With a clear idea in mind, Kuro Tsukasa walked toward the group of kids still engrossed in their play.
"Ahem."
"Sorry to interrupt—hello there."
He stopped a few steps away and cleared his throat gently, lowering his voice so he wouldn't startle them.
The children immediately froze mid-swing, four pairs of curious eyes locking onto the unfamiliar older boy.
"Who are you? What do you want with us?"
One of the older boys stepped forward, showing more boldness than the others, his eyes wary but not fearful.
Tsukasa crouched slightly, meeting the boy at eye level with a calm, friendly demeanor.
"I was just passing by and saw you all playing. Got a little curious."
"Would it be alright if I borrowed one of your wooden swords? Just for a moment—I'll return it right away."
"Be careful with it!"
The bold boy hesitated for a moment, then seeing Tsukasa's gentle expression, cautiously held out his prized weapon with a warning.
"Thank you. And here—this is for you all."
Instead of taking the sword immediately, Tsukasa placed a wrapped parcel of moon plums in front of the boy.
Even though the fruit was sealed tight in oiled paper, its fragrance still lingered in the air.Earlier, when he'd knelt down, he had noticed the boy steal a glance and instinctively swallow.
Generosity should be answered with the same.He could always buy more sweets—but this wooden sword was what truly mattered right now.
"Really!?"
"Of course."
The boy's eyes sparkled in disbelief. Only after Tsukasa gave a firm nod did he hand over the snack, pushing the wooden sword forward as if afraid Tsukasa might change his mind.
Only then did Tsukasa finally accept the weapon.
His first impression: extremely light. Even lighter than he expected.
He applied a touch of pressure with his fingers—he could feel how soft the grain was. Likely something low-density, like paulownia or cedar.
He casually spun it once through the air. The sound it made cutting wind was thin and brief, completely lacking weight.
Just that simple movement made the sword's shortcomings immediately obvious.Too light. Too flimsy.
He had a feeling if he swung with even a fraction more force, the blade would snap mid-air.
Good for children to play with.Useless for him—even for basic training.
His gaze swept across the kids, now sitting and excitedly tasting their moon plums.He waited until they each had one in their mouths before speaking again.
"I'm done. Here, your sword."
The bold boy clutched his parcel tightly as he walked back, nervous, hesitant to take the sword back immediately.
"No worries," Tsukasa reassured him gently. "That gift's yours—I'm not taking it back."
"This wooden sword is quite something. Did someone in your family make it?"
The boy relaxed and took the sword back, his expression brightening.
"My dad! He… used to do some carpentry, I think…"
He frowned a little, clearly trying to recall something his father had told him.
"I see. Do you think you could take me to him? I'd like to ask for a favor."
The boy's eyes lit up and he nodded earnestly.
"Dad should be home! I'll take you—it's super close!"
He tucked the sword under one arm and rewrapped the moon plums with great care, holding them close like a treasure.
"This way, big bro!"
He turned and trotted ahead protectively cradling the bundle, occasionally glancing back to check that Tsukasa was following.
The other three kids followed in a giggling swarm behind him.
They barely walked a hundred paces before arriving at a small house with rough cloth hung out to dry.Beside the building stood a makeshift woodworking shed, with tools and timber scattered across the ground.
"Dad! Someone's here to see you!"
The boy called out at full volume from the yard.
A man in his early forties stepped out from the house—his expression was calm, his work clothes rough-spun and stained with sawdust.He looked surprised at the unfamiliar young man surrounded by kids.
"Looking for me?"
He approached directly, voice gravelly and blunt.
"I'd like to ask you to make a wooden sword."
Tsukasa met his gaze without hesitation.
"A wooden sword?"
The man raised a brow, his tone a little puzzled.
"There are other woodworkers in the area. Why me?"
He eyed Tsukasa's pale, uncalloused hands—clearly not someone with combat experience.The request struck him as odd.
"Being able to make something and knowing how to make it properly are two different things."
Tsukasa's tone remained calm.
If all he wanted was a chunk of wood shaped like a sword, he could get that anywhere.
"But to make a proper one—you need to understand how the curve affects cutting momentum, how to balance the spine thickness with the grain's flexibility."
"Most important of all… the center of gravity must be perfect."
He paused, then raised two fingers and mimed a downward slash through the air.
"A wooden sword with bad balance is worse than a stick. You swing and it pulls off center."
"If it's for real training, the maker needs experience."
"Hah! Well said!"
"You in a style, then?"
The carpenter's eyes lit up. He was no longer skeptical—he was excited.
Every martial school had different requirements—length, curvature, blade shape.Only someone serious would talk like this.
To him, a wooden sword wasn't a toy.Even if it wasn't forged from steel, it should still carry the spirit of a weapon.
"Yeah. Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu. It's a one-disciple school—you've probably never heard of it."
"Standard balance and build will do."
Tsukasa kept a straight face.
He wasn't lying. He'd really practiced Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu – Secret Technique: Amakakeru Ryū no Hirameki.
Of course, back then his version looked more like a tangled mess of limbs than any sort of divine strike.
But now, with his new body and growing spiritual energy, even a single blow would be enough to seriously threaten any ordinary soul.