Arakan shut his eyes, opened them, and shut them again. It was all the same. The eerie blackness of his surroundings felt like it had enclosed him into an inescapable space. Aside from the flickering abdomen of the fireflies that buzzed around the bushes, there was no other source of light. Arakan never envisioned this situation before stepping into Miwaki Forest as his past experiences in similar surroundings reminded him that the moonlight would assist him in navigating his way through the wilderness.

The darkness of the night had consumed the skies, so much so that the markings he made on the trees as he made were practically invisible. With countless gargantuan trees shooting to the heavens, the light that seeped in between the branches of the trees was vanquished in an instant. Although it was only late evening, the jungle made it seem like it was the dead of the night. The temperature had also begun to drop and the immense cold had penetrated Arakan's bones. At this point, it was impossible for him to move forward. One wrong step and he would risk a bite from a venomous snake or an encounter with a wild boar and the worst scenario, stray away from the markings he had engraved on the trees. Even if these factors were taken away, it wouldn't change the fact that his senses had been taken away from him by the darkness.

"Fuck. I can't see anything at all. A fire would be really useful now."

Arakan's thoughts resonated with his actions, he slipped his finger into his sash. The hope of finding a matchbox in it through some divine power drove him to do so but his effort was futile. Internally, he panicked and his heartbeat went berserk but his facial expressions remained stoic. He knew that a strong swordsman should show no emotions during battle. The current predicament was a battle for him. Arakan saw the darkness as a creature to be slain. He had to defeat it. With all these thoughts racking his brain, it seemed like he had almost forgotten his bodily needs. The hunger that should be bothering him right now, the thirst from hiking up the unpredictable forest, none of it affected him. Arakan slammed his back onto the rough bark of a tree and slowly slid down into a sitting postion. He emptied his mind, as Fyodor taught him when he is about to engage the enemy and let his concentration flow into a single stream that rushed down his mind.

"Think. Think. Think. If I don't find shelter, I'm as good as dead. I need to push my senses past it's limits... I have to, if I wish to survive."

Arakan's wrinkled, his eyes shut and teeth was clenched tightly. He figured that even without his sense of sight, he still could hear and smell. It wasn't the first time he was forced to broaden the capabilities of his other senses. Fyodor made it a point to blindfold him once in a while during sparring sessions and took him on as if he still had his sense of sight. The repeated training sessions only meant that Arakan's other senses were much sharper than the average swordsman. Fyodor was preparing him for the crisis he was in long before it unfolded. Arakan's actions were almost instinctive, it was drilled into his body. His ears dug deep into the cacophony of the jungle, past the chirping of the crickets, past the flapping noises from the wings of bats, past the winnowing leaves that glided through the air. It expanded across a wide circumference of the jungle. He heard it. It was crackling of firewood. The distance where it came from was too far from him but the presence of another human being in the forest made him stood up. It meant that he could survive if he met the person who had set up the campfire. However, his sudden movement broke the flow of his concentration.

"I need to retain my senses! Concentrate! Please! I can't waste this chance!"

Arakan forced himself to get into the spiritual zone that he was in just mere seconds ago but only small, hints of it were detected. Despite that, he knew the direction of where the smell came from, he just couldn't pinpoint the exact location. He immediately began moving. Abandoning the markings that he made on the trees was a difficult choice. Every joint in his body protested against his decision to move. However, deep down, he knew that if he died in the process it just meant that his warrior spirit was lacking. Arakan had leaped into danger.

There was no way for him to track time and the condition of his joints were deteriorating. It seemed that the night had lasted forever. Arakan's perception of the time had been distorted after being swallowed by darkness for such a long time. He continued taking small steps forward, wary of pitholes and having
to constantly chop down the wild growth of vegetation that blocked his path. If he had not gone through the training he did with Fyodor, his body would have collapsed by now. All the strengthening and cardiovascular-centered training he did was paying off. It had been at least 5 long hours since he started walking and he had never once stopped. The smell of the burning firewood got stronger and stronger and that was enough to motivate him to continue trekking. Until he met the campfire, he refused to stop walking. The fibres in his thighs were twitching uncontrollably as he pushed himself hard. Unconsciously, be kept thinking about sunrise, his mind under the impression that the rays of the sun would soon be on his side. The harsh truth was, the night had just barely unfurled. It would be long till daylight appears again.

Arakan's legs moved based on his instincts and the physical fatigue which was already eviscerating his soul now translated to mental fatigue. His vision was slowly fading away and he could barely make out the silhouette of whatever that stood in front of him. His condition was so poor that at times, he would trip over a huge tree root and tumble onto the ground, only to get up and continue struggling. His skin was filled with bumps from the many mosquito bites that he got to the point where he felt anemic. Added with the scratches on his legs and arms from the sharp branches that cut him, he was no different from an injured beast that flailed around. If an enemy were to present himself now, Arakan would be defeated easily. As he trudged lifelessly, only to be guided by his sense of smell, he was met with a rocky formation in front of him. It was a cave and the smell of burning firewood shrouded into the air that he breathed in. The smell itself was enough to rejuvenate Arakan. The boy who was about to collapse just seconds ago took heavy and huge strides into the cave. His head drooped down and his chin was only a millimeter away from the upper part of his chest. Each step he took caused his entire leg to shiver in exhaustion and his right hand clasped tightly on the handle of his blade. Although Arakan was barely conscious, his sensitivity towards danger was always present. Starving and dehydrated, every step taken was accompanied by a numbing pain that had outspread across his entire being. Arakan was welcomed with a loud, shrieking voice. There was a tinge of fear mixed in it.

"Stop! I said stop or I'll cut you! who are you! Did the Takeguchi school send you to kill me!"

"Water..."

"Water? what are you saying? get out of here you crazy guy!"

"Water please..."

The moment those words came out of Arakan's mouth weakly, he crashed onto the ground face first. His body has reached the limit of exhaustion it could take. Shocked and perplexed at Arakan's lifeless looking body on the ground, the man in front of him slowly inched closer and closer towards Arakan. He had withdrawn his sword and pointed its tip straight towards his head, the sheath of his weapon rested well in between the sash of his black kimono. An engraving in a dark yellow colour was seen on the surface of his black sheath. It read 'Hosoku'. After lightly poking the edges of Arakan's hair, the young man determined that he was unconscious. He also came to the realisation that Arakan was only a boy and had mistaken him for an adult due to the well-trained muscles that he had. With a sigh of relief, the man rushed to the deeper end of the cave to get his canteen. Dripping drops of water down Arakan's throat, he carried the boy nearer to the campfire and removed the sword that dangled on Arakan's hips. He feared that the weapon could be used against him once Arakan had gained his consciousness. Distancing himself as far away from Arakan as possible, the young man hugged the two swords, Arakan's and his, before dozing off as he leaned against the walls of the cave.

Arakan was awaken by the sound of rain. The droplets bounced off the tip of the rocks and landed on his face. Since he was positioned near the entrance of the cave, he was pretty much exposed to the elements. A boulder half his height was located in front of him, shielding him from getting drenched from the light drizzle. A distance away from him, a man was intensely glaring at the burnt engraving of the sheath of Arakan's sword that aread 'Masaemon The Dragon', his face was strewn with scepticism.

"Did you defeat Masaemon? Or did he pass down this sword to you? Either way, you seem to be an interesting person... Why are you even here?"

The barrage of questions that flew into Arakan's ears the moment he woke up caught him by surprise. So much so that he straight away stretched his arms towards the place where he placed his sword, only to realise that it was gone.

"Masaemon... How do you know about him? And return my sword! Where is your honour as a swordsmen!"

"Answering a question with another eh? I'm Shougo, the next grandmaster of the Hosoku school. Here! Now, are you gonna speak?"

In front of Arakan was a man much taller than him. The voice that came from him sounded childish but his physique seemed like he was a well trained swordsman. His hair was messy but it was spiky on the edges, his skin tone slightly darker than Arakan and his and his eyes were a shade of light brown. A small beard stubble could be seen on the tip of his chin. Donning a black kimono, the man with a long, slanted scar across right cheek stared at him, almost looking bemused. His upper half was quite slender but his legs seemed like it was an ancient statue sculpted with sheer precision. The outline of his outer thighs curved down from the border of his his pelvis and his inner thighs seemed like it contained a brick in it. Through the cover of his kimono, Arakan already knew that the man he was facing trained immensely hard to acheive the monstrosity of the lower half that he had. Arakan kept silent and stood up after his sword was returned to him.

"Oh... You think you can make a mockery of swordfighting by even having the guts to challenge me! Do you not know who I am?"

"I don't know who you are, but I wish to duel with you. I'm well trained so do not underestimate me Shougo... If I win, tell me more about Masaemon!"

"What? How? I come from the Hosoku school, the big three schools and I even ranked second in the... Never mind, I'll just knock you out quickly."

With a sigh of disappointment, Shougo dropped his katana and about a quarter of a second after that, exploded towards Arakan. Fast. That was the word that reverberated in Arakan's head. This was the first duel he's been in and for the first time too, he was against an opponent that's not Fyodor. Shougo stopped his forward moving momentum just centimeters before he entered Arakan's range of attack by anchoring his left foot onto the ground and with a spinning motion moving ant-clockwise, he turned a full round and swung his right leg, slicing the air and intending to smash it into Arakan's left side of his head. It was spinning hook kick. Arakan was calm. He saw every movement taken by Shougo and had a rock solid understanding of his own range of motion. With that, he simply leaned his head backwards, Shougo's legs just inches away from blasting through his dome.

"Your fast... It's almost like you're slicing through the wind. My teacher moves faster though."

"Your teacher? So it's true... Ryugyu did send you to finish me off. Those damned Takeguchi bastards!"

"Huh, Ryugyu? My teacher's name is Fyodor. Don't you know about him? He's insanely strong."

"Lies. It's pathetic that they had to send a kid to kill me... I'll give you a chance to explain yourself since you're just a child. If you are still bent on fighting me though, I will not spare you."

The air in the cave had changed and Arakan knew this feeling. Bloodlust had cloaked the air. He felt this sort of presence multiple times before, back when his village was raided and during his many fights with Fyodor whenever he took the fight seriously. Although he was used to it, it did not change the fact that his body was signalling his mind that he was in danger. Shougo did not reach for his sword from his hip and walked towards him.

"Explain yourself."

It was the only words Shougo uttered as he shifted closer and closer towards Arakan. There was a blaze in his eyes and the flaming aura that he emitted locked Arakan to the ground. Nevertheless, Arakan knew that he could not succumb to the man in front of him.

"My father is Masaemon and I'm in this forest to get myself prepared for the Eastern Swordfighting Championships. I don't know why you think I'm sent by Ryugyu when I consider him as an opponent to be defeated... I will not hesitate to absolutely kill you if needed so once again, do not take me lightly."

Arakan was ready for combat. He sharpened his senses and was in a position to draw his blade and kill Shougo if he continued to intimidate him. Between the 2 warriors, the tenseness in the air was so sharp that if a bird were to fly in space between them, the animal would be cut in half.

"Huh? Wait, wait wait... Masaemon's son? That Masaemon? The dragon? The North's strongest swordsmen?"

"The North? My family lives in the most eastern part of the country... I don't think you get-"

"Ah... So that's where he disappeared to. Everyone had been searching for him for so long that they eventually gave up."

"Hold up, you knew my father?"

"Every swordsmen in the country knows him! He's a legend... The greatest swordsmen in the North and some even say the country!"

Arakan was taken aback by the response that Shougo muttered and Shougo was even more surprised that the the boy in front of him did not know of his father's greatness. Arakan's cluelessness eased the tension in the cave and Shougo took a seat beside him, his killing intent had thinned down as he dug his face into his hands. Curiousity crawled into his chest and he wanted to know more about Arakan. It was bizarre for Arakan to not know about his father's reputation as a swordsmen when he himself aspired to learn the way of the sword. Shougo sat down behind the firewood which was now drenched in rainwater. He begun to tell Arakan about himself.

"I'm the heir to Jozuri Hosoku, the current grandmaster of the Hosoku style and the next in line to be the master of the Hosoku sword school. Like you, I'm also here to train for the Eastern Swordfighting Championship. I've lost to Ryugyu thrice in a row now in the final match..."

"You were ranked second in the championship? That means you're strong! We should duel! I intend to beat Ryugyu-"

"Hahahahahah! Beat Ryugyu? That guy fights like he is from a different species. I was defeated with a single strike thrice! It's madness!"

"That's... Impossible! Wouldn't you know of the strike that is coming if he uses the same, single strike technique everytime?"

"It's unguardable... You know what's coming and you know when it's coming but there's no way to combat it."

Shougo's voice turned deep when he spoke of Ryugyu. It was not fear that was entwined with his voice, it was hopelessness.

"Show me Ryugyu's strike... If I know the move, my master might find a way to-"

"I don't think you understand... If the Hosoku style, one of the big 3 sword schools can't stop it, what can you and your so-called master formulate?"

"Let's have a practice round... I think that'll demonstrate our skill set. I've dedicated my life to the sword, it's time to see the results of my training. I see some wooden swords back there."

"Masaemon's son eh, I guess I should be looking forward to this. The bloodline of a great warrior... Let's see if it really flows in you."

While the duel was about to unfold, miles away in Nozoru, a certain boy was training hard and attempting to break his physical limiter. The boy was none other than Genjiro. He had spent the entire night strengthening his body parts, his triceps to increase the power and speed of his swings, his shoulders to defend against powerful strikes from his opponents and most importantly, his willpower to keep going. There was only thirty minutes left before the start of his training with Ryugyu and the rest of the Takeguchi dojo's students but he was still at it ever since the night before.

"4706... 4708... 4709..."

"If you keep this up, you will not get stronger but weaker. You're leaving no time for your muscles to rest and get stronger... You're not allowed to train in the dojo today."

"M-master! Why? I'm trying to prepare myself for the upcoming tournament... I can't lose to-"

"You're not training. You're simply torturing yourself if you don't get rest, because that's when the body gets stronger. Go and catch up with the sleep you've missed for days... Come back after you've fully recovered"

Ryugyu who stood in front of the dojo as Genjiro was in the midst of his pushups outside, was not impressed at all by Genjiro's hard work. He found it useless and to be a waste of time as Genjiro had taken no breaks for many hours at a time and kept training until his body had simply broken down and his mind could not fathom the inhumane efforts that he has put himself through. When that occurs, he would end up slammed against the ground, unconscious and when he woke up, he would continue the training. It was gruesome, but for the people like Genjiro, no hard work is enough.

"Once you're done resting, come see me. You'll be doing intensive training and we'll recap on the basics. I'll also be discussing about Shougo Hosoku ... You'll need much more than you already have to beat him."

"Shougo? The second ranked in the tournament for the past few years?"

"That's right. He's strong. That leg of his, if you don't evade it in time, you'll end up with broken bones. He's the closest anyone has ever gotten to beating me... See you Genjiro."