Yashima Chronicles 15. Interlude: Training (Patreon)

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Kinoue Hideyoshi had been among the elite of the elite of Lord Ota's forces. He had been born to a soldier serving in the Ota family's army. At a young age, his potential had been recognized, and he had been brought into the ranks of the Ota family's disciples. He had absorbed the lessons from the senior sword saints with dizzying speed. Once he was pronounced ready to represent the Ota family on the field of battle, he had thought that he was reaching the peak of magical prowess.

Then he'd seen her.

The trainees had been left alone in their camp. She'd gathered them together and encouraged them to meditate while she ventured into the woods to gather further training equipment. The quiet in the clearing had lasted exactly as long as it took for the others to decide she was out of earshot.

"Who is she?"

The men who hadn't seen her on the battlefield could be told, but they wouldn't understand.

"No one knows."

Even Hideyoshi couldn't say that he truly understood what he had seen.

"She appeared outside Kiyosu castle one day."

At least he knew more than what mere recitation of the facts could convey.

"It's the spirit of Yashima itself, pushing Lord Ota to glory."

Hideyoshi shook his head. He'd have liked to believe it, but in his heart he thought that the spirit of his beloved Yashima couldn't possibly possess such a lust for blood.

"She doesn't seem that impressive."

Hideyoshi shook his head again.

"You weren't there. It was like she barely even noticed that others were trying to fight back," Harumasa said, trying to explain. "Even Lord Imakama couldn't last more than two exchanges against her."

Hideyoshi had harbored his own doubts when she had first appeared. A small girl demanding to be shot with a rifle was the sort of image that stuck in a man’s mind, but he hadn't thought that it was anything other than an elaborate method to commit suicide. Then she'd cut the bullet out of the air.

The impossibilities had only grown from there.

He was grateful for the chance to learn from her. He would never have had such a chance if not for the Ota family's patronage. So far their training had mostly been in the form of being judged and found wanting, but he was certain that somebody with the sheer power that their teacher had shown would have a great many lessons in store for them.

He had heard some of the more wild rumors flying around Kiyosu Castle. The idea that she was some sort of bloodthirsty spirit certainly had some evidence to it, considering her obvious joy as she reveled in the carnage of the battlefield. On the other hand, she had arguably acted as a guardian angel, protecting the other sword saints in her squad throughout the most dangerous moments of battle. In the end, though, Hideyoshi didn't intend to quibble over the details. If she could teach him to be stronger, then it didn't matter if she was angel or devil.

The hushed gossip quieted down as the subject of their discussion came trotting back into the clearing. Hideyoshi blinked, then had to rub his eyes. While she was moving as casually as she had throughout their entire march here, her left hand was holding a boulder that was several times larger than she was. He could only imagine how much it weighed. She had it balanced on a single hand, the way he had seen some serving girls carry platters of food.

She reached the center of camp and tossed the boulder with a flick of a wrist. The solid thud as it hit the ground and immediately sank several inches deep put paid to any idea that this was a matter of trickery. Also, now that Hideyoshi took a better look, the boulder's proportions were unnaturally regular. It was a rectangular block that looked like it had been cut to size by a stonemason, rather than simply found on the side of a mountain path. He had to wonder if their teacher had carved it out of a mountainside.

"All right," she said, "it's early, and I'm still trying to figure out what you all can do. Can anybody lift this rock for me?"

A silence fell over the clearing. Hideyoshi glanced to the side and found his fellow trainees all studiously avoiding meeting their teacher's eyes. It was well known that sword saints tended to be stronger and faster than normal men, but the sort of ridiculous feats that one heard of in children's tales were of course impossible.

At least that was what Hideyoshi had believed. Seeing a rock that weighed three tons if it was an ounce, sitting innocently in the center of the clearing, he was starting to reevaluate what he had believed was possible.

"No takers, huh?" she said. She sighed, then hooked a toe under the rock and flipped it up into the air.

Hideyoshi could see her hand go to the hilt of the wooden sword that she always kept by her side. He could barely see a blur of motion that ensued. He had no hope of making out the individual sword strikes. He could see the results, though. Where one rock had been kicked up into the air, six stones struck the ground.

One was half the size of the original boulder. Another was half that size again. The third was half the size of the second. The fourth was half the size of the third. The fifth and sixth were each half the size of the fourth. She had cut the stone as cleanly and easily as a chef might chop tofu.

"Hideyoshi," she said.

He looked up to find her looking straight at him. As always, he felt a vague sense of pressure emanating out from her diminutive frame. He had the sense that she was looking through him more than she was looking at him. Still, he had his pride. Hideyoshi forced down the tremors in his hand and met his teacher's gaze.

"Take your pick," she said, gesturing at the rocks.

Hideyoshi stepped forward at her invitation. He took a moment to study the rocks on the ground. Pride told him to start with one of the larger rocks, but good sense counseled against it. He had done his share of work clearing rocks out of fields. It was back breaking labor that was usually done by a team using proper tools. He never would have tried to clear rocks this size by himself. To just lift them, though, he thought that was probably possible.

He stood over the rock at the end of the line, one of the pair of small rocks. He bent down at the knees and forced his fingers into the soft dirt around the stone. In order to lift something this heavy, he wanted to have a grip of its underside. Once he felt his fingertips touching the bottom corners, he set himself in the mindset of complete focus that usually let him draw on his mana, gripped as tightly as he could, and tried to stand.

It was hard. The rock weighed as much as he did, perhaps a little more. But Hideyoshi's will was unrelenting. It took a long moment, but he managed to straighten his legs and stand with the rock held off the ground. He swore he could feel his mana moving like never before as he held it there for several breaths. Finally he had to let it fall and took a quick step back, making sure the rock didn't crush his toes.

"Hmm," his teacher said, her tone carefree, albeit tinged with a note of disappointment. "I suppose lifting it over your head would be impossible."

Not trusting himself to speak, Hideyoshi replied with a nod.

She took in the information without comment, rubbing her chin in thought as she looked between the rocks gathered in the clearing and the men assigned to her command. Hideyoshi could feel his legs going a bit rubbery after the exertion he had put them through, but he managed to stand straight without betraying any weakness.

"I was hoping to use physical stress to squeeze the magical performance out of you guys," she said, "but there's no point if you can't carry enough weight to make it worthwhile."

Hideyoshi stared down at the rock that had caused him so much trouble. He hadn't suffered such crushing humiliation since his first few tentative steps down the path of becoming a sword saint. All he could do was curse his own weakness. If he had thought himself capable before, it was only proof of his own ignorance. The truth had been laid bare by this angel, or demon, who had decided to come to the aid of Lord Ota. All of his training had been nothing but the misguided fumblings of the blind leading the blind.

Now that he had the chance to learn from a true saint of the blade, he vowed to follow her every instruction to the letter and carry out her every command to the utmost of his ability. It was the least he could do in exchange for receiving this opportunity.

"Well," she said, "I guess I'll just have to get creative."

Despite all of his newfound fervor, Hideyoshi felt a chill run down his spine at that moment.

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