Six months had passed since Yami's encounter with the demon, and quite a lot of things had happened in these past six months.
A week after Ichigaro had left and Yami had fully healed, he began the most brutal training a man could possibly have undergone. During the process of training, Yami discovered quite a few things.
Yami had found that his physique was indeed miraculous, as Ichigaro had said.
He did not know if it was because of the transmigration or something else, but he felt as if his entire body structure had changed. Even as a child, Yami had been strong. He had occasionally joined his father in chopping wood and in forging when his father worked as a blacksmith.
But after the incident, Yami discovered that his strength had increased manifold—and that was not the limit of it. He could feel and see that his strength would continue to rise. In these past six months, Yami had trained incessantly, and each day his strength and physique would reach new heights. Be it injuries or his lost strength after a gruesome training, Yami would recover quickly. He was monstrously strong.
And this change in body structure was not limited to his physical strength only. His mind had also undergone a transformation—a massive change. His perception of things, his understanding of things, his clarity regarding certain matters had improved drastically.
. . .
Yami was standing with a calm look on his face in the forest, facing a tree. In his hands was a one-sided axe made of steel. Although Yami was not a master blacksmith, he had learned the basics from his father, and using that knowledge he had forged this axe. The axe was neither too short nor too long. Its height, including the blade and the handle, reached up to his waist—a suitable length for him to wield it easily. Additionally, he had tried to make it as heavy as he could for that size.
As he stood facing the tree, Yami took deep breaths, and the air started to move in a systematic and rhythmic manner as he breathed it in.
He sucked a large amount of air into his lungs and raised the axe. Both of his hands, which had been holding the axe, were fully extended to his right side as he gripped it tightly.
"Total Concentration Breathing: Iron Breathing – First Form: Wheel Barrow," Yami muttered as he swung his axe in a horizontal circular motion.
A sharp sheet of iron emerged at the tip of the axe's blade and formed a circular wheel along the motion of the axe. The edge of the wheel struck the massive tree, and in no time, the trunk was cleanly sliced in two.
But that was not the end of it, as the force of the strike continued after splitting the tree; it split the air and struck another tree. The second tree, though, was not sliced—instead, a deep wedge had formed in it.
"I am ready," muttered Yami to himself with a calm look on his face.
. . .
Yami had been waiting for this day for the past six months. He had trained non-stop in a brutal manner—so as to become a demon slayer. He was going to hunt and kill every demon out there. He was going to strike fear into the hearts of the demons. He might have hesitated if he had been an average boy, but after he had discovered the miraculous changes in himself, his resolve had only hardened.
He had spent his past six months cutting wood in the forest to earn a living for himself, which had inspired him to create his breathing technique. He had been aware of the basic principles of total concentration breathing from his past life, and coupled with his enhanced IQ and perception, he had created his iron breathing.
Initially, he had not been too hopeful—but he proved to be successful. It might not have been successful in his previous life, but since the laws of this world allowed such a thing to exist, Yami had been able to replicate it.
This had happened three months ago, but Yami found a flaw in his breathing style. Although Iron Breathing gave him immense strength, he did not have much speed.
And he understood very well that, many times, to deal with demons, speed is more necessary than strength; hence, he had worked hard and created another form of breathing.
And if one talked about speed, nothing was faster than light. He had taken inspiration from the sunlight when it fell on the snow-covered mountains, on the flowing streams, on the calm lake, and on the sky-high trees. He took inspiration from the beam of light when it erupted from the night torch. But so far, he had only been able to create a single form in his Light Breathing, and it seemed that after that, he was struck with a block.
He had also hoped that by trying to understand the light from the sun, he might also be able to get some insights into the legendary Sun Breathing, but so far, he had been unsuccessful in this as well.
Meanwhile, his Iron Breathing, so far, consisted of three forms.
But he was not worried—it had not been many days since he had mastered Light Breathing. He would soon add other forms to it and would probably be able to combine it with Iron Breathing.
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