Yoemon lifted his katana, its blue blade dripping with water. This was magic.
'If my eyes aren't deceiving me...magic powered from the soul.'
The craftmanship of that sword...
Suddenly, it became all that much greater and sharper. Who forged it? It was obvious. Yoemon himself. Miyamoto Musashi was an esteemed swordsmith on top of being a swordsmaster. He passed on the vital skill to his students.
Only they could learn to harness their souls. Only they could complete themselves.
"Everything is within. Everything exists. Seek nothing outside of yourself."
Kazi said it out loud. Yoemon did not react to his great master's words, still catching his breath, his muscles tense and trembling from the overwhelming attack he had unleashed. Trees lay cleaved in a neat, devastating line through the forest behind Kazi. The older warrior glanced at his shattered katana, now little more than a handle and a few shards, before looking back at Yoemon with a sly smile.
