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Chapter 44: A Tale of Two Rivals x The Second Clash of Two Stubborn Bulls
🕑 Added 2025-10-19 10:46:07 +0000 UTCChapter 44: A Tale of Two Rivals x The Second Clash of Two Stubborn Bulls
"One minute and forty-two seconds, Young Master. You're just eighteen seconds shy of passing."
By the time Roy finished his breakfast and pushed open the door to the training room, Illumi had already beaten him to it and was undergoing his electro-shock therapy.
Hearing the noise, the boy—his hair standing on end in a perfect afro—forced himself to stay upright, as if he was holding on just to get a single look at him.
The moment he saw Roy, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, stiff as a board.
From one minute and thirty-five seconds to one minute and forty-two seconds, one had to admit, Illumi was making progress.
But compared to Young Master Roy... Luke felt like his eyes had truly been opened these past few days. All he could say was that the passing standard set by the family head was a complete insult to this young master's rate of improvement. It was like he could 'fly,' constantly shattering Luke's understanding of what was possible.
Roy said nothing, simply striding over Illumi's 'corpse'. He swiftly removed his tank top, revealing lean, well-defined muscles with an aesthetic grace.
"My apologies, Young Master." Luke bowed deeply, though his hands moved without hesitation, thrusting the electric baton forward.
A flash of electricity erupted, flowing like liquid mercury through Roy's body. The piercing pain and numbing sensation shot from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his skull, as if trying to jolt his very soul from his body.
But... it feels like it's nothing special now. Roy held his breath, clenched his jaw, and stubbornly refused to let his consciousness slip away.
Gradually... two minutes... three minutes... three and a half... As the timer ticked toward the four-minute mark, Luke hurriedly switched off the baton.
"It's been four minutes, Young Master! We can't continue any longer!" Luke was scared. The Zoldycks were the absolute authority for every butler in the family. He had never anticipated a situation like this; even in Silva's instructions, such a possibility had never been mentioned. As a result, with Roy enduring for so long, Luke had no contingency plan and lost his composure, unsure of what to do next.
"Continue." Since Luke had no answer, Roy gave him one. Seeing Luke shrink back in fear, Roy simply snatched the electric baton from his hand, flicked the switch, and began electrocuting himself.
It's coming... He could feel it. Soon, his body would adapt to this intensity. Then, he would become immune to the current, and the fainting would stop.
Events unfolded exactly as Roy had predicted.
The heart-piercing pain began to weaken. The numbness coiling around him started to recede. Four minutes... five minutes... six minutes...
Finally, after ten minutes had passed and he was certain his body had fully adapted, Roy tossed the baton back to Luke and sat down squarely on Illumi's chest.
"Nngh~"
Illumi let out a muffled groan, his body twitching.
Roy pretended not to notice, waving a hand for Luke to bring him a bottle of water. He drank half of it himself before pouring the rest all over his 'seat'.
"Dig a new hole and bury him."
The little brother may be a jerk, but the older brother couldn't shirk his duty. That little bastard Milluki had been defecating in the other hole again; it was a good thing Illumi could still be moved.
Roy regained full control of his body and stood up, making way for Luke.
"Yes, sir," Luke replied respectfully. He lifted Illumi and retreated.
When Illumi groggily awoke, he didn't find Roy 'hugging a tree' in the garden. Only Luke was there, fanning him with a large leaf.
The boy swallowed to moisten a throat that felt like it was about to emit smoke. "How long was I out this time?" he asked.
"One minute and forty-three seconds."
That one second you spent looking back at Young Master Roy counts, too, Luke added silently in his head before giving the honest answer.
"And him?"
"Young Master Roy didn't pass out this time," Luke said, glancing cautiously at Illumi.
The boy was visibly stunned. It took him a long moment to recover. Finally, he just closed his eyes, grabbed a handful of dirt, and buried half his face in the pit, leaving only his nostrils exposed to the air to maintain his breathing.
If the world already has an Illumi, why did it need a Roy? He used to be so ordinary... Illumi felt utterly betrayed.
He forced himself to calm down, recalling his father's words: even the strongest person has a weakness. If they can be killed, they will die. And even if they revive through some strange means, you just have to kill them again.
So... be patient. Be calm. He was younger, which meant he was fated to have more time and room to grow.
The earth seemed to concur with Illumi, as if comforting him. It was as if the ground, not Kikyo, was his true mother. A gentle breeze rustled through, pushing a wave of heat through an open window toward the boy in the training room, who was currently practicing the Sun Breathing.
With a single 'Setting Sun Transformation', Roy sliced the heatwave in two.
[Notification: Physique +0.2]
Now, as the sun set in the west, the gains from two sessions of 'Ten Thousand Swings' were clearly visible. As his 'Swordsmanship' increased, Roy let out a breath. He formed a sword with his fingers and traced the length of Snow-Walker, from the hilt guard along the spine to the very tip, lost in thought.
A swordsman's blade is not an inanimate object. It is an extension of their limbs, their lover, their everything.
Just as Sakonji Urokodaki had warned him before he began his training: one must temper the blade, cultivate a bond with it, and never abandon it in the wilderness unless one's life is lost.
Roy decided that from this day forward, he would oil Snow-Walker himself. After all, it made no sense to hand your wife over to someone else for maintenance.
At seven in the evening, the sun officially made its exit, and the night made its grand entrance.
After instructing Gotoh to prepare dinner, Roy, with a plan in mind, took Snow-Walker and began a leisurely stroll down the long corridor, heading unhurriedly toward the storehouse.
"Caw—aww—" A few crows flew overhead, dropping several black feathers. As he passed the main entrance of the castle, Roy paused. He squinted at the man walking toward him and called out respectfully, "Father."
Silva was dressed in a sleek, black combat uniform, his long, silver-white hair flowing down his back. From a distance, he looked like a lion with a magnificent mane under the moonlight, exuding an effortless and imposing authority.
He strode closer, looking down at Roy from his superior height. "What day is it today?" he asked.
"Saturday."
"And the test?"
"Sunday."
"You remember well."
"I wouldn't dare forget."
"You want to become the strongest. Is there anything you wouldn't dare to do?"
"Before I defeat you, Father, I must be cautious."
"Heh heh heh... Hahaha!" Silva's low chuckle grew louder, eventually erupting into a wild laugh. His white hair danced wildly in the air.
With his hands in his pockets, he said no more. He stepped past Roy, yet it felt as though everything had been said. He reached out and caught the woman who leaped toward him, sweeping her into his arms in a single motion before vanishing in an instant.
In the now-silent corridor, only a few faint wisps of restless energy remained, serving as a reminder to Roy—
He would need to wear earplugs tonight if he wanted to get any sleep.
That night.
He pushed open the Gate of Cognition, the one adorned with a demon's head.
Roy arrived once more in the world of Demon Slayer. Taking the standard-issue training blade that Sakonji Urokodaki had prepared for him, he headed deep into Sagiri Mountain to practice his swordsmanship, just as he always did.
The wind was strong, the snow heavy.
Undaunted by the hardship, Sakonji Urokodaki corrected the finer details of his stance, footwork, and the angle of his swing every day. But today, he noticed that the disciple who had rekindled his desire to teach was making far more mistakes than usual.
He decisively pressed down on Roy's hands, and with a flick of his wrist, took the training blade into his own grasp.
The old Water Hashira stared intently at Roy. "Is something wrong? If your mind is not at peace, you shouldn't be training."
"Nothing escapes your sharp eyes, Master." Roy didn't deny it, offering a small smile. "I was just about to ask for a day off to rest and recover."
"The reason."
"I need to save my spirit for a fight!"
"With whom?"
The boy took a deep breath, his expression more serious than ever before. "With my invincible father!"
