Leaving the residence filled with the scent of medicine and blooming wisteria, the air felt lighter but strangely tense. Their audience with Kagaya Ubuyashiki had ended on a delicate note, one that still lingered in Shoichi's chest.
Shoichi could no longer hold it in.
"Hey, Ryo! What was with that attitude back there?" His voice cracked between disbelief and panic. "That was the Master! You almost made me faint from fear!"
He replayed Ryo's casual remark to Ubuyashiki and shivered.
Ryo did not even look at him. He stretched lazily, voice soft and honest. "I just told the truth."
Shoichi clutched his head. "That is the problem!"
Before Ryo could reply, they returned to their home at Mount Sagiri. The crisp mountain wind carried the familiar rhythm of wooden swords striking logs. Rika stopped practicing the moment she spotted the two boys and sprinted straight toward them.
Shoichi smiled proudly, arms wide open. "Welcome your beloved brother home!"
Rika ran right past him.
And dove into Ryo's arms.
Shoichi froze in place, eyes popping so wide they nearly fell out of his skull.
His face screamed one sentence:
When did my family get stolen?!
Rika looked up at Ryo with a bright, pure smile.
"Welcome back, Ryo."
Ryo nodded and gently ruffled her hair. That had become their unspoken ritual ever since she began delivering medicine to him six months ago. They had trained together, struggled together, and grown closer without Shoichi ever noticing.
Watching it now, Shoichi's soul shattered.
"Hey! I am your real brother! Your actual brother!"
Rika puffed her cheeks proudly. "Exactly. You are strong and stubborn. Of course you came back alive. It is obvious."
Shoichi's jaw dropped. "Huh?!"
She darted behind Ryo before Shoichi could grab her.
"Brother is annoying!"
Shoichi chased her in frantic circles. "Get back here and say that again!"
Their bickering drew the attention of Urokodaki, who approached slowly, his mask calm as ever.
Ryo stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
"Welcome home," Urokodaki said simply, placing a hand on Ryo's shoulder. There was warmth in that brief touch. Approval. Relief.
Life returned to its normal pace. Training in the morning, resting in the afternoon, healing between sword swings. Ryo pushed himself just enough to maintain progress without collapsing. Shoichi, on the other hand, had begun a secret rivalry.
Ryo ran fifty laps, so Shoichi ran sixty.
Ryo swung his blade one hundred times, Shoichi swung his two hundred.
Ryo watched him sweat bullets every day and thought:
Work hard if you want. I will enjoy my well-earned recovery.
He had no interest in getting dragged into a competition he never agreed to.
In the evening, Rika always brought a towel to help Ryo wipe away the sweat. Each time she did, Shoichi peered out from some dark corner, clenching his jaw in torment.
He looked like a jealous gremlin plotting murder.
Meanwhile, Ryo opened his System screen, eager to spend the lifespan he earned.
One whole year of life added. Time to enjoy some upgrades.
Then he checked the costs.
Thunderclap and Flash mastery required nearly twenty two years of lifespan.
Six Fold required five years.
Godspeed demanded ten entire years.
That left seven meaningless years he could not even invest yet.
It felt like a scam.
Ryo screamed internally. This System was daylight robbery.
"Come out here, you thief of time!"
[You woke up cursed today, huh? Yelling at dawn like a rooster with rabies]
Ryo snapped. "Explain why Thunderclap and Flash requires twenty two years, yet I still have stray lifespan leftover!"
[You have the nerve to complain? You dumped everything in like some gambler with a death wish]
[Those remaining years are the foundation needed for Flame and Thunder God, the seventh form. Once First Form is maxed out, you unlock it automatically]
Ryo's anger slowly melted into joy.
The System smirked, if a System could smirk.
[Go ahead. Keep screaming]
"Ahem… I admit I may have spoken a bit loudly."
Thirteen days after the Final Selection, footsteps echoed at the gate.
Swordsmith Village had come.
A tall man entered, wearing the signature fire-shaped mask of a swordsmith. Strange metal canisters clinked from his hat with every movement. The moment his eyes fell on Ryo, the tea spout on his mask hissed hot steam.
He vanished.
Ryo flinched as a shadow appeared directly in front of him, finger pressing into his forehead with enough speed to leave afterimages.
"You! Yes, you! What did you do to your sword?! How could you break it?! Do you have any idea how much care goes into forging a blade?!"
Haganezuka raged like a volcano erupting through his mask.
Ryo blinked.
So this was what Tanjiro went through.
Shoichi snorted with suppressed laughter. Rika rushed forward to peel the furious smith away.
Haganezuka stormed into the house with Urokodaki to deliver the new blades. Shoichi could not wait. He tore open the cloth and unsheathed his sword.
A deep gold aura burst forth from the steel, like lightning trapped in metal.
Shoichi's eyes widened with wonder.
Haganezuka's steam spout shot twin jets. "Beautiful! Magnificent! Look at that color! My craftsmanship is a divine gift!"
He punched Urokodaki's shoulder with excitement. The old master endured it silently, but even he could not hide the pride in his voice.
Shoichi twirled the sword, radiating joy.
"Ryo! Come on! Draw yours!"
Rika nudged Ryo's sleeve, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Ryo exhaled softly and pulled his blade free.
The low hum of the sword was deeper than thunder. It resonated like a voice from the bottom of a lake.
No golden sparks.
No roaring lightning.
The color shifted slowly, settling into a smooth, luminescent white.
It was not the icy white of snow, nor the cold glow of moonlight. It was soft, like polished jade, pure and quietly radiant.
"White…?" Haganezuka whispered.
He stepped closer, nearly pressing his mask to the blade.
"Impossible. I have never seen such a pure white. White blades represent mist users or rare hybrids. Why would a thunder swordsman…?"
Ryo traced a finger along the flat of the sword. It was cool, like glass, but a faint pulse met his touch. A bond. A heartbeat.
It felt right.
This blade reflected the struggle that shaped him:
Not the fury of storming lightning.
Not the blazing hunger of fire.
But a white flame forged by burning away his lifespan in exchange for survival.
"I like it," Ryo said quietly, sliding the blade back into its sheath. "Thank you, Haganezuka."
The smith froze.
Then he grabbed both boys by the necks like captured kittens.
"You two listen here. This sword is your partner. Your second life. If you break it again like you did on Mount Fujikasane, I swear I will throw you both into my forge. Understood?"
Shoichi saluted with terror. "Absolutely understood sir. I promise I will treat it like treasure."
Ryo nodded calmly.
Haganezuka huffed, satisfied enough to storm away.
Rika skipped to Ryo's side and pointed her chin in triumph.
"Ryo's white blade is the prettiest. Even better than Shoichi's flashy gold."
Direct hit.
Shoichi's pride took critical damage.
"Huh? No it is not!"
"It is."
"No it is not!"
"It is."
Their bickering continued until a blue feathered shadow swooped overhead.
A Kasugai Crow landed nearby and let out a sharp cry.
"Caw! Ryo Anzai. Rank Mizunoto. Emergency directive. A man eating demon has appeared in Tokyo at Mount Hinode!"
Ryo straightened, hand on his white sword.
His real mission had finally begun.