Chapter XI

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⚠️❗Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised. (It's nothing out of this world though)❗⚠️

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Y/N's POV

I watched as Jigoro tossed a bokken my way, and I caught it without much enthusiasm. The prospect of another training session was not appealing. I let out a dismissive scoff and simply lay down on my side, intending to enjoy the sun and the day.

But the old man was having none of it. He didn't say a word, just raised his own bokken and brought it down with a sharp swat against my side. I yelped in surprise and pain, clutching my side where the wooden blade stung.

"What the hell, old man?" I protested, glaring up at him.

Jigoro met my gaze. "I'll keep hitting you," he said, "Until you pick up that bokken and defend yourself."

I groaned. Slowly and begrudgingly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and picked up the bokken, ready to face another useless training session.

I swung the bokken with all the strength I could muster, hoping to finally land a hit on him. But, as expected, it's deflected effortlessly, and I found myself once again on the receiving end of his hits.

 "What are we even doing here?" I grumbled. "Sword fighting is simple. There's no big strategy to it, you are just wasting my time, old man."

He grinned, "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Y/N. Sword fighting is not just about swinging a blade. It's about thinking, analyzing, adapting, and acting in the heat of the moment."

I snorted, still not convinced. "Thinking and analyzing? Sounds boring."

The old man's grin widened, and he nodded. "Exactly. And that's why you fail. You don't try, or when you do, you refuse to learn and apply the knowledge you've gained. Until you change that, you'll keep losing to me."

I decided to mix things up and attempt a thrusting attack, hoping to catch him off guard. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like I might have succeeded, but then he performed a stunning new maneuver. With his one leg, he lifted it into the air, stomping down on my bokken and rendering it useless on the ground. Before I could react, he swiftly stepped behind me, his hand chopping at my neck, and though it connected, it lacked the usual bone-crushing force he would apply.

If this had been a real fight I would have been decapitated by now.

Stunned and bewildered, I rubbed my neck, frustration was always present sure, but I couldn't help but wonder. "What the hell was that counter the old man just pulled off?"

He launched a rant I couldn't even understand, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "It's strange, you know. All these Breathing styles are based on enhancing our physical capabilities through the power of our breath. Yet, none of us really understand how our muscles truly work or the dimensions of our bodies. It's only when you become conscious of every muscle, every fiber of your being, that you'll truly achieve Total Concentration."

I blink, baffled by his words. "What are you talking about, old man? Did you forget to take your medicine?"

Jigoro sighed, rolling his eyes at my comment. "Alright, I'll simplify it for you. Thunder Breathing starts from your legs, and its forms are heavily rooted in them. So, focus on that, especially your—"

I interrupted him, still confused. "My what?"

He nodded as if he was imparting some great wisdom. "Your butt."

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