Chapter 180 (Patreon)

It was 11:30 p.m.

The lights on the villa’s second floor had been switched off, and the balcony curtains were tightly drawn.

Only faint traces of moonlight entered the dim living room.

Mihawk repositioned the sofa before sitting down. He then pointed toward the blankets spread across the floor in front of him.

“Do you know sword meditation?”

“Yes.”

Saeko nodded, though a trace of confusion appeared on her face.

“Then you will spend the entire night meditating in front of me,” Mihawk said. “You may leave to use the bathroom no more than three times. Other than that, I don’t care how uncomfortable you become, how tired you feel, or what thoughts enter your mind. You will remain in that position with your back straight.”

His icy-blue eyes settled upon her.

“If your posture breaks, I won’t show you any mercy.”

After speaking, Mihawk demonstrated the proper posture.

He sat cross-legged upon the sofa with Saeko’s white-oak bokken resting horizontally across his lap. His back remained perfectly straight, without the slightest tension or unnecessary movement.

Saeko stared at him for a moment.

Her mind was filled with questions, but she understood that this was part of her training and sensibly chose not to ask them.

Following Mihawk’s instructions, she sat cross-legged on the blankets facing him and placed her sword across her lap.

Since Mihawk was sitting upon the sofa while Saeko sat on the floor, their two perfectly upright figures appeared almost like ascending steps in the darkness.

Meditation, sometimes referred to simply as sitting in silence, was practised both to calm the mind and strengthen one’s control over the body.

Within Buddhism, it was a method of entering a state of deep concentration. Within Japanese swordsmanship, the same practice was incorporated into kendo as mokusō.

For those who devoted themselves to the sword, meditation was a means of looking inward and discovering the path they wished to follow.

It could also temper a swordsman’s state of mind, allowing them to remain calm even when confronted by sudden danger or unexpected change.

This was not Saeko’s first experience with sword meditation.

Whenever she had nothing else to do, she would occasionally sit with her sword and use meditation to pass the time.

However, she had never attempted to remain in that posture for an entire night.

The world had collapsed around her that very morning, and she had spent most of the day fighting zombies. Since waking up, she had not enjoyed a single opportunity to rest.

Now that she had eaten a full meal and finally entered a safe environment, all the exhaustion accumulated throughout the day began turning into an overwhelming drowsiness.

When Saeko first assumed the meditative posture, her thoughts remained active.

Mihawk’s godlike slash repeatedly appeared in her mind, followed by the cold, effortless manner in which he had torn through the zombies surrounding Fujimi Academy.

Before long, however, her thoughts began to blur.

A heavy sensation settled over her head. It felt as though an invisible weight were pulling it downward.

Saeko endured for nearly half an hour before her chin gradually lowered. Her back curved slightly, and her carefully maintained posture began to collapse.

Smack!

“Ah!”

A burning pain suddenly erupted across her right shoulder.

The drowsiness clouding Saeko’s mind disappeared instantly.

Her red lips parted as she drew a sharp breath.

Pain spread across her otherwise composed and beautiful face.

She instinctively raised her head and looked toward Mihawk.

Within the darkened living room, his seated figure resembled little more than a silhouette.

His icy-blue eyes, however, remained unmistakably clear.

Their cold light seemed to pierce the darkness and enter Saeko’s eyes like the point of a blade.

Despite his age, the pressure radiating from Mihawk felt as heavy as a mountain.

Realising that her posture had broken, Saeko lowered her gaze guiltily.

She immediately straightened her back and resumed the correct position.

Mihawk lowered the bokken across his lap once more.

Silence returned to the villa.

Smack!

Less than an hour later, the sharp sound of wood striking flesh echoed through the living room again.

Saeko gritted her teeth and corrected her posture.

Some time later, her exhausted body tilted sideways.

Smack!

Thud!

Saeko toppled onto the blankets before forcing herself upright again.

Throughout the night, the quiet villa was repeatedly disturbed by the sounds of the bokken striking Saeko and her exhausted body falling against the floor.

Mihawk had obtained the template of the world’s strongest swordsman and grown within the far more dangerous environment of the ninja world.

His physical abilities and state of mind had long since surpassed ordinary human limits.

This world was different.

Although Saeko was the champion of the National Women’s Kendo Tournament, she remained an ordinary human. In Mihawk’s eyes, both her foundation and mental discipline were riddled with flaws.

Since he had chosen to accept her as his student, Mihawk had no intention of treating the arrangement casually.

Nor would he relax her training merely because she was a woman.

On the contrary, Mihawk intended to be exceptionally strict with her.

The training awaiting Saeko would be painful. For a long time, she would likely come to fear the lessons he imposed upon her.

Mihawk planned to break down the swordsmanship foundation she had spent years building and reshape it into something entirely new.

Until that process was complete, he would not soften his methods in the slightest.

That long and difficult road began with tonight’s sword meditation.

Under Mihawk’s merciless supervision, the hours slowly passed.

Eventually, the first rays of dawn tore through the darkness. Golden sunlight slipped through the narrow gaps between the curtains and stretched across the living-room floor.

Mihawk, who had remained cross-legged upon the sofa throughout the night, slowly opened his eyes.

The moment he did, Saeko’s seated figure entered his vision.

At that moment, she looked completely different from the admired beauty of Fujimi Academy.

Saeko wore a loose women’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Her exposed shoulders were covered in bruises, patches of purple and blue spreading across her fair skin.

Her usually composed and beautiful face retained its natural gentleness, but it could not conceal her overwhelming exhaustion.

Mihawk no longer knew how many times he had struck or kicked her back into position during the night.

He had shown no mercy with any of those punishments.

Under the combined pressure of exhaustion and pain, Saeko had endured an unimaginably difficult night.

Yet the potential she displayed under those extreme conditions allowed Mihawk to recognise the full extent of her talent.

Saeko remained seated in the sword-meditation posture.

Her spine was perfectly straight, and her breathing had become deep, even, and remarkably steady.

She resembled a pine tree standing firm against a storm—or a sword planted upright in the earth, refusing to bend.

Mihawk’s Observation Haki told him something even more surprising.

Saeko was sound asleep.

Unlike Mihawk, she could not pass the entire night immersed in the Breath of All Things.

She remained an ordinary person who had never learned to sense the breathing of the world around her. Regardless of how calm she made her mind, prolonged meditation would inevitably become dull and monotonous.

Combined with the exhaustion she had accumulated throughout the previous day, Saeko had lost control of her body countless times during the night.

Yet after being repeatedly corrected by Mihawk’s merciless strikes, she had learned—in only a single night—to sleep while maintaining the proper sword-meditation posture.

Such talent and dedication to the sword were extraordinary.

Even in a world filled with supernatural abilities, Saeko would deserve to be called a genius.

Once she learned to perceive the Breath of All Things, Saeko would finally take her first step beyond ordinary swordsmanship.