(Sakura Yabaimori POV)

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I found myself face-to-face with a man. He looked in his early 30s, but his presence immediately seized my attention. His aura felt overwhelming yet controlled—much like a slumbering dragon whose eyes had just flickered open. Every fiber of his being seemed to pulse with an untamed, raw power that could erupt in a catastrophic blaze if provoked.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I felt like I was staring into a well of uncharted depths. It wasn’t terrifying in the sense that it made me want to run; rather, it was the sort of fear that comes from standing on the edge of something immense and unknown.

“Welcome to my dojo.” 

Oddly enough, he repeated this time with a slight smile that didn’t contradict his intense aura but complemented it—like the calm eye at the center of a storm.

As I caught my breath, I quickly summed up the situation. 

Well, in any case, it never stops dazzling. I have quite a few pursuers on my trail. Yes, a lot of them.

“Sir, I need your help; if you’re as strong as your aura suggests, this should be easy for you.”

He looked at me with a gaze that seemed to pierce right through, seeing past all the layers of distress and urgency wrapped around me.

“Don’t worry, girl, they won’t hurt you.”

His voice radiated an almost contagious confidence, and for a second, I believed him without question. But actions speak louder than words, and I was not disappointed.

My eyes widened as he unsheathed his sword fluidly, stepping past me toward the approaching guards. It was a simple blade, but it seemed to come alive in his hands, reflecting his indomitable will.

The door was still ajar, and through it, I saw the guards finally emerge from the misty veil I’d left in my wake. He lifted his sword as they steadied themselves, eyes locking onto their target.

In a single, graceful swing that looked almost effortless, a wave of energy burst forth from the blade, sweeping across the space between him and the guards. They barely had time to react, their eyes widening in disbelief and dread.

And then they were gone—dissolved into nothingness as though they were mere illusions. The sword returned to its sheath almost as quickly as it had been drawn, with an air of finality that left no room for doubt.

The man turned back to me, his eyes softening ever so slightly.

“Like I said, they won’t hurt you.”

◇◇◇

Over the last year, Master Ise has transformed me into something beyond my expectations. When I first arrived, I was just a girl on the run, a fugitive with barely enough skills to keep myself alive. But now, ah, how things have changed.

He taught me the art of the sword—every lunge, every parry, every counterstrike. It’s like a dance, but a single misstep could cost your life. I remember the hours of meticulous practice, the sweat, sore muscles, the thrill of landing a blow, and the satisfaction of executing a perfect combination. And Master Ise was always there, observing, correcting, and guiding. With a few words or a slight adjustment instance, he’d unlock a new level of understanding for me.

It’s not just swordsmanship; he also taught me the essence of battle tactics. How to read an opponent’s movements, anticipate their next strike, and adapt my strategy in real-time. The wells—strategic points on the battlefield where the flow of mana is strong—are an essential part of this. He showed me how to tap into these wells to enhance my abilities, disrupt an enemy’s connection to them, and even use them as traps.

Oh, Master Ise, thinking about him sends shivers down my spine. The way he holds his sword, the way he moves, even the way he speaks—it’s all just so perfect. I admire him, respect him, and, let’s not mince words, I’m enamored by him. After all he’s done for me, how could I not be?

“Earth to Sakura, Master’s summoning us.”

Hikari’s voice yanked me back to reality, and I glanced at him. We became disciples under Master Ise around the same time. While I had become fairly adept with a sword and battle tactics, Hikari had honed a unique skill—blind swordsmanship. It’s as mind-blowing as it sounds; the guy could cut a falling leaf in half without looking.

“Ah, the gathering of the dojo’s finest, huh? Is it that time already?”

Well, it’s time for the disciples’ meeting.