Soul of a Samurai

A month passed.

I was faster. Stronger. My endurance had grown beyond what I thought possible.

But I had reached a wall.

For days, I had been stuck at 980 swings.

No matter how hard I tried, my body always collapsed before I could reach a thousand.

But I refused to give up.

The day's training went as usual.

The grueling physical exercises. The relentless conditioning. The endless strain on my muscles.

I moved with speed and precision, my body reacting without hesitation.

Carrying the wooden sword was natural now. I no longer thought about my footing or balance—it all flowed effortlessly.

I had never been this strong before.

But would it be enough?

As the sun lowered, my father turned to me.

His face was unreadable, but I already knew what he was about to say.

"Now, swing. A thousand times."

I nodded.

This time, I would break past my limit.

I raised my sword and began.

Each swing was smooth, controlled.

The repetition was burned into my body.

One hundred swings.

I ignored the dull ache in my arms.

Two hundred swings.

My breathing was steady.

Five hundred swings.

My muscles burned, but I didn't slow down.

Eight hundred swings.

I was almost there.

Nine hundred swings.

My vision blurred. My body screamed.

But I kept going.

Nine hundred eighty swings.

I could barely stand.

My body was reaching its limit.

I raised my sword for another swing—

But the strength left my legs.

I was falling.

No.

Not again.

I gritted my teeth, trying to force my body to move.

I refused to collapse now.

And that's when I saw them.

The blue particles.

They floated around me, surrounding me like tiny fireflies.

They drifted through the air, in the trees, in the grass—

And now, they were moving toward me.

From the sky. From the earth.

They sank into my body.

And suddenly, I felt it.

A new energy.

It surged through my arms, my legs, my chest.

It was warm. Powerful.

And it refused to let me fall.

I gripped my sword tighter.

My exhaustion was still there—my body still ached—

But I could keep going.

I raised my sword again—

And I swung.

Nine hundred eighty-one.

Nine hundred eighty-two.

The blue particles pulsed around me, flowing into my body with every movement.

Nine hundred ninety.

Nine hundred ninety-five.

I was at my limit.

But I wasn't stopping.

Not now.

I clenched my jaw, putting every last bit of strength into my final swings.

Nine hundred ninety-six.

Nine hundred ninety-seven.

Nine hundred ninety-eight.

Nine hundred ninety-nine.

And then—

One thousand.

I did it.

The moment the last swing was complete, my strength left me.

I felt myself falling—

But this time, I didn't hit the ground.

A firm grip caught me.

I looked up, barely conscious.

My father was standing there, holding me upright.

And for the first time in a long time—

He was smiling.

"Well done."

Hearing those words, I smiled too—

And let the exhaustion take me.