After the elimination round concluded, all advancing contestants were granted a one-day break. The purpose? Promotion. From this point on, the main tournament matches would be open to public spectators, turning the next stage into a golden opportunity for rising samurai to make their names known.
The moment Gekkō Hoshiyomi exited the venue, he was immediately swarmed by a crowd. His performance in the qualifiers had already attracted the attention of several major dojos—but at the time, most assumed he'd just gotten lucky against weak opponents.
But now, after watching him pass the elimination round—still looking barely older than a genin—those same observers were beginning to panic. His talent stood out like a firefly in the night; you didn't need Sharingan to see it.
Rumors were already swirling: Hoshiyomi had won his match without even drawing his blade.
That tipped things over the edge. Even the Land of Iron's General's Residence had quietly labeled him a dark horse contender.
At the moment, a growing mob of recruiters, nobles, and scouts surrounded him from every direction:
"Brother Kenshin! We of the Harukanami Dojo have great admiration for your skills. Would you honor us by visiting our dojo for a formal discussion?"
"Kenshin-dono! The eldest daughter of the Genpo Clan is as beautiful as she is noble. Upon hearing of your swordsmanship, she wishes to meet you personally. How about a candlelit dinner?"
The offers grew more exaggerated by the second. Soon, the rival recruiters started turning on each other.
"Harukanami Dojo? That third-rate school? They'll be bankrupt in two years. They dare to invite Kenshin-sama? Shameless!"
"And the Genpo girl? Covered in acne and you call her a national beauty? Pfft!"
The argument devolved into a loud, chaotic squabble. Onlookers began to gather, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
The yelling escalated to the brink of a sword fight—until someone whispered:
"Wait… where did Kenshin-dono go?"
Only then did they realize the center of all this fuss—Himura Kenshin—was already gone.
Around the corner, Hoshiyomi exchanged a glance with Lobo, then strode off.
Drifting back on the wind was a single muttered word:
"Psychos…"
As Hoshiyomi advanced further in the tournament, scenes like this were bound to repeat.
Not that he cared. He had no intention of accepting any of those offers. Better to check something that actually mattered—like how much experience Furukawa Yūichirō had earned him.
Back at the inn, Hoshiyomi opened the Sword Heart System.
Intermediate Swordmanship: 311/500
Reviewing the system logs:
Battle vs. [unnamed prelim opponent]: +1 XP
Battle vs. Furukawa Yūichirō: +7 XP
Nice!
Furukawa's strength was around the level of a special jōnin, and that single match had netted Hoshiyomi 7 points.
And with at least five more matches to go—against opponents equal to or even stronger than Furukawa—he estimated he could easily earn 60–70 XP. Maybe even 100, if things went well.
Advanced Swordmanship was just around the corner!
Hoshiyomi's blood ignited with excitement.
Alright, new goal: unlock the Sixth Gate AND master Advanced Swordmanship at the same time!
Can't wait to see how strong I'll be in that state…
"Lobo! Get on my back—we're training. Start counting!"
The black wolf looked at him with a confused expression.
My master's acting weirder than usual today…
…
For the people of the Land of Iron's capital, the next three days were as exciting as the New Year Festival.
These were the public rounds of the Kenjutsu Tournament, where the top 50 sword prodigies would battle to determine who was the strongest of the new generation.
For just 100 ryo, spectators could watch the fiercest, most talented young samurai clash in high-stakes combat. Many had waited five years for this moment—and they were not about to miss it.
On the day of the event, the city was practically empty—its entire population had gathered at the tournament arena.
Thousands lined up before dawn just to secure the best seats.
Day 1's match schedule:
Round of 50 → 25
Round of 25 → 16
After a brief opening speech from the host, Hoshiyomi and the other contestants were led into the main arena. The fifty of them stood in a row as thunderous cheers erupted from the stands.
Even seasoned fighters blushed from the overwhelming energy of the crowd.
Hoshiyomi, however, remained calm and composed.
Please. I've paraded through the Fire Country's capital. This is nothing.
As matches proceeded one by one, it was soon Hoshiyomi's turn.
He patted Lobo on the head, signaling the wolf to wait quietly on the sidelines, and stepped up onto the platform.
Despite the Land of Iron's martial culture, its people still appreciated aesthetics—and Hoshiyomi's handsome appearance and graceful aura instantly drew the gaze of many young women.
When the host announced his name—"Himura Kenshin"—the cheers from the female audience reached a new peak.
His opponent glanced at him with a mixture of envy and bitterness. But those who had made it this far were all tough-minded warriors; no one was dumb enough to let popularity cloud their judgment.
After a respectful bow, the match began.
What surprised everyone was that Hoshiyomi still didn't draw his sword.
Even the announcer couldn't help but shout:
"In all his previous matches, Kenshin has never drawn his blade.
And now, even in the main tournament, he refuses to unsheath it?
Is this overconfidence—or part of some greater plan?
Let's find out!"
His opponent clearly took this as an insult. With a cold snort, he lunged forward—his blade becoming a flurry of afterimages. An incredibly fast, aggressive assault.
Hoshiyomi could feel the pressure. This opponent was definitely at least jōnin level in taijutsu. If he had a chakra-enhanced kenjutsu style to match, he'd be a full-fledged high-level opponent.
But that only made Hoshiyomi more determined.
If I can defeat someone like this without drawing my sword… I bet I'll get bonus experience.
Dodging and countering with only his sheath and footwork, Hoshiyomi struggled slightly—but held his ground.
His opponent growled:
"Still not drawing your sword? You'll die at this rate!"
"Crimson Blade Style – Scorching Flame!"
Suddenly, his chakra surged—his blade glowing red-hot. Even from a few meters away, Hoshiyomi could feel the heat radiating off it.
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin