Kiryu Kazuma launched an offensive.
He couldn't allow his opponent to keep pressing with strike after strike—if things continued like the second round, he would lose the same way again.
He had to attack, to seize the initiative.
Kazuma advanced, unleashing a flurry of thrusts while stepping forward relentlessly.
In kendo, distance control was absolutely crucial. Jigen-ryū specialized in overwhelming New Year's Greeting Sword Strikes. While it had other techniques, its core was a single, powerful, decisive blow.
Defensively, Jigen-ryū relied heavily on footwork.
Thus, one effective countermeasure was to limit the opponent's movement space.
And in a battle of footwork, lower body stability was key.
Here, Daimon Gorō had the advantage—his build was a full size larger than Kazuma's.
With a fierce shout, Daimon surged forward, shoving Kazuma back.
The referee called, "Separate!" forcing Kazuma to retreat and reset the distance.
Both returned to their starting positions.
Only then did Kazuma realize—he'd been thinking purely from a Real Combat perspective, an aftereffect of yesterday's experience.
But this was a kendo match with rules. When two swords locked in close, known as tsuba-zeriai, the referee would separate them if it dragged on too long.
And at this reset distance, Jigen-ryū once again had the upper hand.
Kazuma advanced once more, but Daimon immediately stepped back and launched a powerful Jōdan strike.
Kazuma barely avoided it, reacting just in time to deflect the blow.
The clash of bamboo swords echoed through the kendo hall, almost making Kazuma think the walls were reverberating.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. Imitating Daimon's earlier movement, he swung his raised bamboo sword in a sweeping arc—
This was a bit of a gamble: if it connected, great; if not, as long as he retreated fast enough to avoid a counter, no harm done.
But Daimon was ready. He dodged effortlessly with a single backstep.
The two reset once more.
Now Daimon held his bamboo sword high in a textbook Jōdan stance.
When true Jigen-ryū masters struck that pose, it radiated overwhelming pressure.
Daimon wasn't a master, but after experiencing his current strength firsthand, Kazuma wasn't taking any chances. The two squared off again.
Kazuma thought to himself: On paper, my Shintō-ryū 6 plus Real Combat 5 should at least match his Style-less 8.
But this current imbalance—it's all because of that BUFF.
Kazuma couldn't help glancing at the glowing text floating above Daimon's head.
If this BUFF really comes from life experience, that's ridiculous. I'm desperate to get stronger, but where am I supposed to farm "life experience" to trigger BUFFs like that?
What—convince Mikako to cheat on me? Then unlock a BUFF called "Certified Green Flag Holder"?
No way!
At that moment, Daimon barked, "Spacing out? Men!"
Before the words finished, Daimon stepped in with lightning speed, his bamboo sword crashing down.
For a split second, Kazuma thought, I'm done for.
But his body reacted instinctively—he sidestepped and tilted his head, narrowly dodging the strike. That reaction speed must have been thanks to his Real Combat level 5.
Still, Daimon's move was so fast that while Kazuma's head escaped, the bamboo sword landed squarely on his shoulder.
Pain shot through him like a drill. He almost cried out.
But another thought shoved the pain aside—This is my chance! I can't let this hit go to waste!
Kazuma swung horizontally.
His shoulder injury weakened the strike's power and speed, but in competitive kendo, landing a valid hit was what mattered.
The bamboo sword struck Daimon's Dō with a clear, crisp sound.
Victory!
Though Kazuma had been hit first, in competitive kendo, only valid strikes counted. The shoulder wasn't a scoring target.
In his past life, Kazuma had seen kendo masters like Nakakura Kiyokudan dodge strikes with body movement and counterattack effectively. He wasn't at their level—he'd still been struck—but no matter.
He'd landed a Dō strike!
"Dō!" Kazuma didn't forget to shout.
But the referee hesitated—the kendo club captain looked confused, as if thinking What just happened? I didn't see clearly.
The vice-captain crossed his referee's flags in front of him—signaling indecision and deferring the judgment to the captain.
The onlookers were equally puzzled.
Watanabe shouted, "How was that Dō? He got hit first!"
Daimon barked, "Silence!"
Watanabe obediently shut up.
Then Daimon looked at Kazuma and sighed. "I lost. Referee—call it."
Only then did the captain raise the flag, ruling Kazuma's strike valid.
"Second point! Victory to Kiryu!" the captain announced clearly—though his expression seemed to say, The world is moving too fast for me to process.
The kendo club buzzed with chatter.
Following kendo etiquette, Kazuma and Daimon completed the post-match bowing and sheathing rituals.
Then Daimon removed his helmet.
"Is your shoulder alright?" he asked.
Kazuma rolled his shoulder—of course it wasn't fine! That was a full Jigen-ryū Jōdan strike. The only reason it wasn't shattered was thanks to the bamboo sword and the armor.
Daimon wasn't a true Jigen-ryū master, and why he, a Style-less swordsman, suddenly used Jigen-ryū techniques was a mystery.
Frankly, Kazuma's shoulder hurt like hell.
But outwardly, he forced a casual smile. "I'm okay. So sensei, you studied Jigen-ryū?"
Daimon shook his head. "No, quite the opposite. Jigen-ryū was the enemy I once swore to defeat. But that was long ago."
Ah, there's a story here, Kazuma thought. Great, another headache. Ceremony and real combat training I can work on myself, but these life-experience BUFFs—there's no way to plan for them. I just have to "wait for fate to bestow them."
But I don't want to wait on fate! I've reincarnated—I want to seize fate myself!
Daimon snapped out of his brief reflection and shouted to the club members, "Don't copy what Kiryu just did! Absolutely don't! That move requires high-level footwork. If you half-baked lot try it, you'll just lose your balance and get countered!"
The members exchanged awkward looks. The captain and vice-captain especially gave Kazuma complicated glances.
After all, someone who had barely held a core member spot had just snatched the ace position, bumping everyone down—and now even the teacher was calling them "half-baked" by comparison. Of course there'd be some resentment. Kazuma understood.
He was about to say something when the captain raised a hand. "I'd like to spar with Shihan-dai Kiryu next."
He'd never called Kazuma "Shihan-dai Kiryu" before—clearly the change was meant to be sarcastic.
Kazuma spread his hands. "If you want to learn, I'll teach you."
The captain took a deep breath. At that moment, the club's manager, second-year Watatani Shōko, rushed over with his gear to help him suit up.
Kazuma couldn't help feeling a little sour—he'd forgotten that earlier, Mikako had helped him suit up too.
And Mikako was much cuter than Watatani Shōko.
Now Mikako grabbed a referee's flag. "I'll referee this one!"
"No way! You'll be biased for your boyfriend!" Watanabe shouted. "I'll referee."
Kendo matches required at least two referees, one on each side, to prevent blocked sightlines from causing bad calls.
Official matches used three referees since outcomes often came down to a single moment—and fewer refs risked unfair rulings.
With the captain now stepping onto the floor, only the vice-captain was left to referee—clearly not enough.
Watanabe rushed forward to grab Mikako's referee's flag, but she dodged nimbly.
"You're not even a main team member—what makes you fit to referee?" Mikako retorted. "At least I'm on the main team—girls' division. Beat me first, then we'll talk."
"You—! I'm a guy! It's unfair for men to fight women in kendo!"
Kazuma, watching from the side, quipped, "You say that like you could beat her."
A few days ago, outside the dagashi shop, Mikako had left a nasty mark on a yakuza's face with her bamboo sword. Sure, she'd been knocked out soon after, but she clearly had the skills.
Watanabe glared at Kazuma, opened his mouth—then glanced at Mikako's rolled-up sleeves and the toned muscles of her arms. He wisely shut up.
At that moment, the captain finished gearing up. "I'm ready. Let's begin."
Mikako, holding her referee's flag, eagerly took position opposite the vice-captain and took a deep breath.
Daimon called out, "Kiryu! No Real Combat techniques! You punk—you tried to use your feet just now, didn't you?"
Kazuma thought, Wow, you noticed that?
He had instinctively tried to use his feet—a key distinction between HEMA veterans and novices was their ability to capitalize on foot opportunities.
"Don't look at me!" Daimon barked. "Respect your opponent!"
Kazuma abandoned the idea of replying and turned to face his opponent.
The vice-captain called the match: "Kendo Keiko, first bout."
Kazuma and the captain squared off, drew their bamboo swords, crouched, and bowed.
As the match began, Kazuma immediately attacked.
"Men!"
His bamboo sword shot through the captain's defense, landing squarely on the Men.
The captain froze in place, as if turned to stone.
Mikako swiftly raised her referee's flag. "Valid strike!"
"Wait!" the captain protested. "I wasn't mentally prepared!"
Daimon roared, "Idiot! Once the match starts, attacks can come anytime! Mental prep should be done before the signal!"
Turning to Kazuma, Daimon said, "Forget a formal match—just spar with him a few more rounds. As vice-captain, he needs to get used to the pressure of facing a strong opponent."
Kazuma blinked. What? I'm considered a strong opponent now?
Daimon addressed the whole club. "Same for all of you—take turns sparring with Kiryu. If we make it to Nationals, you'll face national-level opponents—maybe even freaks born into police families, trained in Jigen-ryū since childhood."
"If you don't want to get destroyed, get used to this feeling now! Memorize it with your muscles!"
The members looked at each other.
Daimon shouted, "Well? Answer me!"
Only then did they muster their sports-club spirit and shout in unison: "Understood!"
Kazuma frowned.
Wait... am I now officially doing Shihan-dai duties? But I'm not getting paid for this! At my family dojo, I charge for teaching!
Now I'm doing free labor at the school dojo? This is such a scam!
(End of Chapter)