I suppose the simplest way of putting it was that I learned how to suppress unwanted emotion.
“Hah! Yah! Ho!”
In an alternate reality where complete isolation was just part of life, I continued to swing my sword.
One hundred thousand years later.
Recently, I’d started turning my attention toward things other than swordcraft. I’d become particularly enthusiastic about cooking. The art of cooking was extraordinarily deep. You could accomplish a surprising variety of things from the way you wielded your knife alone.
I focused silently in front of my cutting board.
“Eighth Style—Eight-Span Crow!”
My blade danced through the air as I performed eight rapid slash attacks in less than a second, carving the fish on the cutting board into eight slices.
I coated the perfectly fresh sashimi with soy sauce before taking a bite.
“That’s delicious!”
Afterward, I used some cookbooks in the library to study a variety of culinary techniques. I learned how to chop food into half circles, large chunks, and thin rectangles. There were many cutting skills I was unfamiliar with.
If I can translate this to my fighting style, I’m sure I’ll come up with some great moves!
Filled with anticipation and excitement, I devoted myself to strict training with the knife.
One million years later.
Long story short, it didn’t work out as I expected.
Cooking and swordcraft were two very different disciplines. That should be pretty obvious. No matter how fast I got at chopping vegetables, that skill wasn’t going to translate to anything else.
It was Dodriel I needed to defeat, not a cabbage.
I can’t believe how much time I wasted…
I felt like I was going a little crazy.
That wasn’t really surprising. I had been honing my blade alone in an empty world with no human contact for one million years, all while suppressing my emotions.
“Haaah…”
I took a deep breath to center my mind and body.
…I’m fine. I still have plenty of time. There’s no need to panic yet.
I still had ninety-nine million years left. That was a hard fact.
All right…I’m going to make the most of my remaining time!
After renewing my resolve, I once again set down the path of swordcraft.
Ten million years later.
I’d devised a new method of training, the art of “fighting oneself.”
By simply closing my eyes and focusing my mind, I would see my own form emerge on the backs of my eyelids.
My other self assumed the middle stance, pointing his sword toward my eyes. He radiated tremendous malice.
His fundamentals were as perfect as could be, so his guard was flawless.
I mirrored him by assuming the middle stance as well. We charged at each other the moment our eyes met, as if that were an agreement we had reached beforehand.
““Hah!””
Our swords screeched and sent sparks flying as they violently collided.
Unsurprisingly, our skills were completely equal. We were both intimately familiar with the other’s swordplay and had a full understanding of our opponent’s weaknesses. Our grueling duels would never conclude.
My swordcraft had achieved a new level of intensity.
Fifty million years later.
Around the halfway mark to one hundred million years, I began to feel a mounting sense of frustration.
I had spent fifty million years—an extraordinarily long time—devoting myself to my blade. Despite my lack of talent, I was pretty sure that I had become a bit stronger.
But could I really defeat that prodigy right now?
Dodriel Barton was the kind of genius who only came around once a century. He was a student of the Autumn Rain School of Swordcraft, a style famous even in the capital, and I’d heard he was one of the very best.
His slender physique belied his significant strength. He was capable of wielding a variety of swords, regardless of type, with such grace that they seemed like an extension of his body. Additionally, his innate talent allowed him to reproduce any move after glimpsing it just once. There wasn’t a single person in the area who had not heard the name Dodriel. He was undoubtedly the greatest swordsman at Grand Swordcraft Academy.
I’m still not good enough.
There was something still missing in my blade. It could have been a state of mind, experience, intimidation factor—I didn’t yet know what it was.
But I know I’m missing the special something I need to beat Dodriel…
I still had fifty million years… Actually, I only had fifty million years.
Now that I was thinking about it, the first fifty million years had really passed by in a flash. It felt like it was just the previous day that I’d pushed the 100-Million-Year Button.
I need to hurry!
“Hah! Yah! Ho!”
Spurred by a sense of panic, I devoted my undivided attention to my daily training regime. I practiced with demonic intensity, now investing every waking moment into my swordcraft with total disregard for day and night.
Dammit! Time is moving too fast…
Time is a mysterious thing. The harder one concentrates, the faster it moves. The tendency for time to move faster when you’re having fun is a well-known phenomenon.
So close— Time is short; I just need a little longer— Time always seems to accelerate when you think along those lines.
I swung my sword single-mindedly, and before I knew it, the end arrived.
The clock in the sky finally struck Year 099999999 Month 12 Day 31 23:59:59. The next second, the world began to collapse slowly.
“It’s over…”
The white house and the giant clock began to slowly disappear into white particles.
I was being returned to the real world.
Please, one more go, just one more time is all I need… I want another one hundred million years…
I was positive that I was on the verge of unlocking the special something I needed to beat Dodriel. It felt just beyond my grasp.
Shit! I only needed a little longer…
A feeling of dissatisfaction tormented me as the world was utterly destroyed.
“Huh…?”
When I came to, I was standing in a nostalgic place. I recognized it as the forest I trained in over one hundred million years ago. I looked up and saw the sun. It was shining brightly, right where it was supposed to be. I had returned to reality.
“Hyo-hoh-hoh! How was it? How do you feel after practicing for one hundred million years?” the Time Hermit asked me cheerfully while clapping his hands together.
“I feel strange…”
My body didn’t really feel that different. My mind was just a little hazy.
“Did I actually train for one hundred million years…?”
My brain felt sluggish, as if I had awoken from a very long sleep. I found myself wondering if the 100-Million-Year Button and the strange alternate world were both just a dream.