In truth, what Kazuma was holding... was an umbrella.
But an umbrella could absolutely double as a wooden sword.
Without knowing the full story, all Kazuma saw was blood on the floor—actually from one of the bodyguards—and Nanjō Honami being pinned to the ground by a group of burly men.
His blood instantly boiled.
But he kept his head. The first step was to recite a phrase to trigger a buff.
But... what phrase?
Kazuma glanced at the umbrella in his hand, then at the flower vase sitting on the windowsill—and got an idea.
He'd long suspected that the required "chant" didn't necessarily have to be a poem. It could be a saying, a quote, anything really—so long as it fit the situation and his current state of mind, it could trigger a buff.
Kazuma leapt down from the window, landing in a pool of moonlight on the floor. Facing the crowd of bodyguards, he solemnly spoke his first word:
"Manners."
He straightened his clothes, then spoke the second word:
"Maketh."
Finally, staring at the group of men in suits, he declared the third word:
"Man! A man without manners cannot stand tall."
And he even helpfully explained the meaning of those three words.
"Do you know what that means?"
The men exchanged bewildered looks.
"Seems you don't. Well then, allow me to teach you."
With that, Kazuma hooked the vase with his umbrella and, with a flick, sent it hurtling toward what looked to be the leader of the group.
The vase shattered against the man's forehead, sending him crashing to the floor.
Before the others could react, Kazuma lunged at the nearest target, using the umbrella like a bamboo sword to perform a Gatotsu thrust.
The man flew backward—but perhaps because Kazuma was technically teamed up with Butler Suzuki at the moment, his Lone Dragon buff wasn't fully active. The man only flew a short distance before collapsing and didn't get back up.
That thrust had carried Kazuma right into the middle of the enemy group, and he immediately transitioned into a Kesa-giri diagonal slash.
Though an umbrella was technically a blunt object, its metal tip was perfectly capable of leaving a mark. The angle was just right—its tip skimmed across the faces of several suited men, leaving long, thin cuts.
It looked painful, to say the least.
Capitalizing on their disarray, Kazuma targeted the man who posed the greatest threat, rapidly striking with an upper-stance attack. In the blink of an eye, the umbrella handle had knocked the man on the head several times.
The man dropped to his knees—and then slumped forward, unconscious.
Growing more fired up with each exchange, Kazuma was just about to take down every last one of these thugs bullying his student when a sharp voice called out from behind.
"That's enough! Everyone, stop!" shouted Butler Suzuki.
The bodyguards froze on the spot—in truth, they'd been caught so off-guard by the surprise attack that they still hadn't mounted an organized counter.
Kazuma stopped a fraction too late—leaving one more umbrella-shaped imprint on the face of the last man he struck.
"Help the injured! Get the young lady on her feet! Just what do you think you're doing?!" Butler Suzuki barked.
Truth be told, even without that order, Kazuma was already moving to help Nanjō Honami.
He shoved aside the last of the men holding her down, pulled her up by the arm—and immediately noticed blood at the corner of her mouth.
"What happened?" he asked anxiously.
Nanjō Honami gave him a faint smile. "I bit my tongue. It's nothing serious."
Kazuma looked at the blood and thought grimly, That much blood, and she says it's nothing?
He suddenly recalled what Butler Suzuki had warned him: that Honami was in such a volatile state that she might even try to bite her tongue and end her own life.
At the time, Kazuma had thought the butler was being overly dramatic.
Now he realized it was very real.
A surge of fury roared up inside him.
Taking a deep breath, Kazuma shouted toward the shop interior:
"Nanjō Hiroshi! Look what you've done to your own granddaughter! What kind of grandfather does this?!"
Before he could go further, Honami quickly covered his mouth.
"Please stop," she begged. "Just take me away from here! I won't go through with this marriage! I won't stay in this house! I want to live my life freely..."
But Kazuma shook his head without hesitation.
"No. There are things that need to be said to your grandfather—right here, right now!"
He could no longer contain the fire in his heart.
He was going to give this Nanjō Hiroshi—the so-called Autumn Dragon of the Nanjō Family—a piece of his mind.
He wanted to see just what kind of scumbag would drive his treasured disciple to this point.
He was going to speak his mind—face to face!
Meanwhile, Nanjō Hiroshi heard the bold, righteous shout echoing from the corridor and arched an eyebrow.
"Who's shouting?" he asked the security chief beside him, openly curious.
The man pressed a hand to his earpiece, seemingly listening to a report. After a few seconds, he said:
"Appears to be a seventeen-year-old student, possibly brought here by Butler Suzuki. He just took down several of our men."
"A seventeen-year-old? Brought by Suzuki?" Nanjō Hiroshi frowned. "Really? Hmph. Masahito, see to the Asakura councilman and his son. I'll go take a look."
With that, Nanjō Hiroshi strolled out with an almost leisurely gait, heading toward the corner of the corridor where the scuffle had occurred.
And there he saw him.
A young boy.
With his own granddaughter, Nanjō Honami, leaning on the boy's shoulder.
Nanjō Hiroshi snorted. "So it's you, the punk trying to seduce my granddaughter!"
"Hah?" Kazuma glared back, brows furrowed. "What nonsense are you spouting? You really have gone senile, haven't you? I'm no punk trying to seduce your granddaughter!
"I am her kendo instructor!
"Shihan-dai of the Tennen Rishin-ryū—
"Kiryu Kazuma!
"That's who I am!"
For a moment, Nanjō Hiroshi was dumbfounded by this unexpected introduction.
A seventeen-year-old shihan-dai? My granddaughter's kendo instructor?
Since when? I've never heard of this!
He glanced again at Honami, still nestled against the boy, and thought it might be simpler to assume this was just her new boyfriend after all.
Just then, Honami straightened and stepped away from Kazuma.
Looking her grandfather squarely in the eye, she spoke in a clear, resolute voice:
"Kazuma-kun is absolutely right. He's my kendo instructor—and the greatest teacher I've ever had in life! From him, I've learned the most important lesson of all:
"That you must fight for your own happiness. Even if you're alone—even if the whole world stands against you—you must never give up!
"I, Nanjō Honami, will marry only the man I choose for myself! I will pursue my freedom and my happiness!"
Nanjō Hiroshi barked back:
"And what about the family that raised you? Will you forsake them for your so-called freedom? Do you intend to cast aside the years of effort I've poured into this family?
"I don't recall raising such an ungrateful child!"
Honami faltered, unable to respond.
At that moment, Kazuma gently patted her shoulder, then stepped forward to face Nanjō Hiroshi directly.
"I've heard bits and pieces about you from Butler Suzuki and Nanjō-san herself. I thought you were a man of unparalleled character.
"But now that I've met you... I'm sorely disappointed.
"You're nothing but a spineless old dog!
"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic!"
(End of Chapter)