Chapter 43: Roy's Limit x Silva's Return
To be a servant of the Zoldyck family is a source of pride.
To be a Zoldyck is an even greater one.
Once, Zeno had also considered himself a proud man, and that had remained true from the past to the present.
But looking at the boy before him—who, aside from his hair color, was practically a mirror image of his younger self—he had to admit he had been far too modest.
"Heh heh heh..." Zeno stared intently at Roy, his voice a low chuckle. "Freedom... that is a very expensive thing."
"Most people can only dream of it," he continued. "I hope you get what you wish for."
"I will do my best."
"Is that so?"
Zeno gave him a deep, meaningful look.
"Your best isn't enough. You have to be willing to die for it."
With that said, he clasped his hands behind his back and glided past him. His toes never seemed to touch the ground. His figure flickered... once... twice... as if he were teleporting, and he quickly vanished from the long corridor.
Roy stood rooted to the spot, silently watching for a moment as the setting sun draped over him. Then, he lifted his foot. In the same manner, he flickered... once... twice... 'gliding' toward his bedroom in the opposite direction.
The path to the pinnacle begins with the mastery of 'Shadow Step'.
***
"Seventeen thousand, eight hundred and twelve..."
"Seventeen thousand, eight hundred and thirteen..."
"Hey, Sabito... I can't keep count anymore..."
In the snowy landscape of Roy's Gate of Cognition, Makomo complained, sticking her little tongue out. Beneath the birch tree, the boy swinging his sword down again and again was like a tireless machine, shattering her perception of what was possible with each strike.
"Then don't force yourself." Sabito understood. Ghosts weren't human; they had no physical form, so they couldn't exactly hold a pen to keep a record. He understood Makomo's feelings. Forget swinging a sword over ten thousand times; just counting that high was a true test of will and concentration for any normal person.
The only one to blame was that guy, Eiichiro. He was just too unnatural.
"No, I have to keep going! We're almost at twenty thousand!" The little girl patted her cheeks, cheering herself on.
Since she was determined to persevere, Sabito tactfully refrained from persuading her otherwise. After all, compared to those other spirits like Shinsuke and Fukuda, who had long since grown numb, Makomo already possessed incredible willpower.
"Eighteen thousand, eight hundred and eighty-eight..."
"Nineteen thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine..."
"Twenty thousand!"
The blade sank into the wooden post, splitting it cleanly in two. The cut surface was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting Roy's slightly steaming face and giving him an extraordinary, martial air.
Six days. From ten thousand to twenty thousand. Roy had achieved the small goal he had set for himself, completing the 'Ten Thousand Swings' exercise twice in a single day.
And this still wasn't his limit.
"Add another two thousand tomorrow."
Sakonji Urokodaki emerged from the dense woods, saying the same thing to Roy as he had for the past several days.
The old man's expression was hidden beneath his tengu mask, but Sabito and Makomo, who had spent their days with him since childhood, could faintly sense the truth from the way he clenched his fists behind his back. His heart was not as calm as he appeared.
"Master wants to see where Eiichiro's limit is," Makomo whispered.
"Don't you?"
"I do... but I won't be able to count any higher..." Makomo whined at Sabito.
Sabito just smiled and shook his head. This time, the thought of Giyu didn't cross his mind. Three thousand swings at his peak couldn't be compared to twenty thousand swings from someone who hadn't even reached their limit yet.
Sabito was almost certain: once a guy like Eiichiro was unleashed upon the world, he would shock everyone, be it demon or Demon Slayer.
*Perhaps that's what Master is hoping for, too...*
Sabito thought, glancing silently at Sakonji Urokodaki. The old Water Hashira tossed out a simple "Time to eat," and turned to leave. His back, as if unable to withstand the erosion of time, showed the faint signs of a stoop.
[Notification: Swordsmanship +17]
Another night passed. With the chime of the wooden grandfather clock in the corner, Roy, nearly drained of all energy, had a quick dinner with Sakonji Urokodaki before climbing into his warm bed.
He slept until dawn. When he opened his eyes again, he was back on Kukuroo Mountain, and felt that familiar wave of apathy—that feeling of not being interested in anything.
Fortunately, after a few days of adjusting, he had learned to laze in bed for a while longer, waiting until the lethargy completely faded before getting up for his run.
Thanks to his mastery of 'Shadow Step', Roy's speed had become faster and faster. Even when he deliberately controlled his pace, he still managed to pass the old castle and the butlers' quarters, arriving at the Testing Gate at the foot of the mountain before the red sun breached the horizon.
"Good morning, Young Master." Zebro saw him from a distance, removing his hat and giving him a bow.
Roy nodded at him. His gaze went past the man's high, receding hairline, and just as he glanced out, he heard a tremendous BOOM! The Testing Gate, known to the outside world as the 'Gates of Hades', was pushed open through the third gate, and a figure walked out.
"Good morning, Young Master Illumi." Zebro, who had just put his hat back on, took it off again.
Illumi walked straight past him, a human head clutched in his hand. With a casual toss, he threw it. Mike, drawn by the scent, rushed over and swallowed the head in a single gulp.
"Barely a snack..." Mike shot Illumi a dissatisfied glare, as if in complaint. It had arrived in a flurry of motion and left full of disappointment.
Illumi paid it no mind, treating its resentful gaze as if it were air. His eyes locked onto Roy, who had already turned back. "As of today," Illumi said, "I also have eighty-one wins."
Evidently, the head he had just fed to Mike must have belonged to the Emitter who had blocked his progress at the Heavens Arena.
A pity...
"It's not a winning streak."
Roy gave him a faint glance, kindly reminding him of that fact. Then, with another step, he flew up the mountain.
A vein bulged on Illumi's forehead. He stared daggers at Roy's retreating back and shouted, "You just wait!"
His hands quietly clenched into fists.
"Heh..." The only response was Roy's soft chuckle and his rapidly vanishing figure.
*Whether you come for me or not, I'll be right here. We live under the same roof, what's this nonsense about 'waiting'? If you've got the guts, then bring it on.*
As Roy took off, his earrings trailed behind him. He arrived back at his bedroom two minutes faster than expected. After showering, he sat down at the dining table, waiting for Gotoh to serve his meal.
Today's sandwiches were cheese-flavored.
He flipped through the notes from his great-grandfather while listening to Gotoh report on the day's training schedule. It was only when he heard Gotoh use the title 'the Master' that he closed the book and looked up.
"The Master called. He will be home tonight and wishes to test you first thing tomorrow morning, Young Master."
The young butler pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his voice laced with concern. "Therefore, I suggest that you cancel today's training schedule to rest and conserve your strength for the day."
*The training schedule was set in stone. Unless Silva himself said otherwise, who would dare cancel it?*
Roy finished his sandwich, pulled out a napkin, and wiped his mouth deliberately. "That won't be necessary. Tell Luke to wait for me in the training room. It's not a given that he'll be able to knock me out with electricity today."
As he spoke, he glanced at his system panel.
[Physique: 12.05 → 13.05]
After several days of practicing the Sun Breathing, he had successfully raised it by one full point. That was equivalent to the constitution of a whole other ordinary person.
He figured he could endure for much longer now.