The boy's friend couldn't stand it anymore and tried to intervene, only to be punched aside by the man. The man cursed furiously, "What crap about being the strongest human! If you keep luring my son, I'll raze your whole Hunter Association!"
Fortunately, the boy's friend had some skills of his own. He dodged in a flash and, unable to help, fled in a panic...
Years passed. The boy grew into a man, and the older man visibly aged. He now held the boy's child by the hand, teaching him how to water a willow tree—just like he once taught the boy. But this time...
The butler rushed over in a panic to report: the boy had defected mid-mission and fled to the Dark Continent.
The man remained silent for a long while before letting out a heavy sigh...
He had known deep down from the beginning. When someone grows so powerful that the world can no longer contain them, they will inevitably break free—and head for that forbidden land.
Just like he did in the past. He too had left full of confidence... and returned covered in scars...
"Father, I have no regrets."
The boy's injuries were worse than expected. He had left his life behind on the Dark Continent, bringing back dragons, cursed relics, and taboos to the family...
More years passed—so many that the man lost track. He couldn't remember when his hair started falling out. At dusk, he would often stare blankly at the boy's grandson, watching him teach his own son to water the willow tree...
"Pop~"
The scene shattered like glass, breaking into countless fragments.
Roy jolted awake with his head hanging low, reaching out to pluck a hanging willow branch that brushed against his eyelids, his heart filled with a strange emptiness...
"Are you trying to tell me... you're part of my family too?"
The branch swayed, shading him from a beam of scorching sunlight. Roy felt something stir inside him and muttered softly:
"That's right. Those who witness history aren't always people. It could be a tree, a stubborn rock, a great river... or the endless sea..."
"Humans themselves are part of nature—an evolution of it. So why speak of 'returning to nature' as if it's something separate?"
"It's all about empathy... that's all."
"Hummm..."
The aura that had been naturally seeping from his body suddenly seemed to receive a command and was forcibly drawn back into Roy's body by the pull of nature.
The boy closed all his aura nodes, examining his condition. With the aid of aura, his five senses were enhanced—
He perked up his ears and could hear crickets chirping in the grass...
His nostrils flared, picking up a faint trace of coffee lingering on his clothes...
His vision sharpened, and his senses deepened. Then, in an instant of intuition, he looked toward the second floor—
A tall man stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the bedroom, arms crossed, silently watching him from above...
"Father."
Roy broke into a sudden smile amidst the silence. He recalled the scene from earlier—Zeno helping a young Silva pee under the willow tree—and the pressure in his heart vanished completely...
『Just ten days, and he's already mastered Zetsu... The young master has exceeded the old master's expectations.』
Zebonien, who served by Silva's side, was reporting on the target's progress. She had also noticed Roy in the garden. It was as if he had "vanished" before her eyes—there was no trace of aura at all. He had clearly reached a state of "oneness with nature."
"Congratulations, Master," Zebonien said, bowing respectfully.
The seemingly "mediocre" eldest son of the Zoldyck family had finally begun to display the talent he was always meant to show after opening his aura nodes.
And one could imagine—once the madam gave birth to a white-haired heir, how terrifying their talent might be...
Thinking of this, Zebonien respectfully reminded Silva, "The Madam asked me to inform you... her period is over."
"No time," Silva cut in coldly before she could finish.
The assassination target was on the Eijen continent. Taking the airship there and back would take at least ten days. Whether he could return in time to test Roy remained uncertain.
Silva waved her off.
『Can't do it too frequently... Must follow a rhythm... Otherwise, the quality of the J-cells will decline, and it'll be harder to conceive...』
Zebonien quietly rehearsed ways to comfort Kikyo in her mind—but the moment she pictured that woman's deranged expression, her head began to throb. In the end, she could only comfort herself:
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
After all, once the Master boards the airship, it's not like she can chase after him...
The old butler closed the bedroom door behind him and stood silently in the hallway for a while, watching as Roy patted the dust from his backside and got up from the ground. He called Wutong to bring him his Yukizō and, with heavy steps, headed toward the manor's rear garden...
There, Kikyo was leisurely enjoying her afternoon tea—with extra tonic herbs added—leaving her feeling hot and flustered...
...
"Young Master, your sword."
At 5:00 p.m., Wutong brought over Yukizō and presented it to Roy.
Still savoring the sensation from earlier, Roy maintained his state of Zetsu. Before Wutong even entered the training hall, Roy had already sensed him through the faint aura surrounding his own body.
He reached out and snatched the Yukizō from midair.
He drew the sword in one smooth motion.
"Clang—"
The blade, thin as a cicada's wing, caught the sunlight and flashed a dazzling beam, forcing Wutong to instinctively shield his eyes.
"When I have my sword drawn, don't stand in front of me."
"Yes, sir."
Wutong wisely retreated to a corner.
Roy gripped the sword with both hands, body leaning slightly forward. His legs staggered into a bow stance. He closed his eyes and meditated for five seconds. When he opened them again, he took a sharp breath—
With a diagonal slash of the Yukizō...
"Sun Breathing: First Form – Dance!"
"Focused!"
Yes... it felt different.
The sharp glint of the blade flashed through the air. Roy's eyes sparkled. Without pause, he followed up with an upward slash—
"Sun Breathing: Second Form – Clear Blue Sky!"
"Unfocused!"
He frowned, stomped his right foot, reversed the blade, and swept in a circular arc—
"Sun Breathing: Third Form – Raging Sun Mirror!"
"Focused!"
Then came...
"Fourth Form – Burning Bones, Summer Sun"
"Fifth Form – Setting Sun Transformation"
"Sixth Form – Solar Heat Haze Thrust"
...
Until the final slash—"Twelfth Form – Flame Dance of the Sun Halo Dragon"—scorched a blazing mark along the wall.
Roy sheathed the blade and stood tall, letting out a long breath.
He glanced again at the interface.
[Physique +0.1]
Compared to his previous blind training, which only ever gave +0.05 at best, he had finally begun to occasionally grasp the sensation of entering the state of Total Concentration – Constant.
Total Concentration – Constant: Continuous breathing practice while walking, sitting, lying down—even while asleep, the body remains in a state of maintained breathing technique.
『That's the difference between having a teacher and training alone.』
Roy suddenly thought of Douro the Stone Fist—a young martial artist with unparalleled talent, who inherited the "Internal School" and created his own "Tiger Fang Fist." Lately, it seemed he'd been asking around about Roy.
"Indeed. News from Heavens Arena says Douro the Stone Fist has officially challenged you to a rematch."
Wutong adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses as he spoke.