After stepping through the Torii gate, Ars thought he would face another challenge related to nature or illusion. However, the scene that greeted him was completely unexpected.
The forest he had just seen and felt had disappeared, and he was now standing on a dark varnished wooden floor that felt cold under his shoes.
He was inside a vast, ancient dojo. The air inside was heavy with silence and the scent of old cedar and long-extinguished incense.
Pale sunlight seeped in through tall shoji paper windows on one side of the wall, illuminating particles of dust dancing lazily in the air. Across the room, on the wall of honor, hung a giant calligraphy with a single character: 空 (*Kū* - Emptiness, Sky).
Yuki, who was in his arms, sniffed the air anxiously. The silence in this place felt more oppressive than the silence in the White Void Room. It was a silence full of anticipation, as if the dojo itself was holding its breath.
Ars's attention was immediately drawn to an intricately carved weapon rack standing tall in the center of the room.
On it were arranged various weapons that would make any gamer's heart race. There was a giant two-handed sword with a black crystal blade that emitted a cold aura.
There was a pair of twin daggers curved like dragon fangs and shining with a silvery light.
There was a spear with a bone handle and an eye that glowed with lightning magic. Each weapon looked like a legendary item, an artifact that could change the course of battle.
"Wow..." Ars hissed. His old instincts as Nael the game conqueror screamed. *Take the strongest one! That crystal sword must have the highest attack rating!*
He stepped closer, his eyes sparkling as he admired the collection of weapons. This must be his reward for passing the first test. But the tower's voice said nothing. There was no notification.
He remembered his new ability. Ars then focused his gaze on the black sword that caught his attention the most.
> [Tenebris, Blade of Eternal Night]
> Quality: Mystical
> Description: A sword forged from the heart of a dead star. Absorbs light and souls.
> Purpose: [Dominate], [Conquer], [Spread Fear]
Ars was a little surprised. *Dominate? Spread Fear?* Those were very aggressive purposes. He shifted his gaze to the twin daggers.
> [Viper's Twin Fangs]
> Quality: Mystical
> Description: Daggers imbued with the essence of shadow snakes. Their attacks are swift, silent, and always deadly.
> Purpose: [Kill Efficiently], [Stab from the Shadows], [Becoming Invisible]
Once again, his goal was about the end result—killing and conquering.
Ars felt suspicious. This was the Arcana Test of The Fool, the Number Zero. The instant raw power felt out of place with the theme of journey and potential. This weapon was like a shortcut, not a beginning.
His gaze swept across the entire rack, past dozens of weapons that looked extraordinary, and stopped at the very bottom, in a corner that was almost invisible.
There, leaning awkwardly, was a simple wooden training sword. A *bokken*. The wood was worn, its color faded in places from being gripped so often, and it had no magical aura whatsoever. It was the most ordinary object in a room full of extraordinary things.
Precisely because of that, it caught his attention. Driven by a hunch, Ars activated [Observer's Insight] on the wooden sword.
> [Nameless Bokken]
> Quality: Common
> Description: A piece of wood shaped like a sword. Used by beginners to practice the basics before they are allowed to touch a real blade.
> Purpose: [Learning], [Understanding], [Forming the Basics]
Ars's heart beat faster. *Learn. Understand. Build Foundations.*
That was it. That was the philosophy of The Fool embodied in a simple piece of wood. It wasn't about the power one possessed, but about the potential one could achieve.
The other weapons on the rack were an end, a peak of power. But this *bokken* was a beginning. A zero.
He had found his answer. This was not a prize shelf; it was a second test. A test of choice.
With newfound confidence, Ars walked past all the gleaming weapons. He knelt and respectfully picked up the worn *bokken*. It felt balanced and solid in his hands.
There was no magical power flowing from it, only the smooth texture and weight of the wood that felt real.
As his fingers gripped the handle of the *bokken*, the silence of the dojo was broken.
From the darkest corner of the room, a figure rose silently. The figure wore a complete set of samurai armor made of black lacquered wood and dull steel plates bound with dark blue silk straps.
His helmet, his *kabuto*, covered his entire face, leaving only thick darkness behind it. No light, no eyes, only emptiness. At its waist was tucked a *bokken* identical to Ars's.
It was an automaton, similar to the Garden Guard, but its design was far more elegant, more deadly.
Ars directed [Observer's Insight] at it.
> Name: Kenshi Bisu (The Silent Swordsman)
> Race: Ancient Construct (Automaton)
> Title: Form Tester
> Status: Test Mode Active
> Purpose: [Test Intent], [Teach Form], [Assess Potential]
The automaton made no hostile sounds. It simply walked slowly to the center of the dojo, each step barely audible on the wooden floorboards.
It stopped about ten meters from Ars, then with fluid, precise movements, drew its *bokken* and took a low guard stance.
The ancient tower's voice echoed in Ars's mind again, this time short and concise.
"You have chosen your tool. Now, prove your worth. Mirror its form. Understand its path."
Ars swallowed hard. "Mirror its form?" He had never held a sword in his life, let alone studied the art of swordsmanship.
The Silent Kenshi did not wait. He began to move.
It wasn't an attack. It was a dance. A Kata (型)—a series of sword art movements. The movements were slow at first, each swing, each step, each turn of the body performed with hypnotic grace.
His *bokken* sliced through the air with absolute precision, stopping an inch from the floor, then flowing into the next movement as if it were an extension of his arm.
Ars tried to imitate him. He raised his *bokken*, attempting to copy the first stance. It felt stiff and awkward. As Kenshi Bisu swung his sword in a graceful horizontal arc, Ars tried to follow, but he lost his balance and nearly fell.
When he made a mistake, Kenshi Bisu stopped. In the blink of an eye, faster than Ars could process, the automaton was in front of him.
There was a sharp *WHAP!* as the Kenshi's *bokken* landed hard on his shin.
A sharp, surprising pain shot through Ars's leg, causing him to scream and fall to the floor, dropping his wooden sword.
The pain was real, but strangely, when he looked at his leg, there were no bruises, no wounds. The pain was more like a shock signal from the system, a penalty for failure.
The Kenshi Bisu was back in its original position, silent and waiting.
"Damn..." Ars groaned, picking up his *bokken* and forcing himself to stand.
"Okay... okay, I get it. I have to do it perfectly."
The automaton started the same *kata* from the beginning, again at a slow and measured pace.
This time, Ars tried harder. He focused all his attention, trying to memorize every movement, every angle of the blade, every shift of weight.
He managed to get through the first three movements, albeit stiffly. But on the fourth movement, a straight thrust that required precise hip rotation, he made a mistake again. His wrist was slightly tilted.
*WHAP!*
This time, the blow landed on his ribs, knocking the wind out of him and sending him crashing back down. Again, the pain was searing but left no mark.
This torture continued. The automaton would begin its *kata*. Ars would try to imitate it. He would make a mistake. He would be struck and fall. He would rise, and the cycle would repeat.
After dozens of attempts, his body ached even though he wasn't injured, and his frustration had reached boiling point.
"How can I possibly do this?!" he shouted at the silent dojo.
"I'm not a swordsman! This isn't fair! There must be a trick, a pattern, like a boss in a game!"