To be a servant of the Zoldyck family is to feel pride. To be a Zoldyck is to feel even greater pride.
Once upon a time, Zeno also considered himself a proud person and had always been so. But looking at the young man before him, who, except for hair color, was practically his younger self reborn, he had to admit—he'd been too modest.
Zeno stared intently at Roy, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Freedom... that's an extremely expensive thing. Most people dream of it but cannot obtain it. I hope you achieve your wish."
"I'll do my best."
"Is that so?" Zeno looked at him deeply. "Doing your best isn't enough. You must be willing to die for it."
With that, he floated past with hands behind his back. His toes seemed not to touch the ground. His figure blurred and reappeared down the corridor, like teleportation, quickly disappearing from sight.
Roy stood in place, bathed in sunset, silently watching for a while. Then he moved with similar speed in bursts, heading toward his bedroom in the opposite direction.
***
Reaching the summit begins with mastering Shadow Step.
"Seventeen thousand eight hundred twelve, seventeen thousand eight hundred thirteen. Hey, Sabito, I can't count anymore."
In the snow country, Roy's cognitive world, Makomo stuck out her little tongue complaining. The young man below the birch tree, striking down blade after blade without rest, seemed like a tireless machine, repeatedly shattering her understanding.
"Then don't force yourself." Ghosts weren't people, lacked physical form, couldn't possibly hold a pen to record.
Sabito understood Makomo's feelings. Forget swinging a sword over ten thousand times—even counting to over ten thousand was a test of will and concentration for ordinary people. Could only blame that Eiichiro guy for being so unreasonable.
"No, I'll keep going. Almost at twenty thousand." The little girl patted her cheeks, encouraging herself.
Since she was willing to persist, Sabito tactfully didn't persuade further. After all, compared to Shinsuke, Fukuda, and those already numb guys, Makomo truly had great perseverance.
"Eighteen thousand eight hundred eighty-eight, nineteen thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, twenty thousand!"
The blade sank into the wooden stake, severing it in two. The cut surface was smooth as a mirror, reflecting Roy's slightly flushed face, making him look heroically striking.
Six days—from ten thousand to twenty thousand. Roy achieved his previously set small goal, completing two sessions of "ten thousand basic swings" in one day. This still wasn't his limit.
"Add two thousand more tomorrow."
Sakonji Urokodaki emerged from the dense forest, as on previous days, saying the same words to Roy. The old man's expression beneath the tengu mask couldn't be clearly seen, but Sabito and Makomo, who'd spent time with him since childhood, vaguely sensed through his clenched fist behind his back that his heart wasn't as calm as he appeared.
"Master wants to see where Eiichiro's limit lies," Makomo said softly.
"Don't you want to see?"
"I do... but any more and I can't count," Makomo complained to Sabito.
Sabito smiled and shook his head. This time Giyu didn't come to mind. Peak-period three thousand strikes versus not-yet-limit twenty thousand strikes—incomparable.
Sabito could almost conclude that once Eiichiro left the mountain, he'd definitely shock everyone—whether demons or Demon Slayer Corps. 'Perhaps master hopes for this too.'
Sabito silently glanced at Sakonji Urokodaki. The old Water Pillar dropped one word—"dinner"—then turned to leave. His back, worn down by the passage of time, showed faint signs.
[Notification: Swordsmanship +17]
Another night passed, accompanied by the wooden grandfather clock's chime in the corner. Nearly drained, Roy simply ate a few bites of dinner with Sakonji Urokodaki before climbing onto the warm bed early.
Sleeping until dawn, reopening his eyes, he'd already returned to Kukuroo Mountain, feeling that familiar exhaustion that made everything seem distant and muted.
Fortunately, after several days' adjustment, he chose to stay in bed a while longer, waiting until the fatigue completely faded before getting up to run.
Thanks to Shadow Step mastery, Roy's speed grew faster and faster. Even controlling his pace, before sunrise leapt over the skyline, he swept past the castle and butler's villa all the way to the Testing Gate at the mountain's base.
"Good morning, young master." Zebro saw him from afar, removing his hat in salute.
Roy nodded to him. His gaze passed over Zebro's receding hairline, glancing outward. A tremendous crash rang out—the Testing Gate, legendarily called "Gate to the Underworld," was pushed open three times as a figure emerged.
"Good morning, Young Master Illumi." Zebro's just-replaced hat came down again.
Illumi held a human head in hand, walking straight past him. Raising his hand to toss it, Mike rushed over at the scent, swallowing the head in one gulp.
Mike glared at Illumi with obvious dissatisfaction, a low growl rumbling from his throat. The massive dog's tail twitched irritably.
He had rushed over full of anticipation, only to be left thoroughly disappointed by the meager meal.
Illumi ignored it, treating its resentful gaze as air. Eyes locked on Roy's retreating back, he spoke. "From today, I also have eighty-one wins."
Clearly, the head just fed to Mike should be the Emitter-type Nen user who'd intercepted him at Heaven's Arena.
Unfortunately—"Not consecutive wins."
Roy glanced back briefly, kindly reminding him, then with another burst of speed, flew up the mountain.
Veins instantly bulged on Illumi's forehead. Staring fixedly at his back, he shouted, "You just wait."
His hands quietly clenched into fists.
"Heh." What answered him was Roy's light laugh and soon-to-disappear silhouette.
'Whether you come or not, I'm right here. Living under the same roof, what's this talk of waiting? If you're capable, just bring it.'
Roy's movement made his earrings flutter. Two minutes faster than expected, he returned to his bedroom, showered, and sat at the dining table waiting for Gotoh to serve breakfast.
Today's sandwich had changed to cheese flavor. While flipping through his great-great-grandfather's notes, he listened to Gotoh report today's training plan. Only when hearing the title "master" from Gotoh's mouth did he close the book and glance at him.
"The master called. He'll arrive home tonight and test the young master first thing tomorrow morning."
The young butler pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, worry evident in his voice. "So I suggest the young master cancel today's training plan and rest well for a day."
Training plans were fixed. Without Silva speaking up, who dared cancel?
Roy finished his sandwich, pulled out a napkin, and methodically wiped his mouth. "No need. Tell Luke to wait in the training room. Whether he can shock me unconscious today remains to be seen."
As he spoke, he glanced at the status panel: [Constitution: 12.05→13.05]
After several days practicing Sun Breathing, he'd successfully increased by one point, equivalent to adding another ordinary person's worth of strength.
Presumably, he could endure much longer now.