A person dies twice in their life. The first time is when they stop breathing, and the second... is when they are forgotten by the world.
Maha would not forget. Zeno would not forget. Silva would not forget... and now it was Roy's turn...
Great families are built on orderly succession...
Late that night, after instructing Gotoh on the meal preparations, Roy showered, changed into his pajamas, and lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He carefully searched his memories for anything related to Grandpa Zigg. The only impression he had was a shocking image of him, Netero, and the Gourmet Hunter Linne on their first expedition to the Dark Continent, watching a colossal sand worm burst through the ground, churning the clouds and winds.
It must have been a rather thrilling scene.
The kind that would make one shiver with excitement just by imagining it.
"Sha... sha..." The evening breeze lifted a corner of the curtain, revealing the deep darkness outside...
Roy knew in his heart that this world was like a giant nesting doll. A river flowed out from the Dark Continent, forming Lake Mobius... Lake Mobius enveloped the six continents... and the six continents nurtured billions of people, of whom less than ten percent were Nen users.
Therefore, knowing that there were heavens beyond the sky and worlds beyond the world, if he were Zigg, he too would have been unable to resist embarking on a path of adventure.
The young man remembered that dream, turned over, and closed his eyes.
He fell asleep very late tonight.
'Because I have something on my mind.'
In the Land of Snow, Roy, as usual, entered the world of Demon Slayer through his dreams.
Without waiting for Urokodaki Sakonji to act, he took the basket on his own, and carrying a basket of crushed stones, he went deep into the dense forest to practice his swordsmanship.
Today, he scattered a few more stones than yesterday.
Sabito could see it clearly. The boy wasn't focused, not concentrated enough. He answered Makomo's question of "Why is Eiichiro not in top form today?"...
"Should we still practice then?" Makomo asked again.
"Of course."
"There's no room for sentimentality in sword practice. You practice when you're in a good mood, and you practice even more when you're in a bad mood. As you practice... and practice, your worries will disappear..."
Sabito glanced behind Roy... not far away, under a birch tree, Urokodaki Sakonji, wearing his tengu mask, watched silently for a while before turning back to the wooden cabin and picking up his carving knife.
Just as Sabito thought, he didn't stop Roy like last time to give him a day off. He simply continued carving his masks.
One slash, three stones fell... a hundred slashes, two stones fell... a thousand slashes, one stone fell... two thousand slashes, no more stones fell... By the time the young man, drenched in sweat, had completed three "Pseudo-Ten Thousand Practice Swings," the bangs on his forehead were already frosted over.
[Hint: Swordsmanship +20]
[Sun Breathing: 83→87/100 (Initiate)]
"Hoo~" Roy sheathed his sword, exhaling a dragon of air from his nostrils.
He carried the crushed stones in the basket, not a single one missing, not a single one dropped. He turned and followed the path back to the familiar little wooden cabin.
An oil lamp was already lit inside. A hot pot sat on the kotatsu, and his master had sliced two plates of wild boar meat, pairing them with some wild vegetables dug out from the snow, arranging them simply on the plates.
He said:
"Sit."
He picked up half a plate of meat and put it into the pot...
Wisps of hot steam rose... and soon the entire cabin was filled with the rich aroma of meat...
Makomo was squatting by the pot again, staring eagerly, swallowing her saliva uncontrollably.
Roy put down the basket and his asauchi, sat down cross-legged, and enjoyed the pleasure of the delicious food. Even his worries were washed away a little.
"Are you going to fight your father again?"
Soon, the two plates of meat were empty, and most of the vegetables were eaten as well. Urokodaki Sakonji ladled a bowl of soup and handed it over...
Roy sipped it slowly and shook his head gently. "No, I was thinking about my grandfather. I have to go pay my respects tomorrow."
"Your grandfather?"
"My great-grandfather."
"Then he must have lived a long life."
Urokodaki Sakonji ladled a bowl of soup for himself and drank. "Prepare some of your grandfather's favorite dishes. If he liked to drink, bring a bottle of alcohol. It doesn't have to be too expensive, just something he usually enjoyed."
"I don't know what he liked to drink..."
"You've never met him?"
"He died before I was born."
Urokodaki Sakonji: "..."
A long, long silence fell. The mention of "life and death" seemed to mute all sound...
It was too heavy... Makomo sensed the change in atmosphere and said dejectedly, "Master is probably thinking of us and feeling sad again..."
Sabito said nothing, merely staring at the ceiling beams. He too had many unfulfilled regrets that he couldn't speak of...
Shinsuke and Fukuda were quiet for a rare moment. The crowd of spirits hovering around them all slowed their movements and found a corner to curl up in.
Roy saw it all. After finishing his soup, he silently cleared the dishes, taking the remaining soup base from the pot outside to freeze. When he returned, Urokodaki Sakonji stood by the window with his hands behind his back, gazing at the boundless snow-covered land. With his back to him, he recited a string of names: "Eiichiro, remember, Sabito, Makomo, Shinsuke, Fukuda, Watanabe, Shimizu..."
"A total of thirteen people. They are your thirteen senior brothers and sisters."
The old man turned his head and said seriously, "I never believed they died, because they have always lived in my heart."
"When the day comes that Master gets 'old,' I will go down and reunite with them."
"At that time, whether they resent me, blame me, curse me, or beat me... I will accept it all..."
As he spoke, the weathered old face beneath the tengu mask revealed an exceedingly kind smile...
Roy listened quietly. A faint sobbing sound came from the side, growing louder and louder until it turned into a full-blown wail...
"Master, I miss you so much!" Shinsuke and Fukuda cried their hearts out.
Makomo wiped her tears. The fox-masked boy's eyes turned red; he tilted his head back and closed them... The young man remained silent...
That night, he disrobed and lay on the kang...
He thought silently, 'I saw them, Master. They don't blame you...'
Tossing and turning, listening to the cold wind rustling the window paper, he snuggled into the kotatsu and fell asleep.
The familiar sensation of falling washed over him...
Leaving the world of cognition, he returned once more to his familiar bedroom.
Roy heard the pendulum of the grandfather clock in the corner strike the chime, letting out a single "dong." He lazed in bed for a few minutes before washing up and going for his morning run.
Leaving the old castle, he passed the butlers' villa and reached the mountain gate, where he noticed Kastro seeking advice from Zebro on power exertion techniques. By the time Roy returned to his bedroom, a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums had been placed against the wall in the hallway by the door.
"Chrysanthemums can't come inside; it's bad luck," Gotoh explained, pushing a serving cart.
Roy grunted in acknowledgment, withdrew his gaze, and listened to Gotoh report the day's training plan while eating breakfast.
He was absent-minded...
"The master said that since the young master has learned Zetsu, he should now learn Ren... He seems to have found out that you were pressured by someone else's Ren at Heavens Arena. He has issued an order that he will test you again after some time. It will still be three whips."
"How long is 'after some time'?"
"The master didn't say. It's just..."
Roy speared a piece of beef and tossed it into his mouth, his gaze sweeping over him faintly...
Gotoh chose his words carefully. "He just instructed that it depends on his mood. If he's in a good mood, he might forget about it. If he's in a bad mood..."
The young butler pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose and said cautiously, "The whipping could be any day!"
T/n:
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