Chapter 24

Jiro had spent most of the day in the dojo, practicing on the various training dummies and sparring with anyone who was foolish enough to challenge one of Yuilen’s strongest warriors. Especially when he was still mulling over his punishment for Gakuto, upon his return to the palace.

By the mid-day chime, the oldest member of Yuilen’s Divine Trio had barely broken a sweat, reminding the apprentices why he was referred to as Jiro the Unyielding. His win record had already eclipsed twenty as he stood guarded in the center of the dojo, waiting for someone brave or ignorant enough to challenge him to another one-on-one.

“What, are there no takers?” He said, taking a swig of water before turning to the observers who hadn’t challenged his blade.

“I thought you lot were meant to be the strongest and fiercest that Yuilen’s military have? You can’t tell me all of you are quivering in fear of one frail old man!”

“Aye, I don’t think the man that just felled twenty of Yuilen’s best can claim himself to be frail!” A voice boomed down from the dojo’s second floor observation platform. Kitsuya, the second member of the Divine Trio leaned over the railing at his comrade.

“Most of these men are half my age…” Jiro grinned up at the young guardsmen. “...but not even a quarter of my skill.”

There were a few murmurs, mostly agreeing with that as Kitsuya let out a boisterous laugh before hopping down from the platform. His bare feet landed hard on the dojo’s wood floor, but he merely crouched, looking up at the older man, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

“If you’re still itching for a sparring partner, I’ll give it a go.”

Kitsuya glanced over at one of the youngest recruits and pointed. “You there, boy. Fetch me a pair of the sturdiest practice swords we have.” The boy hurried off as if commanded by the Emperor himself and Jiro raised his brow slightly, surprised to see the newest batch so eager to listen to Kitsuya.

Kitsuya was the most recent addition to the Divine Trio, a sort of prodigy who had merely joined the Imperial Guard three years prior. His build was deceptive, being slender with very little muscle tone, but his strength couldn’t be denied. Jiro had spared with both of his trio mates, Kitsuya and, the currently absent, Takagi, on occasion, usually as a showcase for the new recruits or even a lesson for some of the more seasoned soldiers and, of the two, he hadn’t quite pinned down how to approach fighting Kitsuya.

Unlike Jiro and Takagi, he didn’t seem to be beholden to any recognized fighting school, relying on his deceptive movements to close gaps quickly and swing with heavy strikes with a pair of short swords. Some of the trainees said they thought that the wiry man was secretly two people with how fast he could close in on his opponent when fighting.

That, perhaps, was why he was referred to as Kitsuya the Devious.

Jiro gripped the hilt of his practice sword firmly, before running through a series of stretches to loosen up for their spar. Despite having already bested twenty soldiers, that was hardly enough of a warm-up to prepare him to face his fellow trio mate.

The young recruit brought Kitsuya the requested swords and the man slammed the blades together three times, before giving a grunt of acknowledgement to the boy for a job well done. There was a buzz rising up in the dojo as he took his place across from Jiro and even some of the active guardsmen, out on their daily patrols of the palace grounds, stood at the open doors and windows of the dojo.

Two members of the Divine Trio facing off in a friendly match was the type of event best witnessed in person, after all.

Jiro moved his head from side to side, releasing the tension in his neck before breathing out deeply, both hands gripping his training jian as he stared down Kitsuya. They both took stock of their opponent, almost as if waiting for some shared unseen signal, until a loud thud echoed in the room as Kitsuya lunged at Jiro, both swords raised.

Jiro side-stepped the strike easily enough, but barely had a moment to reposition before Kitsuya was suddenly in his face. A half-hearted parry batted back both heavy swings from the slender man, who took that opportunity to kick off the floor, backing off from the older man.

Jiro maintained his position, his muscles tensing up at his first real challenge of the day. The deceptively built man was a full head taller than Jiro and had the additional reach that came with it and his hidden muscles moved with an elasticity that few opponents of Jiro’s had. Where others had mistaken Kitsuya’s movement for that of two men, Jiro had always likened his movements to that of an octopus.

The lithe dual-blade wielder before him made the slightest twitch of his left leg and Jiro pounced, taking a quick step towards the left, goading Kitsuya to continue. The spindly man took the bait and Jiro side-stepped to the right, bringing his blade up aiming to strike at Kitsuya’s exposed side but the spindly man was able to avoid any contact from Jiro’s blade.

The crowd of soldiers and trainees were fully invested at this point, not even aware that a handful of the servant girls had joined the crowd. The showdown between two of the strongest that Yuilen had to offer steadily intensified, with a cacophony of wood striking wood along with their feet slamming into the wood floor and the constant whirring of their practice blades cutting through the air.

Jiro and Kitsuya’s swords kept clattering against one another, neither giving ground nor landing a clean strike on the other. The oldest member of the trio, the one they called Unyielding, was slowly being outsped and overpowered by the newest trio member.

Yet Jiro didn’t falter, matching the wiry man swing for swing, parry for parry, as they danced around the center of the dojo, showcasing the pinnacle of the Yuilen fighting force for anyone lucky enough to watch. The old master kept his eyes on Kitsuya, knowing that if the lithe man got into his blind spot, their session would be over in a flash.

In his focus, however, he lost his footing and started to slip back, leaving himself wide open for Kitsuya to land a clean blow on his chest. The sound of the two short swords resounding through the air like the predatory fangs of a wild fox biting down on its cornered prey enveloped Jiro, as he resigned himself to losing to the wily young warrior.

The old master loosened up, knowing that would lessen the damage of the heavy impact but the blow never came as the sound of splintering wood rang in the hall. Kitsuya’s short swords had broken into several shards, clattering as they skipped across the dojo’s floor. The wiry young soldier, whose face had been filled with murderous intent, broke into a raucous fit of laughter as he discarded the handles of his weapon.

Jiro, covered in sweat and panting heavily, lay his blade on the ground, about to concede when Kitsuya spoke up. “Wow, old man, you really got me there!”

Jiro’s eyes widened as he saw the young man’s hand extended and took it, rising to his feet. “I thought I might have you this time, but I can’t ever break through your defense without losing my weapon in the process. Excellent show.”

Kitsuya clapped his hand on Jiro’s arm before sliding it down, gripping his elbow firmly, a sign of respect from his village, or so he had claimed. Jiro mirrored the same before the young man released him and turned picking up the broken blades. “Ugh, I gotta be the one to clean this place up.” He groaned as he walked towards the back hall before turning back to Jiro.

“That was a good workout, let’s do it again soon, Jiro!”

Jiro nodded as another of the longest tenured guards walked up to him, carrying his displaced sword.

“Jiro-san, that was a fantastic display for the men!”

Jiro hardly acknowledged the guard as he looked down at his palms, his hands shaking from the exertion. He clenched them tightly as his eyes fell on the retreating Kitsuya’s back, the rage-filled stare from the last strike, fresh in his mind.

“Kitsuya the Devious, eh…?”