Episode 8

The dojo was alive with movement, the rhythmic clashing of wooden swords echoing through the hall. The air smelled of polished wood and sweat, a testament to the morning's rigorous training.

Haru wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, his muscles still sore from yesterday's training. He had pushed himself harder than usual, fueled by Ren's departure and the growing frustration of his unawakened bloodforging.

"Again!"

He barely had time to react as his training partner lunged at him.

Haru gritted his teeth, shifting his stance to parry the strike. The impact rattled through his bones, but he held his ground. He needed to be faster, stronger—but something was missing.

The other students sparred around him, some already honing their bloodforging arts, their strikes enhanced by their unique abilities. Haru could only rely on raw technique.

"Alright, that's enough," the head instructor, Takeda-sensei, called out, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "We have a guest joining today's training."

The doors slid open, and a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped in. A newcomer.

Haru turned to look—and felt a sharp twist in his gut.

The newcomer wasn't just anyone.

It was Ryūji Sakamoto.

A name known throughout the village.

Ryūji had been a prodigy—a warrior who had left on a mission months ago and had returned stronger than before. His very presence carried an aura of dominance.

His bloodforging art was said to be monstrous.

"Hmph. Looks like nothing's changed here," Ryūji muttered, his gaze sweeping across the students before settling on Haru.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You're Haru Kurogane, right?"

Haru frowned. "Yeah. What of it?"

Ryūji's smirk deepened. "I've heard about you. The one who can't even awaken his own blood."

A few students exchanged glances, whispers starting to circulate.

Haru's hands clenched into fists, heat rising to his face. He wanted to snap back—but he knew Ryūji was right.

Takeda-sensei stepped forward. "Ryūji, you'll be sparring with Haru today."

The room fell silent.

Haru's stomach twisted.

A match against him?

Ryūji cracked his knuckles. "Perfect. Let's see if you're worth anything."

They stepped onto the sparring mat, wooden swords in hand.

The second the match began, Haru was overwhelmed.

Ryūji's speed was blinding, his attacks fluid and precise. Haru barely managed to block the first strike before a powerful kick sent him sprawling backward.

Pain exploded in his ribs as he hit the ground.

"Get up."

Haru gritted his teeth, forcing himself back to his feet.

He lunged, swinging with all his might. But Ryūji sidestepped effortlessly—as if reading his every move.

Then, the air shifted.

A faint glow pulsed around Ryūji's body.

Bloodforging.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished—then reappeared behind Haru.

A sharp strike to the back of his legs sent him crashing down again.

The dojo was silent.

Haru gasped for breath, frustration boiling inside him.

Ryūji sighed, shaking his head. "Pathetic. You're not even worth using my real strength on."

Haru's vision blurred. Not from pain—but from anger.

Not at Ryūji.

At himself.

---

Meanwhile…

Ren moved swiftly through the mountainous path, the enemy scroll tucked securely within his robes.

The ambush had confirmed his suspicions—something bigger was at play.

Tetsuryū-mura was being targeted.

The emblem on the scroll belonged to the Fuyōkai Clan, a group of rogue warriors who had long harbored resentment toward the village. If they were making their move now, it meant trouble.

He had to return quickly.

But as he reached a clearing, his instincts screamed.

He barely twisted in time as a dagger whistled past his ear, embedding itself into a tree.

Ren's hand snapped to his sword hilt.

A figure in a dark cloak stepped from the shadows, their face hidden beneath a hood.

"You're fast," the stranger mused. "But let's see if you're fast enough."

Then they attacked.

Ren's blood surged, his body moving with unnatural speed.

Their blades clashed in a flurry of steel. Sparks flew as Ren's Shinsoku Giri activated, allowing him to phase through an incoming strike and counterattack in an instant.

But the stranger was skilled.

They twisted away just in time, their cloak whipping through the air like a shadow.

Ren's eyes narrowed. This wasn't just an assassin. This was a high-level enemy.

Then—something changed.

The air around the stranger distorted.

Suddenly, Ren's body felt heavy.

Gravity… shifted.

Ren's eyes widened. Bloodforging.

The enemy smirked, their form flickering like a mirage.

"My blood is a curse upon space itself. Kūkan Kuzushi (Space Collapse)!"

Ren barely dodged as the ground beneath him warped—collapsing inward like an invisible force was crushing it.

Ren took a moment to analyse it.

Jūryoku Kekkai (Gravity Barrier).

The Jūryoku Kekkai was a Spatial Manipulation type which enabled its wielder distort the gravitational field in localized areas, making it heavier or lighter. Its wielder could create crushing forcefields or nullify attacks by bending space.

Ren gritted his teeth.

A bloodforging art like this… was dangerous.

He needed to end this fast.

Tightening his grip on his sword, he vanished in a crimson blur.

---

The sting of defeat still clung to Haru like a shadow.

He sat alone beneath a large cherry blossom tree near the dojo, his wooden sword resting beside him. The pink petals fluttered in the wind, falling like silent witnesses to his frustration.

Why was he still so weak?

Ryūji's words echoed in his mind.

"You're not even worth using my real strength on."

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

He had trained every day, pushed himself harder than anyone else—so why couldn't he awaken his bloodforging?

His thoughts drifted back to his past.

The Kurogane Clan.

A name that once commanded fear and respect. His lineage.

Yet, the very blood that made him special… refused to awaken.

"Maybe… I really am nothing."

The weight of the thought pressed against his chest, suffocating.

"Still sulking?"

Haru flinched at the sudden voice.

Standing before him was Lady Tomoe, her arms crossed, a knowing look in her sharp amber eyes.

She wasn't a warrior, but her wisdom was valued even among the strongest fighters in the village.

Haru quickly straightened. "I—I wasn't sulking."

Tomoe smirked. "Of course not. Just sitting here, looking like a lost puppy."

Haru scowled, looking away. "What do you want?"

Tomoe stepped closer, her expression softening. "I saw your match."

Haru's jaw tightened. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But you need to." She sat beside him, plucking a fallen petal from her lap. "You're drowning in frustration, but you're not asking the right questions."

Haru frowned. "What do you mean?"

Tomoe studied him for a moment. "You want to awaken your bloodforging. But have you ever asked yourself… why it hasn't awakened yet?"

Haru opened his mouth, then closed it.

Why?

It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it before, but… he had never really questioned what was holding him back.

Tomoe continued. "Bloodforging isn't just about power. It's about the will to shape your very essence. Some people are born with it naturally awakened. Others…" She trailed off, watching him closely.

"Others have to find the right spark to ignite it."

Haru felt a flicker of something deep inside. A spark.

What was it?

Before he could respond, the ground trembled.

A deep, rumbling boom echoed from the village gates.

Haru's breath caught.

Something was happening.

---

Ren's battle raged on.

The rogue warrior's Jūryoku Kekkai (Gravity Barrier) kept distorting the space around them, making it impossible for Ren to get a clean strike.

Every step he took felt like his body was being pulled down by invisible chains.

His speed was useless if the space itself bent against him.

"Tch." Ren narrowed his eyes.

The enemy smirked. "What's wrong? Losing your footing?"

The air shuddered.

Then—the pressure suddenly reversed.

Ren's body felt weightless.

His feet barely touched the ground before he was sent flying backward, his momentum completely disrupted.

The shift in gravity threw off his balance, and he barely managed to land on his feet before another attack came—a collapsing forcefield, crushing everything in its radius.

Ren barely phased through it.

His mind worked furiously. He couldn't keep dodging forever.

This wasn't a battle he could win by sheer speed alone.

He needed a strategy.

Then—he caught it.

A pattern.

The enemy's ability wasn't absolute. They had to focus on manipulating a specific area at a time.

Ren smirked. That was his opening.

The enemy's hands moved—shifting gravity toward the left.

Ren acted instantly.

He surged forward, his Shinsoku Giri (Godspeed Slash) activating in a burst of crimson mist.

The enemy reacted, warping the space in front of them—but Ren had already phased through it.

For a split second, he was behind them.

Then—his blade struck.

A deep gash opened across the enemy's side, blood spraying into the air.

They staggered, clutching the wound.

Ren didn't waste time.

In a flash, he vanished again—reappearing just outside their reach.

The enemy cursed under their breath. "You… damn ghost…"

Ren flicked the blood off his blade. "You're not the first to call me that."

But before he could press his advantage—

A bright explosion erupted in the distance.

Ren's eyes widened.

That came from…

The village.

The enemy grinned through the pain. "You're too late."

Ren's pulse pounded.

He didn't hesitate.

He had to get back. Now.