In the forest, Koushirou demonstrated to Ron what it meant to be a sword master capable of cutting through iron.
With just a wooden stick, he effortlessly sliced a boulder larger than Ron into two clean halves, the cut perfectly smooth.
"This is the slash of a sword master," Koushirou said, smiling at Ron, as always, while the boulder behind him slowly slid apart.
"A sword master's slash moves at will. If one wishes to cut, even a dull wooden stick can split through steel. If one does not, even a sharp sword like your Raikiri cannot cut through a sheet of paper."
Back at the warehouse, Ron was still replaying Koushirou's words in his mind.
"A slash at will…" he murmured, sitting in the moonlit warehouse while gently caressing Raikiri on his lap. It felt as though he had grasped something, but at the same time, nothing at all.
"I'm still far from the level of a sword master," Ron thought, "but I can feel that I'm close to reaching the first stage—'Force.'"
"During today's battle, I felt like I brushed against it. Now, all I need to do is recapture that sensation."
Ron closed his eyes, allowing the Sun Breathing Technique to work unconsciously.
This technique, the progenitor of all breathing methods, was helping Ron in ways he couldn't yet fully comprehend.
He spent the entire night in deep thought.
The next morning, as the sun rose, Ron opened his eyes and softly smiled, "I've found it."
He slowly drew Raikiri from its scabbard, and a faint, barely noticeable red glow began to envelop his body. As the sword slid free, the red aura extended from the hilt, spreading along the blade, eventually covering it entirely.
"This is… 'Force,'" Ron murmured, gazing at the sword now bathed in red light.
Several months passed in the blink of an eye.
Spring gave way to summer, and the scorching heat made training at the dojo even more grueling. But for those who sought strength, this hardship was more than welcome.
Zoro had completely turned into a training fanatic, challenging Kuina daily, pulling heavy stones under the trees, and running long distances with people on his back. Recently, in his effort to perfect the Three-Sword Style, he even began training his jaw to hold the third sword in his mouth.
He had gone from challenging Kuina three times a day, to five times a day, and now up to ten times a day.
His current record stood at 1045:0—he had never won a single match.
After Zoro's most recent defeat in another challenge against Kuina, a dojo disciple named Umi walked up to the fallen Zoro, smiling, "Looks like it's now 1046 to zero."
"Shut up!" Zoro retorted.
Another disciple asked, "Zoro, why do you always challenge Kuina? Why not challenge Ron once?"
At the mention of Ron's name, Umi shuddered, remembering a past event that still haunted him months later.
"Are you stupid?" Zoro replied, giving the disciple a look as if he were an idiot. "Even Kuina can't beat Ron, and I can't even defeat Kuina. There's no way I could win against him."
"I'm challenging Kuina, not volunteering for a beating," he added, leaving the disciple speechless.
"So," Zoro said, getting back on his feet and dusting off his clothes, his eyes filled with determination, "before I challenge Ron, I have to beat Kuina at least once!"
On this day, Kuina retrieved her Wado Ichimonji from the warehouse and approached Ron, asking for a real sword duel.
"Sure," Ron agreed with a smile.
After just three moves, Wado Ichimonji was knocked from Kuina's hand, and she fell to the ground.
"Damn it!" she cursed in frustration. "Why can't I stop your attacks?"
"Because I'm stronger," Ron replied, bending down to pick up her sword and handing it back to her. "You've improved a lot. If we had dueled with real swords when I first arrived at the dojo, you probably wouldn't have even been able to block one of my strikes."
"But you've only been here a few months and already reached the 'Force' stage, while I've been practicing swordsmanship since I was a child and still haven't touched that realm…" Kuina said, dejected, as she took the Wado Ichimonji and walked away, feeling downhearted.
Watching her leave, an idea suddenly came to Ron's mind, and he called out, "Have you thought about creating your own sword techniques?"
Kuina turned, looking puzzled.
"It's just a thought," Ron explained, holding Raikiri. "Maybe by creating your own techniques, you'll find your way to 'Force.'"
Kuina's eyes brightened at the suggestion. She nodded, saying, "I get it," and hurried off, likely to test the idea.
After she left, Ron was alone in the room.
"Swordsmanship…" he muttered, looking at a distant straw dummy.
He closed his eyes, grasped Raikiri's hilt, and took a deep breath.
A red aura of sword energy began to radiate from his body. With each breath, the red energy gradually transformed into golden lightning, swirling around Ron and his sword.
Still with his eyes closed, Ron bent his knees into a drawing stance, the golden lightning crackling around him and Raikiri.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form!" Ron whispered, stepping forward.
A flash of golden light filled the room.
Thunder roared, and the air was torn apart in an instant. A streak of lightning shot through the room, and Ron appeared behind the straw dummy, slowly sheathing Raikiri.
Clink! The sword made a crisp sound as it returned to its scabbard.
The top half of the dummy slid to the ground.
Ron opened his eyes, his face lighting up with excitement.
"I knew it could be done."
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