Curse Return: Swordsmith Start

Chapter 92 Zen Monastery Chief

The vulgar language made Fu Hei's fingers tighten.

Who is this guy? He can't be the head of the family, right? And... are all the people in the Zen family so foul-mouthed?

At this moment, he seemed to understand why Senior Yue had given him those things; could it be to deal with these guys...?

"Zen-in Naoya... This is none of your business, get out of the way."

Maki frowned, her expression calm. She was tired of hearing the other person's trash talk since she was a child.

If it were the old her, she might have swallowed her anger, but things are different now. In her eyes, this guy is just a spoiled, arrogant young master who is not worth her attention.

She wanted to continue forward, but Naoya took a step and blocked her way, his smile deepening.

"What do you mean 'unrelated'? You brought a bastard child with no surname back to the main family, swaggering in through the main gate, and you even call yourself the future head of the family? Ichimaki, have you been out there too long and forgotten your own name?"

Maki did not answer.

She simply placed her hand on the hilt of the knife, a gesture that was clearly intentional and meant to be seen by the other party.

Naoya glanced at it, but showed no fear whatsoever; his smile only deepened.

"What, are you going to make a move?"

He tilted his head.

"You? Haven't you come to terms with reality yet? A piece of trash who doesn't even have any magical power, you dare to fight me?"

Before she could finish speaking, Maki moved.

The sound of the knife popping out of its sheath was like a short bird's chirp.

The blade sliced ​​through the air, leaving a silvery arc as it headed straight for Naoya's neck.

However, the speed of this attack did not exceed the limit of the Naoya technique.

He didn't retreat, but simply turned to the side, a movement so fast that Fu Hei's eyes could barely keep up.

"Wow, this guy is fast! He's so young and already a level one warlock...?"

The blade grazed his neck, just missing him. Maki didn't stop. As the first strike missed, she turned her wrist and the blade sliced ​​horizontally. The second strike went from right to left, aiming for Naoya's waist.

Naoya shifted to the side again, this time even faster, so fast that Fushiguro could only see a blur.

The blade sliced ​​through the hem of his kimono, and a piece of fabric fluttered down, swirling on the ground between the two of them.

"Oh." Naoya's smile finally faded a bit. "No wonder you dared to be so arrogant and attack directly. You've gotten quite a bit stronger, haven't you?"

Maki didn't answer, but took a step forward, causing the floor to crack.

Naoya's eyes lingered for the first time. His shadow flickered, and Maki's sword was already slashing in front of him, but he didn't dodge, because he already knew the outcome—this attack wouldn't hit him.

"Projection Spell"

Another family technique of the Zen temple family involves dividing one second into 24 equal parts, using one's own field of vision as the field of view, and then imitating the actions that have been pre-designed within the field of vision.

Like a storyboard in an animation, as long as the flipping speed is fast enough, the actions can be so fast that they are unpredictable. Zenin Naohito, the current head of the Zenin family, possesses this technique. Thanks to his innate speed and mastery of timing, coupled with this spell, Naohito is known as the fastest spellcaster besides Gojo Satoru.

As his son, Zenin Naoya also inherited this technique and developed it quite well. At least in terms of speed, he was in a class of his own. Even Zenin Maki, who had already awakened the Heaven and Curse Binding, couldn't catch up with him in their first encounter.

"That's it?" Naoya's voice was full of contempt as he dodged the attack.

but.

Maki, on the other hand, smiled and loosened her grip on the hilt of the knife.

Naoya froze for a moment, and in that instant, Maki's fist had already smashed into his face.

The sound of a fist hitting the bridge of the nose echoed in the yard, like several dry tree branches snapping.

Naoya's head snapped back, his body falling backward. His wooden clogs left two white marks on the ground. He took three or four steps back before regaining his balance. He covered his nose with his fingers, blood flowing uncontrollably. His handsome face was disfigured by the punch.

He looked down at the blood on the ground, as if he were looking at something he didn't recognize.

"you--"

"What?" Maki picked up the knife from the ground, the tip hanging down, but her unwavering stance said it all.

"Did you think I used too much force? But I'm sorry, I was afraid that if I had used any more force your head might have exploded, so I only touched it lightly. It should be fine, right, cousin Naoya?"

Maki's face was full of arrogant smiles. The powerful Yue Ren had already listed the opponent's technique in the data. Knowing the principle, it would be a piece of cake for her, as the second generation "Heaven and Tyrant", to find a way to break it after a little probing.

Just as she said, if she hadn't used less force in that punch, Zenin Naoya's head would undoubtedly have been blown to bits by now.

Naoya's face changed; that lazy smile completely disappeared, replaced by something very pure—killing intent.

As the son of the head of the Zen family, Zenin Naokon, and the youngest genius of the Zen family, his strong sense of pride made it impossible for him to tolerate such humiliation.

"I'll kill you!"

His shadow began to sway, and the projection spell was running at full speed.

Gathering its strength to move forward, that step was so fast that the air seemed to whistle.

Then, a wine jug suddenly flew over from the other end of the corridor.

The wine pot is made of porcelain and is not large, just big enough to hold in one hand.

It flew at a slow speed, but its trajectory landed right in Naoya's arms, causing him to stop in his tracks and catch the object.

The three of them turned their heads at the same time, and an old man was standing at the end of the corridor.

It was obvious that he was the one who threw the wine jug.

He wore a loosely draped kimono, wooden clogs, and a sake cup in his hand. His hair, eyebrows, and beard were all white, but his eyes, though seemingly unfocused, revealed a sharp edge.

"What's all the noise about?"

His voice wasn't loud, but everyone present could hear it clearly.

He walked unsteadily toward us, as if he were drunk.

All that could be heard was the sound of wooden clogs hitting the wooden floor.

Naoya's blood dripped from his nose and onto the bluestone slab on the ground, spreading into a small dark red patch.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the passing Naobi man didn't look at him. He simply took back the wine flask from his arms and took another sip.

The old man's gaze passed over him, landing on Maki, and then on Fushiguro.

"You've arrived? What a rare guest!"

The tone was as if saying, "The weather is nice today."

Fu Hei paused for a moment, unsure how to respond.

Maki sheathed her sword with a crisp sound. "Ah, here I come, Master."

Is this the head of the Zen-in family?

Naoki nodded, then turned to look at Naoya. He showed no blame or anger, but simply gestured for Naoya to leave.

Naoya pursed his lips, removed his fingers from his nose, shook the blood off his hands, and turned to leave.

He took a few steps and then stopped, glancing back at Fu Hei. There was too much in that glance for Fu Hei to discern, but there was one thing he recognized—hatred.

Fuhei stood there, watching the figure disappear at the end of the corridor.

The Naobi man walked over and stopped in front of him. The old man was about the same height as him. As he approached, a strong smell of alcohol hit his nostrils, causing Fukuro, who did not usually drink, to frown.

Such a change in expression obviously could not be hidden from the old man.

"Ha, still such a young little guy..."

'

"Are you Fushiguro Megumi?" Naobi asked.

"Yes."

Zhikun nodded, turned and walked towards the other end of the corridor. After taking two steps, he stopped and looked back at the two of them.

"Come on in, let's go inside and talk."

Maki and the other girl exchanged a glance, then followed.

The corridor was long. The Gibi man walked at the front, his steps light and unsteady as if he were about to fall at any moment, his wooden clogs making a clattering sound on the wooden floor.

Maki followed behind, while Fushiguro brought up the rear.

We passed one courtyard after another on both sides, each one quieter than the last.

The last room is at the very back.

Pushing open the door, inside there was only a low table, a tea set, and tatami mats.

Naobi casually sat down, pointed to the seat opposite him, Fushiguro sat down, and Maki sat down a little behind him.

Then the screen next to them was pushed aside, and a woman in a kimono came to pour tea for them. After she finished, she silently withdrew again.

"Why did you suddenly come back? I remember your previous ambitions, you didn't give up so quickly, did you? Hahaha..."

Both of them knew who he was talking to. At Maki's prompting, Fushiguro, who had been silent until now, spoke up.

"I want to become the head of the Zen temple."

'

'

The laughter of the Jibi people came to an abrupt halt.

He held the teacup, but didn't drink; he just stared at the tea inside. "Anything else?"

"Let Maki-senpai take over Bing's position, leaving him and his body behind."

The Naobi nodded, put down his teacup, leaned against the wall behind him, and closed his eyes.

Fu Hei thought he was thinking about something, but after a while, the old man opened his eyes and said something unrelated.

"Who sent you, Gojo Satoru?"

"no."

The Giobaku man grinned, clearly not believing it.

"You certainly have great potential, and you are of Zen family blood, possessing 'ten shadow spells,' but what do you think is most important if you want to become the head of a family of spellcasters with a thousand-year history?"

"strength."

"That's right, it's about ability. Do you think you have that kind of ability right now?"

The aura of a veteran first-class sorcerer suddenly pressed down, but what shocked Naobi was that neither Maki nor the black-haired boy in front of him changed in the face of his aura, which was enough to make any Zenin family member tremble, as if they were already used to it.

This change made the old man realize that his two younger generations were clearly very different in some ways.

Fushiguro and Maki said that this level of momentum was nothing. When Echizen helped them train, the pressure and killing intent they faced were much stronger than this. For people who have already experienced hell, this level of pressure is just a drop in the ocean.

"Are you the strongest member of this family?"

"Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have become the head of the family."

"For the Zen family, a powerful sorcerer is the only one who can make them submit."

As he said this, he glanced at Maki standing to the side.

"Then please gather all the members, and I'll fight you. If I win, you can make me the head of the family, how about that?"

Fushiguro Megumi didn't beat around the bush. After confirming that the old man wasn't unreasonable, she directly stated her thoughts.

"

Hahaha, good lad, you've got guts! But it's definitely a simple and brutal plan.

"Do you want to make five realizations?"

"Yes."

He shook his head. "You can't become Gojo Satoru. Gojo Satoru is a monster; one in a thousand years is enough."

He looked into Fu Hei's eyes.

"But you might become someone else, someone who can support the Zen family to continue on its path."

"I don't know if you're bluffing or not, but that doesn't matter... I can do whatever you want, and I believe reality will give me the answer."

Hearing this, Fushiguro Megumi was somewhat surprised, but she still nodded cautiously.

"thank you."

The Naobi didn't respond, but instead knocked on the floor. The door behind Fushiguro and the others opened, and a man bowed in obedience.

"Gather all members at the training ground. All key members must be present. You have half an hour."

"yes!"

After saying this, the man respectfully closed the door and left.

"When the old king dies, a new king rises. This is an unchanging law. The world of sorcerers is even more cruel, so power is necessary and the most important thing. As long as you can prove your power, what does it matter if you are given the power and status of the leader?"

"If you are truly capable, my face would be the perfect stepping stone for new hope."

Zen Monastery Chief Zen Master isn't a good person, but as the head of the family, he's certainly competent. He'd do anything to make the family stronger and ensure its continuation.

".....Feel sorry."

"Hahaha, so you're still too green, kid. If you want to become Gojo Satoru, you don't need to apologize, and you don't need to care about the trivial things around you. Let those things know that if they don't want to disappear meaninglessly, they should consciously avoid your path. That's what a strong person is, that's what Gojo Satoru is."

..Understood."

Fushiguro nodded solemnly.

Naobi smiled slightly.

"Alright, let's go then. Let me see just how big a surprise you've got in store."

The old man stood up, walked to the door, and opened it.

Sunlight streamed in, illuminating the entire room. At the end of the corridor, there were shadowy figures moving about, more than one.

The Naobi turned and glanced at Fushiguro. "Let's go. It's time to show them what you're made of."

Megumi Fushiguro and Maki stood up and followed him again.

The Zen family suddenly mobilized today. The bell rang, and the order was given to all members within the clan to go to the training ground.

"What? An order from the patriarch? Why would he give such a strange order?"

"Maki? That guy actually came back?"

"Shen'er's son is also here. What does the patriarch intend to do?"

"I don't know, but such a big fuss doesn't feel like a good thing..."

'

"6

'

The mobilization order from the Zen family spread throughout the entire mansion in less than twenty minutes.

It wasn't because they were efficient, but because the Zhikun people's special order was so unusual that it piqued their interest.

At this moment, the huge training ground was already surrounded by people dressed in all sorts of outfits—suits, kimonos, robes, training clothes—but their expressions were all surprisingly consistent: confusion.