A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan Chapter 166 - The Fight (2)

"Strike of the nine-tailed serpent!" Nakama called out immediately after hearing Kuraka's words. Such a strike was aptly named, for his limps twisted and squirmed as though they belonged to some wounded snake. But that was not merely for show. To look down on the stance would be to meet your demise. He struck forward with his spear, again, and again, absorbing the momentum that went through his spear as Gengyo blocked his strikes, and then he delivered another. Nine times he struck, and each time his strike grew more powerful, as like a pendulum his wriggling limbs continued to absorb the momentum.

"Get him Nakama-san!" The crowd called out, seeing their senior monk burst forth with authority. It was no grandmaster technique, but then again, he did not need it – he was going against a measly outsider after all.

"Look Tsuchi! Nakama-san will get revenge for you!" One of the young a.d.u.l.ts called out to his despondent friend. But Tsuchi merely shook his head.

"No, you look, idiot. The outsider hasn't taken a single step back even after all that."

It was true. If a casual observer was watching the fight, they would instantly announce that the advantage lay with Nakama, for he was striking continually, and Gengyo was not given a single opportunity to strike back. Yet a more experienced eye might be able to see beneath that simple surface. Sweat was already beginning to glisten down Nakama's head, whilst Gengyo still had yet to take a single step.

He twirled his spear aggressively, readying his body for the next technique. He was surprised, indeed. The counter for the nine-tailed serpent strike was simply not to allow all nine strikes to land. Usually, he could do significant damage with one or two, before his opponent managed to counter-attack. Yet this boy had merely stood there, and absorbed each of the vibrations through his body and spear as if they were nothing more than a light tickle.

'Perhaps he's not so bad after all…' Nakama muttered, allowing his lead hand to slide down his shaft, and grip the spear nearer the end, improving his reach.

"Leap of the starving tiger!"

He sprang off his hind leg and lunged forward, having been able to disguise his increased reach, intent on catching Gengyo off guard. And that he did – he could see the surprise in the boy's eyes. Yet his reaction was too quick. He raised his spear as though to counter-attack, and Nakama knew his strike to be blocked.

Yet it was not blocked with the length of the spear, but with the narrow shaft, mere centimetres thick. With the speed at which the battle was happening the crowd were not able to notice such a minute detail, but the accuracy and strength required to block in such a way was monstrous.

He continued to pound away, using technique after technique, and his irritation gradually grew. The fight was not meant to last this long. It should have been far faster. This was the kind of fight he'd have with a fellow senior monk, not someone who was barely above a child.

Even against the immense pressure and speed of his attacks, the young man he duelled barely even flinched. His gaze was unyielding and calm, and betrayed no sign of any intent to return the attacks. Rather than winning the fight, he seemed to have some other objective on his mind.

'These are some powerful strikes…'

Gengyo thought to himself with approval. He could tell the wood of his spear was barely holding up, but he was unconcerned with that. During training, he hadn't had the chance to test his defence too often. He had simply learned strikes, and stances. And so it was rather enlightening – and exciting – to find that he could absorb these otherworldly strikes without too much problem. He held no doubt in his mind that before his training, he would have fallen to the very first nine-tailed snake strike.

"Why's he not attacking? Is his opponent too fast?" Kitajo asked with concern, as the high-speed battle unfolded out in front of him.

Momochi shook his head with a light smile. "No, it's quite the opposite."

"It feels cruel to have Nakama face such a little monster. How long do you think it will be before he uses a grandmaster technique?" Soroko asked with a hint of pity in his voice.

"Haha, I'm sure it'll be quite educational for him. And I wouldn't think it'd be too long. The longer this fight lasts, the more embarra.s.sed our friend begins to feel."

Their words were true. Nakama's frustration was growing. The longer the duel lasted, the more face he would lose. Even if he had to use a grandmaster level technique, then it was likely worthwhile. The trouble with such high level techniques was that they demanded much from the body. In terms of concentration, and in terms of energy.

The techniques – if one were to simplify them – were the ancestrial monk's attempts at unlocking the fullest potential of the human body, and so they able to overcome normal limiters that were placed upon the output of their muscles.

And so, it was likely that Nakama would only be able to use his grandmaster level technique once, or perhaps twice if he pushed himself, hence his reluctance.

"d.a.m.n it…" He muttered under his breath as his breathing was beginning to grow laboured. At this rate he would not have enough energy to use a grandmaster technique even if he wanted to. It felt spiteful, the way the boy was able to continue to stare back at him, unafraid and unmoved by his ferocious attacks.

It was as though the lad barely moved. He only ever moved his arms in response to an attack, and even then it was only slightly. He made no attempt to dive forward, and let out any attacks of his own. His lack of movement made Nakama's choice of technique simple. It was an attack that was difficult to land, but its power was enough to cause the ground to crack and tremble.

"The elephants' eternal triumph!"

He began to set up for the attack with haste. His speed was remarkable – the way his legs twirled and his feet thundered atop the ground, building up the power. Gengyo regarded him with interest, already able to feel the potential of such a strike. Yet still, he did not move.

"What's going on? Is Nakama-san using a grandmaster technique?" Whispers pa.s.sed through the crowd as they attempted to understand the state of affairs.

Tsuchi narrowed his eyes as he studied the fight. He was well aware of Gengyo's strength, but even he found his lack of action to be folly – there was no one he could face the elephant's eternal triumph and leave unscathed.

Very soon, the power had been concentrated, and it was clearly growing difficult for Nakama to hold it back. But with a final series of patters, he unleashed it, cracking down onto Gengyo's head with his spear, ready to tear the ground asunder.

It was an attack that even the young monks were familiar with. They had seen demonstration of its power, and remembered that rubble tended to fly through the air wherever such a strike landed. All knew that the way to defeat it was simply to dodge – as it was slow moving. No one had attempted to counter it before. To do so would be foolish.

THWACK

"…"

"…What?"

"How?"

The spear arced through the air, and looked as though it extended. It flew so quickly and powerfully that it was a wonder the air did not burst into flame. It's wielder's face was a mask of confidence, and he knew the defeat of his enemy to be a.s.sured.

And yet… At the very last moment, with both hands held above his head, the young duelist had defended himself. The only evidence of the power such an attack held was the slight twitch of his eyebrow as he exerted himself. But that was all. His knees did not buckle, and his arms did not quiver.

"My turn." He said quietly, taking a step forward for the first time. As he did so, the entire arena instinctively flinched. It was as though a great golem had suddenly come to life, with all the power that it held behind it.

The sand of the pit whispered across his feet as they paid homage to a king.

"Strike of the thunder king!" He murmured, enacting the technique that he had only recently learned from Momochi. He set it up with slow grace and precision.

Nakama's face was drenched with sweat, yet completely devoid of colour. He knew this fight to be his loss. He had no more cards to play. Even a low-level technique was beyond him now. But he could not flee. He had nowhere to flee to. This temple was his life, and to lose face here would mean to lose all that he had.

"Is that really..?"

"It is! I've seen sensei perform it before… but does this outsider really know how to perform it? I heard it was complicated, even amongst the grandmaster techniques."

Their words and their doubts were the furthest thing from his mind. He paid none of them attention. Not even Kuraka, as he sat seething in disbelief, looking completely distraught.

VWOOSH

He completed his motions calmly, and he felt the air molecules against his palm, as he pushed out, and caused a heaven-defying s.h.i.+ft in pressure, forcing his opponent to his knees.

"I…Surr…ender…" Nakama said, barely able to breath, as the pressure around his body steadily began to increase. Any more, and it was very likely that his heart would stop beating, or worse still, it might explode.

As soon as he heard those words being uttered, Gengyo immediately released the technique. He was not out to kill the man.

Before Kuraka could open his mouth and announce the victor, Soroko had already returned to the ring, and he spoke loudly to silence the uproared crowd, who could not believe what they had just witnessed.

"As I stated, this is Miura – a rare talent – and he is today's victor!"

There was a pride in his voice that was uncanny for a monk. Still, how could he not be proud? To have his pupil progress so quickly, and defeat one of the strongest members of their order. More than that, he did not have to lose face after calling out such an insane match.

The boy had played his part well too – he had made the difference between the two of their powers quite obvious. There had not even been a slither of a chance of Nakama winning, all present were well aware of that, which made it all the more exhilarating.