Chapter 415: Yoemon
The Yaegaki shrine grounds had transformed into an arena of crackling tension. Stances and footwork were subtly evolving. Slow shifts. Slow movements.
Kazi was soft and casual and far apart. Yoemon was not. He was quick with it and whipped his blade toward his foe, toward Kazi. It was not a strike but a warning. Markings ran along the blade like flowing currents. They felt almost alive.
The young samurai’s breath steadied. He adjusted his grip, focusing on the slow, fluid style he was developing—a style he hoped would honor Miyamoto Musashi’s teachings.
Kazi saw right through it. The trepidation, the desires, and the intent. Without needing Future Sight, with only an understanding of a person and their stance, he deduced what they would do best. He unsheathed the katana lent to him by Lord Mosuke. He seemed entirely comfortable. Kazi’s stance was loose, almost deceptively casual. He gestured with the tip of his blade, nearly touching the blue katana, silently inviting Yoemon to make the first move.
Yoemon didn’t hesitate and took the invitation. His blade flowed like water and he sliced in an arc meant to bind and twist around Kazi’s guard and toward his left waist. The markings on his katana shimmered with a hint of magic and the water-like energy guided his strike to be flexible, almost serpentine.
But again, Kazi predicted this. He blocked the strike with minimal effort, and then in a swift, almost unseen motion, slid forward, two hands coming together in a swing. Clash! He pressed down on the blue katana hard. Then for a second and almost a third time if not for Yoemon backpedaling and countering with a thrust. Side-step and a downswing again. Yoemon backed away with a desperate finality. He couldn’t break through.
Kazi was sharp, disciplined—the distinct style of Kumdo. Yoemon was passionate and on the fly. Countering as his instincts guided him. Fast offence and observation for defence.
An arrogant method of fighting. Arrogant and elegant.
"You know, Yoemon," Kazi said when a moment of breath was allowed, "you have the elegance down, but elegance alone won’t win you anything."
Yoemon’s jaw tightened and he tried to come at Kazi on the right side. His katana moved in spirals, weaving an unpredictable pattern, each swing intended to close Kazi off and force him to miscounter. Fake swing, fake swing, fake swing—
Clang!