By the day after the match, Sansui was already able to get up and move about.
Under normal circumstances, the loss of a hand would be considered a severe injury. Even with the bleeding stopped, the whole body would run hot, and one would be unable to stand properly for some time. However, the body of an Immortal, refined through long years of training, remained youthful and vigorous. Thus, after receiving proper treatment and sleeping for a single night, most of the fatigue had already vanished.
Once on his feet—and having largely recovered—Sansui headed out to visit Lloyd.
Flipping him upside down, stomping on his jaw, pinning him against the floor, using Quivering Feet... Thinking about it now, maybe I overdid it.
Considering that Lloyd had eaten Divine Ginseng and possessed noble treasures that mitigated impact, he’d probably still suffered lighter injuries than Sansui, who had lost a hand. Of course, it was hard to compare loss of limb with a blow to the head in the first place.
There was no margin for error.
Avoiding predictability, always keeping multiple options—those were principles Sansui had learned and taught. Yet when the moment came, only one way to defeat Lloyd had appeared in his mind. There had been only one answer—one attack that could fell him, one that could have cost his own life. Sansui felt ashamed of that weakness.
Still, it was fun.
They had both met and fought only yesterday, and that alone made their relationship feel too fleeting to simply end there. The order of these events might have been unconventional, but he wanted to talk properly. With that in mind, Sansui went to find Lloyd.
His destination was farmland. The men who had worn warrior monk garb the day before were now in their usual farmer attire, diligently tending the fields. Yet this was no ordinary farmwork. Vast arrays of gears, manipulated by many practitioners, tore into the earth, carving and turning it over. They were plowing fields using actual wheels—crushing the ground with a force impossible for human or animal labor alone, much like the agricultural machines Sansui knew from his previous world.
“Ahh...”
There was no village that did nothing but celebrate festivals, nor one that did nothing but fight. The practitioners of the Rapid Iron Style worked steadily, cooperating in orderly fashion as they tilled the land.
I see... So this is how it’s mainly used.
Nodding to himself, Sansui watched the agricultural work. He had already spotted Lloyd, but hesitated to interrupt him while he was working, choosing instead to simply observe the large-scale operation.
Then someone noticed him and came running. It was a group of children—and judging by their appearance and presence, young practitioners of the Rapid Iron Style.
“Hey! A Tengu!”
“A Tengu, a Tengu! It’s the Tengu our dad defeated!”
Children about the same age as Lain, or perhaps slightly older, clustered around him, pointing at Sansui.
“H-Hey—don’t be rude! This is the disciple of the Great Tengu Suiboku!”
“Eh? But Dad got praised by the Great Tengu, and that guy was the one who passed out, right?”
“A Tengu who can only use Immortal Arts can’t beat our dad, an eighth-rank Rapid Iron Style practitioner!”
“He was dumb to try—Tengu should just stick to making noble treasures like proper Tengu!”
“Y-You idiots! Shut up! I’m really sorry, Lord Sansui. My younger brothers and sisters said something very rude!”
Naturally, there were children in this village, and these ones seemed to belong to Lloyd.
“I told them properly that our father lost...but since he came home perfectly fine after being healed with Divine Ginseng, they won’t listen—they insist that Dad won.” One of the children spoke.
“No, no—I don’t mind at all. In a way, it was indeed a loss on my part.”
“Please don’t say that. Hearing that hurts my father more than anyone.”
It seemed that this boy—the eldest son—had been present to witness the fight between Sansui and his father. Because of that, he treated Sansui with genuine respect.
“Hey, you lot—go home.”
“B-But Dad got tons of rewards...”
“Yeah! The Great Tengu said he’d make all sorts of stuff for us...”
“We’re gonna brag to our friends!”
“Shut it! I’ll tell Dad!”
At that, the children scattered. Once things had calmed enough to talk properly, the eldest son cast a hesitant glance up at Sansui.
“Um. Are you not...disappointed?”
His opening words were apologetic.
“I-I mean, I heard you trained every day for five hundred years. Under Lord Suiboku—the one who even defeated Lord Fukei with ease. And yet, the man who fought you yesterday spends most of his days doing farmwork...”
“I’m not disappointed at all. If anything, I’m happy.”
“How can you say that?!”
Apparently, to the boy, farmwork was not something admirable. In that sense, his outlook was fairly ordinary—he likely yearned for the extraordinary world beyond the village.
“You, um, serve a king somewhere in Arcana or something, right? As a swordsman?”
“Yes. Something like that.”
“Yeah, I knew it. That’s amazing... You’re the disciple of the legendary raging god, after all.”
Being Suiboku’s disciple carried considerable weight, it seemed. The boy didn’t appear particularly surprised that Sansui held an important post in the outside world.
“So doesn’t it frustrate you? Having your arm cut off by a guy who just works on a farm all day?”
“Farming is a very important job. It may not be rare and exciting, since so many people do it—but it’s honest work, nothing to be ashamed of.”
“That’s what the other Tengu always say.”
He looked faintly resentful, as though he had hoped for a different answer from Sansui. Perhaps he had wanted Sansui to take his father out of the village and recommend him to a ‘king.’ Certainly, that would have been an appealing dream.
“He works alongside everyone else to support his family. That makes him a fine father, does it not?”
“I’m grateful for that. But still—he’s so strong. It feels like a waste.”
“He truly is strong. The reason I don’t feel ashamed of my injury is because it wasn’t due to my own shortcomings, but because your father was a formidable opponent. If he left this village, he would do himself and his family proud.”
Sansui offered his praise without a trace of flattery—straight from the heart.
“Then—”
“However, if he worked in the outside world, he might be forced into battles against his will. Considering that, staying here isn’t such a bad choice.”
“Ahh... Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d say something else.”
“If you wish to leave this village one day, I won’t discourage you. But you mustn’t force that desire onto your father.”
“Yes...”
It felt cruel to dampen the dreams of a boy who longed to see his father in a glamorous role—but not everything important in life was necessarily glamorous.
“And besides, training day in and day out isn’t always something admirable either.”
Sansui recalled the impact he had felt just yesterday. He also remembered the times his master had brought him Coiled Peaches and Divine Ginseng.
“I’m a man who’s only good at fighting... Unlike the Tengu of this village, I don’t contribute anything useful to everyday life. Because of that, my employer often calls me a boring man.”
Thinking back, it had always been that way. He had never trained because he wanted to be useful to someone, or to make someone happy. At the beginning, his motivation had been nothing more than a desire to put on airs. He wanted to use his strength to obtain money, women, status, and fame.
As his training continued, those desires faded, and before he knew it, his days were spent chasing after his master’s back. Rather than maturing, perhaps he had become like a child—someone who never questioned the absolute authority of a parent. With that mindset, there was no way he could acquire skills that brought joy to others, made people happy, or were of practical use.
He had somehow ended up in a position where he taught swordsmanship, but even that was only possible with the help of those around him. He hadn’t advertised himself, secured funding, recruited students, or arranged positions for his disciples on his own.
Thinking about it that way, he couldn’t help but feel inferior. A man whose only talent was fighting was, in the end, rather useless.
“Boring, huh...? From my point of view, my dad’s the boring one...”
Sansui’s words didn’t reach Lloyd’s eldest son. And Lloyd himself, having noticed Sansui and stepped away from the farmwork, wore much the same expression.
“Lord Sansui... You’ve already recovered?”
“Yes. I received excellent treatment.”
Saying that, Sansui deliberately removed his prosthetic arm for display. At the sight of it, Lloyd flinched slightly. Perhaps he had forgotten that he’d severed it—or perhaps he hadn’t remembered at all. Or maybe he’d assumed Sansui had been healed with Divine Ginseng. In any case, Lloyd was clearly startled by the sight of Sansui missing a forearm.
“I’ve fully recovered already.”
“It seems so.”
Seeing Sansui’s unshadowed smile, Lloyd smiled in return.
“My son didn’t say anything rude, did he?”
“No, not at all. We just had a bit of a conversation.”
“I can guess what you talked about.”
Lloyd looked a little embarrassed in his work clothes. He had his pride, and likely hadn’t wanted Sansui to see him like this. Yet changing clothes would have been embarrassing as well, so he continued as he was.
“The medicinal effects of the Divine Ginseng are truly remarkable. Not long after the match ended, I regained consciousness. By then, it was nothing more than a bit of pain in my jaw and head... Enough that I can work like this already.”
A festival was just a festival—nothing more than play. Letting it interfere with real life would be putting the cart before the horse. That was why being able to work the next day mattered so much. As a father, it was only natural. And yet, he still felt a sense of loneliness about it.
“It was as if I’d woken from a dream. I certainly fought you, and yet nothing remains. As though nothing had happened, I’ve returned to my everyday life like this... It makes me feel strangely wistful.”
It had been a truly enjoyable match. Precisely because of that, he hadn’t wanted it to be just a dream. He’d wanted something—anything—to remain in this moment.
“On a body that will live for thousands of years to come, I left a wound. It’s not something I should be happy about, but... No, I am happy.”
“So am I.”
Having endured such a fierce battle, the two of them wanted, because of that, to leave behind a token of friendship.
“It may be wrong of me to say, but...I feel a little sad that you are unharmed.”
“I feel the same, Lord Sansui. I’m glad you weren’t.”
They had shared a brief, joyful break from the ordinary in their lives. Watching the two of them face each other, Lloyd’s son found that the work clothes he usually disliked seeing his father in now looked somehow admirable.