Chapter 71: Maha's Warning x The Transformed Zzigg
"Understood."
Roy's expression remained neutral, neither happy nor sad.
He finished his breakfast methodically, leaving Gotoh to clear the table. "Don't forget to oil the cane sword," he instructed. Even with Snow-Walker back in hand, he couldn't neglect the other blade. The boy strode out the door. Gotoh hesitated, wanting to say something, but finally gritted his teeth and offered a word of caution. "Young Master, it might be best to appease the Master for the time being."
"Alright. I'll do my best to make him appease me." Roy didn't break stride and walked away.
Gotoh: "..."
What a mess... He cleared the dishes, pushed the cart, and followed him out.
In the summer, the sky brightened by five in the morning. The boy strolled through the long corridors of the old castle. As he passed the small room, he paused for a moment. Cartoons played on the TV, and the old man was sprawled on the recliner, sound asleep.
As always, Roy bowed respectfully and continued on his way.
Maha cracked an eye open, watched him leave, then rolled over and went back to his nap. With Zeno away on a mission, the old man could finally enjoy a peaceful morning snooze without interruption.
A smile touched Roy's lips; he could faintly hear the old man's snores. Bathed in the morning light, he pushed open the door to the training room.
With a sching, he drew Snow-Walker.
First, he regulated his breathing and settled into his stance, completely calming his mind. Then, at a precise moment, the boy gripped the sword with both hands and slashed diagonally. His daily 'Sun Breathing' practice began.
"Dance..."
Focus.
"Blue Heaven..."
Lost focus.
"Burning Bones, Summer Sun..."
Focus.
"Setting Sun Transformation..."
Lost focus.
Without realizing it, time passed until noon. Shhh~ With a final slash that cut through the air with searing heat, Roy sheathed his sword. As expected, a notification popped up on his panel.
[Notification: "Physique +0.3" (Note: Your focus duration has increased by twenty minutes compared to before)]
It's because my hands are steadier... Roy recalled Sakonji Urokodaki's words from the other day: "The steadier the hand, the fiercer the blade." He felt a sense of understanding.
Zzzt~
The red light of the security camera in the corner flickered.
Second-floor master bedroom.
The man sipped his tea, which contained various medicinal herbs, and quietly watched the monitor. On the screen, the boy trained, drenched in sweat, his swordsmanship growing sharper.
"I maintain the Master's sword every day. Whenever you command, I will retrieve it," Tsubone said. Silva hadn't left the estate in days. Having just satisfied Kikyo, he had eagerly summoned Tsubone and was now selecting a mission from the list Hall had presented.
"No need."
To grasp the form but miss the intent is ultimately useless. If he doesn't say it, he won't learn.
The tea was finished, leaving only the dregs of herbs. Silva handed the cup back to Tsubone. "There's no need to maintain it anymore. I have my own blade."
His hands are his blades.
"Yes, sir." Tsubone took the cup, refilled it with water, and handed it back. "There is one other piece of news."
"Speak."
"The Oldest Master has lifted the restriction, permitting the Eldest Young Master to pay respects to Master Zzigg."
"Did Father tell you this?"
"No." Tsubone looked deeply at Silva. "It was Master Maha." The old butler reported truthfully, "He instructed me to inform you. If you are dissatisfied, you are to go find him... and receive three whips yourself!"
Silva: "..."
He was silent for a long moment. "Understood."
Tsubone nodded, glanced at Kikyo who seemed to be stirring on the bed, bowed, and excused herself.
The door closed with a soft creak.
From inside, a voice called out, "Keep track of the time."
Tsubone replied, "Yes, sir." Her gaze drifted through the glass window to the monitor, lingering on the image of Roy carefully wiping his blade. A thought occurred to her.
The times are changing.
Braised pig's head, steamed fish, red-cooked chicken, freshly sliced sausage, salad with vinegar dressing, plus a bottle of red wine. With the help of the kitchen staff, Roy had managed to add the pig's head dish after all. Following the chef's suggestion, it was stewed with a seasoning packet, then cooled and soaked for two hours. Everything was arranged on a serving cart, ready for Gotoh to push, awaiting his great-great-grandfather's summons.
At 6:50 PM, the sun dipped below the horizon, and a pale moon appeared. Tsubone, her pink pigtails swinging, arrived.
She bowed, took over the cart from Gotoh, and said, "Young Master, if you please."
Roy didn't see Maha. He frowned. "Isn't Great-Great-Grandfather coming?"
"The Master is afraid Master Zzigg would be displeased, so he will not attend."
He's already dead. What does it matter if he's pleased or not?
Suspicious, Roy followed Tsubone. Master and servant walked down the long corridor toward the basement. The deeper they went, the darker and more desolate it became, the air growing colder.
Soon, a reinforced steel security door came into view.
Two butlers stood guard before it, both advanced in age. One had a scarred face and a yellowing mustache; the other had one eye and a missing hand. They saw Tsubone, nodded to her, then looked past her to Roy. The boy felt a chill, sensing a dangerous aura. It wasn't hostility, just the unintentional leakage of power from strong individuals.
"Scarface."
"One-Eye."
"We greet the Young Master."
The two placed their right hands over their chests and bowed to Roy.
Roy looked at them intently. "I haven't seen you before."
"Consider us dead, Young Master," Scarface and One-Eye replied succinctly. They straightened up, pulled open the security door, and gestured inside. "Please."
Their movements were crisp and efficient, clearly indicating they had no intention of further conversation. They closed their mouths and waited silently.
Seeing this, Roy stepped inside, followed by Tsubone who pushed the cart in after him.
"This is as far as I can take you, Young Master. Please proceed on your own."
Ahead lay a dark, deep passage. Two rows of eerie green ghost lights flickered on the stone walls, casting long, lonely shadows.
Standing there, Roy felt as if he had stepped back into the world of Demon Slayer, transported to the endless snowy plains. The hair on his arms stood on end.
Clang—! The security door slammed shut behind him.
He was alone. He had no choice but to brace himself and push the cart forward.
One step, two... the soles of his shoes scraped softly against the stone path. He passed through the tunnel and looked up to see a thick, airtight, moisture-proof door. The door was spotless, gleaming faintly with a metallic luster, clearly wiped down daily.
Roy thought of Scarface and One-Eye and glanced back. Klak... Klak...
Unexpectedly, the airtight door began to move, opening on its own. A massive tentacle snaked out, wrapped around the serving cart, and dragged it into the room. A second later, it tossed the cart back out. Looking closer, all the meat dishes were gone, leaving only some salad greens, apparently rejected with disdain.
"Zzigg... Grandpa?"
Is... is this really a memorial?
Roy was horrified. He instinctively reached for his sword, only to find empty air. He remembered he had left Snow-Walker on its stand.
In his moment of panic, the tentacle shot out again, faster than any of Silva's whip strikes. It wrapped around him and yanked him backward into the room.
Such powerful Ten! I can't even fight back!
His consciousness slipping away, the world spun around Roy. With his last shred of awareness, he looked... A giant eyeball, sprouting countless tentacles, was gazing at him kindly.
"It's my grandson. Activate [Re: Game of the Dead]..."
Dazed, Roy faintly heard an ancient voice. When he opened his eyes again, he was in a different world.
Before him, a colossal sandworm erupted from the earth, churning the clouds and letting out a terrifying shriek!
"ROOOOAR—!"
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