The boy's friend couldn't watch anymore and tried to mediate. The man raised his hand and punched, cursing, "What kind of 'humanity's strongest' are you? If you abduct my son again, I'll tear down your Hunter Association!"
Fortunately, the boy's friend had means—flashing aside to avoid, helplessly abandoning him, and fleeing.
More years passed. The boy grew into a man, and the man visibly aged. He led the boy's child, teaching him how to water the willow tree, just as he'd once taught the boy. Only this time, when the butler rushed in reporting that the boy had defected mid-mission to the Dark Continent, the man was silent for a long while, sighing heavily.
He'd understood early on—when a person grows until even the world can't contain him, he'll ultimately leap beyond the world toward that forbidden land. Just like himself back then, departing with full confidence, returning covered in wounds.
"Father, I have no regrets." The boy was injured more severely than imagined. He left his life in the Dark Continent, bringing home dragons, forbidden objects, and curses.
Many more years passed, so long the man somewhat forgot. He didn't know when his hair went bald. At dusk, he often watched the boy's grandson lead his son to water the willow tree, lost in thought.
The scene shattered like broken mirror fragments.
Roy's drooping head suddenly jerked up. He reached out to twist a willow branch hanging before his eyes, feeling disoriented.
"Are you telling me you're also my family?"
The willow branch swayed, shading him from a scorching ray of sunlight. Roy vaguely grasped something, murmuring, "That's right—what witnesses history needn't be people, but can also be a tree, a stubborn stone, a great river, or a vast ocean. People themselves belong to nature and are part of nature's evolution. How can we speak of merging with nature? It's merely empathy."
The aura naturally dispersing from his body surface suddenly seemed to receive a command and was forced back into Roy's body. The young man closed all his aura nodes and examined himself. His five senses, enhanced by the aura's lingering effects, had grown sharper.
Pricking up his ears, he could hear crickets hidden in the grass. His nostrils twitched—he could smell the faint coffee scent remaining on his clothes. He could see farther, feel deeper. In an instant, his intuition flared. He looked up toward the second floor—a tall man leaned against the bedroom's huge floor-to-ceiling window, arms crossed over his chest, looking down at him.
"Father." Roy suddenly smiled, remembering the earlier scene of Zeno holding young Silva to pee by the willow tree. His mental pressure instantly dissipated.
'Just ten days to master Zetsu. The eldest young master is even more outstanding than the master imagined.' Tsubone attended Silva's side, reporting intelligence on the target. She also noticed Roy in the garden below—he seemed to "vanish" right before her eyes. She was completely unable to detect any aura scent, indicating he had clearly reached the "merging with nature" realm.
"Congratulations, master." Tsubone bowed.
The Zoldyck family's "mediocre" eldest son had finally, since opening his aura nodes, demonstrated the talent he should have shown all along. One could only imagine—when the mistress delivered a silver-haired heir, to what degree would that talent reach?
With this thought, Tsubone respectfully reminded Silva, "The mistress asked me to inform the master that her fertile period has begun."
"No time." Silva spoke abruptly, forcefully cutting Tsubone off. This assassination target was on the Azian Continent. Flying there and back by airship would take at least ten days. Whether he could return in time to test Roy remained uncertain. He simply waved his hand, dismissing Tsubone.
'It can't be too frequent. Must maintain regularity; otherwise sperm quality decreases, making conception difficult.' Tsubone silently organized consoling words for Kikyo in her mind. But thinking of the mistress's crazed state gave her tremendous headaches. She could only take things one step at a time. After all, once the master boarded the airship, she couldn't possibly chase after him.
The old butler closed the bedroom door and stood silently in the corridor for a moment. She watched as Roy dusted off his pants and stood up, then signaled for Gotoh to bring Yukigakure. With heavy steps, Tsubone headed toward the castle's back garden—where Kikyo was leisurely drinking afternoon tea, deliberately adding fertility supplements that made her unbearably hot.
"Young master, your sword." At 5 PM, Gotoh brought Yukigakure and presented it to Roy.
Roy savored the earlier sensation, maintaining his Zetsu state throughout. Before Gotoh had even approached the training room, Roy had already sensed his location through the aura dispersed across his body surface. He reached out and seized Yukigakure, then drew the blade.
The cicada-wing-thin blade caught the sunlight, creating a dazzling flash that made Gotoh instinctively cover his eyes.
"When I'm holding a sword, don't stand in front of me."
"Yes." Gotoh tactfully retreated to the corner.
Roy gripped the sword with both hands, his body leaning slightly forward with his feet in a bow-step stance. He closed his eyes, meditating for five seconds. When he reopened them, he suddenly inhaled—swinging Yukigakure in one diagonal slash.
"Sun Breathing, First Form: Dance!"
"Concentrated!" Indeed, it felt different now. A sharp flash of blade light cut through the air. Roy's gaze flickered. Without reducing his sword's momentum, he followed through with an upward lift.
"Sun Breathing, Second Form: Clear Blue Sky!"
"Not concentrated!" His brow furrowed. His right foot stomped the ground as he swung in a backhanded arc.
"Sun Breathing, Third Form: Raging Sun!"
"Concentrated!" Then came the Fourth Form: Fire Wheel, Fifth Form: Setting Sun Transformation, and Sixth Form: Solar Heat Haze. Until the final strike—Sun Breathing, Twelfth Form: Flame Dance—scraped the wall, forming a scorch mark.
Roy sheathed his sword and stood, exhaling deeply. He checked the status panel again. Notification: [Constitution +0.1].
Compared to his earlier unfocused practice sessions that only gained +0.05 each time, he could now occasionally grasp the opportunity to enter the [Total Concentration Breathing—Constant] state.
[Total Concentration Breathing—Constant]: Uninterrupted breathing technique practice while walking, sitting, or lying down—even during sleep, the body escapes conscious restraint and continuously maintains the breathing technique state.
'This is the benefit of proper guidance.' Roy suddenly thought of Kastro—the young man who had inherited techniques from the "Internal School" and relied on his exceptional fighting talent to create "Tiger Bite Fist." He seemed to have been inquiring about Roy recently.
"That's right. News came from Heaven's Arena that Kastro has already challenged the young master to a rematch." Gotoh adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.