At the entrance to the ancient and solemn meeting room of the Swordsmanship Association Headquarters, two samurai, dressed in the standard armor of the Land of Iron, stood as gatekeepers, one on the left and one on the right.
"Aren't you going to search me first to see if I'm carrying any weapons?"
The two guards' lips twitched at the sight of Isshin, who was holding a sword, carrying a halberd, and with a musket hanging undisguised at his waist.
"Instructor Isshin, please don't joke with us. Hurry inside. The president and the other instructors are all waiting for you."
...…
Inside the Swordsmanship Association Headquarters' meeting room.
The atmosphere was so heavy it felt as if water could be wrung out of it.
On either side of the long table, prominent instructors and masters of various martial arts dojos in Akazonae City sat upright, their eyes downcast and their minds at ease.
At the head of the table, President Soichiro Yagyu's face was as black as the bottom of a pot, his chest heaving violently with anger, and the heavy iron rod was right next to him, as if he was about to smash it on the table at any moment.
"Bang!"
He slammed his large, fan-like hand down hard on the hard wooden table, causing the cups and saucers to jump and the tea to splash everywhere.
"Our Akazonae City!"
Soichiro Yagyu's voice boomed like thunder, echoing throughout the meeting room. His hair and beard stood on end, and his gaze swept across the room like lightning, finally fixing on a certain spot on the lower right: "A remarkable figure has emerged! A reckless, lawless, and violent figure!"
"He turned the southeast region upside down! Lawsuits from various dojos are flying at me like snowflakes! And that's not all, sparring matches are supposed to be about swordsmanship! But what about him?!"
Soichiro Yagyu's voice suddenly rose, filled with an almost absurd indignation: "He actually used a gun! As a swordsman, he pulled out a musket in a fair and square competition!"
"A swordsman! Instead of focusing on honing his swordsmanship and perfecting his own dojo's techniques, he spends all his time scheming about strange and ingenious tricks! Today, he pulls out a musket; tomorrow, is he going to bring a cannon to the dojo for a duel? The day after tomorrow, is he planning to use all sorts of Ninjutsu and Genjutsu?! Huh?!?!"
He grew increasingly agitated as he spoke, stood up, and waved his arms: "In the short time I went out for a meal, I could hear at least nine people discussing which dojo this big shot smashed up again, and which match he fired a gun in yet another time!"
Although the president did not name names directly, everyone present turned their gazes in the same direction without saying a word.
The young swordsman, Isshin, who was sitting at the far right, dressed in a dark swordsman's uniform, was calmly sipping his tea.
Faced with the president's storm of reprimands and the focused gaze of the entire room, Isshin remained as calm as if listening to a weather forecast.
He even had the leisure to slightly turn his head and speak earnestly to the boy sitting next to him, a similarly tall and robust man in well-tailored samurai attire who was trying hard to sit upright but whose eyes couldn't help but wander around: "Tadayoshi, don't learn from your father. Over such small matters, he nags endlessly all day long."
The young man was none other than Tadayoshi Yagyu, the only son of Soichiro Yagyu.
This kid is a real troublemaker. Despite being born into a clan of Master Swordsmen and having a father who is famous throughout the southeast, he has little interest in the clan's traditional staff techniques. Instead, he dreams of becoming a ninja and has even given himself a ninja codename that he thinks is cool, Owl.
When Isshin pointed at him like that, he almost couldn't hold back his laughter. He quickly pursed his lips, and his shoulders twitched suspiciously.
This subtle movement could not escape Soichiro Yagyu's eyes, and his gaze shot over like two bolts of cold lightning.
Tadayoshi Yagyu immediately felt a chill run down his spine and quickly straightened his back, focusing his attention on the scene ahead.
Soichiro Yagyu stared at his son for a long time before slowly shifting his gaze back to Isshin, his tone cold and stern: "Isshin, what are you talking about?"
Unperturbed, Isshin gently placed the teacup back on the table, raised his head, and met Soichiro Yagyu's almost fiery gaze, replying with extreme sincerity, as if he had learned a great deal: "The president speaks wisely!"
Seeing Isshin's completely impervious, carefree attitude, as if everything entered one ear and left the other, a clear vein bulged on Soichiro Yagyu's temple. The fire in his chest surged upward again.
But he couldn't beat him in a fight, and scolding him seemed useless.
Soichiro Yagyu took a deep breath, forcibly transforming his surging anger into a kind of helpless, disappointed admonition.
"Isshin, I know you are warlike and crave to clash with the strong to hone your skills. This is a swordsman's nature. But everything must be done in a proper way and with moderation! Your recklessness and actions of making enemies everywhere may seem enjoyable, but in reality, you are putting yourself in the eye of the storm, attracting countless criticisms and hidden dangers. What benefit will this bring to your long-term training or to the reputation of the Ashina Style?"
At this point, his voice softened a bit: "Now that you are a recognized instructor at Akazonae City and shoulder the responsibility of bringing glory to the city in the next National Swordsmanship Tournament, there is only a year left until the tournament! This is the golden period for you to calm your mind, strengthen your body, and refine your skills! You should put aside those trivial thoughts and devote all your energy to proper swordsmanship training!"
"The National Swordsmanship Tournament is far more significant than the small-scale sparring you did before. At that time, the core students of various dojos, the secret weapons cultivated by each city, and masters hidden in the city and mountains with unique skills will all gather together. The number of masters will be as numerous as carp crossing the river! It is a true stage for fierce competition and a gathering of heroes."
"Heroes?"
Upon hearing that word, Isshin, who had been half-closing his eyes as if drifting elsewhere, suddenly seemed to have some nerve triggered.
He suddenly raised his head, gazing at the vast sky outside the meeting room window, and unconsciously murmured a sigh, tinged with a strange sense of melancholy: "As the saying goes, when the wind rises, the tiger follows; when clouds gather, the dragon comes. Dragons and tigers, heroic figures, standing proud beneath the heavens."
"You insolent brat!!!"
Soichiro Yagyu was taken aback at first, but when he realized that this brat wasn't listening to his well-intentioned plan at all, but instead was rambling on about some nonsensical things, his old face, which had just calmed down, instantly turned from red to black, and then from black to purple.
Check my Patreon for more chapters and novels, Patreon.com/SweetestDeath