Akatsuki Translations

Ba Ryouki was born to parents who both descended from bloodlines that inherited a sunstone, but their family status was below average.

His mother, hailing from a fallen and scattered clan, raised her children while selling the meager dowry she brought into the marriage. Her thin figure, clad in shabby clothes as she busied herself with housework, looked so poor from afar that she was indistinguishable from commoners.

His father, born as the heir to a weak tribe with only a run-down mansion and scrawny, unprofitable land to their name, had given up early on advancing through the path of a warrior monk that he had volunteered for in hopes of earning a stipend. He ended up leading a hazy life, squatting by the roadside to pick pungent wild herbs and bringing them home to feed his family.

“I wish I had a talent for money rather than brawn,” was a common refrain from his father, the struggling head of the clan.

Ba Ryouki was born into such a household, raising his first cry in this world as the next-generation leader, but his temperament was already extraordinary from a young age.

He did not cry, cower, or flinch. Once something caught his interest, he would obsess over it, not even sparing time to blink. His fascination with toy swords, in particular, greatly troubled his parents. Whether going to take a bath, use the toilet, sleep, or eat, he would never let go of it for even a moment, no matter where he was.

Once Ba Ryouki could stand on his own feet, he was so rambunctious that even fish in water would be astonished. All day long, whenever he was awake, he would constantly swing his sword, challenging ferocious animals and older bullies to fights and beating them to a pulp.

His timid father struggled to deal with his fiery-tempered son. As a result, he was somewhat thrown into a sword dojo, but even being separated from his family at a young age did not faze Ba Ryouki in the slightest.

Having gained a proper teacher to further develop his skills, around the age of ten, he participated in a sword competition for children and won decisively without taking a single blow. This caught the eye of a swordsman considered one of the best in the country at the time, who took him in as a disciple.

His exceptional talent and spirited techniques overwhelmed even his seniors who trained tirelessly to master the martial arts. His master quickly declared Ba Ryouki as his successor, but this ended up inciting the jealousy of his senior disciples. Ba Ryouki found himself in a tense situation, subjected to persistent harassment that escalated to the point of being ambushed.

After a deadly struggle, he barely managed to crack the skulls of nearly twenty senior disciples. However, what awaited him afterward was an unreasonable expulsion.

Touching the countless scars carved into his exposed skin, the aged Ba Ryouki dredged up memories of days gone by.

On the morning of the duel he had desired, he awoke as if urged on by an unceasing sense of exhilaration, taking deep breaths to calm his mind.

The muscles in his arms bulged, his pectorals swelled, and his abdomen was hard and chiseled. His physique was utterly divorced from his actual age.

Time passed was not a disadvantage. Rather, the accumulated experience had taught him the most suitable state for his body. It was different from when he had been reckless in his youth. He took pride in the fact that his current self was the pinnacle of Ba Ryouki as a human being.

His opponent was young and strong. Recalling the sensation of briefly crossing swords, boiling blood like hot water coursed through his body from his core.

Unable to endure it, Ba Ryouki trembled, his shoulders shaking.

—I can’t wait.

Unable to hold back, he let out a smile.

*

On the day of the victory celebration, A Shara sat with her father, the head of Uzumi, on a specially constructed viewing platform, her legs crossed on the prepared seat.

The voices of those who had let loose and were noisily making merry with drinks in hand filled the castle courtyard. They cheered for those drunkenly displaying their banquet talents, making a huge commotion as if turning the world upside down.

When the rhythmic sound of drums resounded with a “don, don,” the surrounding clamor turned into a buzz. It signaled that the main event of this feast was approaching.

“Pfft.”

Beside her, her father A Zan suddenly burst out laughing with a goofy grin. Shara asked him in a slightly exasperated tone:

“…What is it?”

“Hm? No, I was just remembering a story I heard. Apparently, there were some who tried to hold a betting pool on the match between the old general and that man, but when they started, everyone unanimously put their money on the old general, so the bets couldn’t be established. It’s a shame. I would have gladly bet half my fortune on the old general too.”

As her father guffawed, Shara poured cold water on him.

“I agree with the part about it being a shame. If I had known, I would have gladly bet everything I had on the Murakumo soldier.”

A Zan was stunned by his daughter’s words.

“What? Surely you don’t seriously believe that the great General Ba Ryouki will lose.”

“I dislike meaningless drivel.”

A Zan snorted, looking displeased.

“Hmph, well, just watch. Even if you’re exceptional, you’re still a child. You don’t know just how great of a man Ba Ryouki is. There’s a reason why people from other countries raise their voices upon hearing his name. There’s no way a renowned hero of the Southern Mountains would lose to a young upstart with just a bit of skill.”

As her father spoke heatedly, Shara quietly replied, “I see.” She thought that what her father said wasn’t really off the mark. Shara, who had seen the old Shanoan general’s abilities up close, was well aware of his prowess.

—Even so.

She smiled softly to herself. Shara was convinced that even so, it would not be Ba Ryouki’s overwhelming victory. It was because of what happened a few days ago. When that Murakumo man had pointed out the flaws in Shara’s techniques after just a brief glance. She had certainly glimpsed a part of the talent hidden within him. That was not something a person with just a bit of skill could ever do.

—What is this feeling?

Shara was at a loss as to what to call this emotion stirring within her chest.

Many people here, including her father, were underestimating that man’s true abilities. And the only ones who truly knew, aside from herself, were probably Ba Ryouki, the very person who eagerly sought this match.

—Is it a sense of superiority?

Shara settled on that as the identity of this emotion she was grappling with.

With each passing day, Shara grew tired of the existence known as other people. They were all mediocre beings, their words and actions all falling within the realm of her imagination. Even on the battlefield she had joined in search of stimulation, she had not gained any experiences or sensations that exceeded her expectations.

That man felt different somehow. A man who had survived by biting down on those far above him. She had a premonition that he might do something. Yes, perhaps he would defeat Ba Ryouki, one of the foremost swordsmen of the era, whose victory everyone believed in without question.

The origin of that thought had its own colors, but like the many others waiting for the moment, Shara too wished for it to come soon as she listened to the sound of the drums. The rhythm gradually increased in pace.