enough to make his will to fight crumble as he put on a false bravado before his master.