MeowthTL
patreon
Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 99
🕑 Added 2025-11-09 20:23:59 +0000 UTCChapter 99: Sun-Refined Heart × Sakonji Urokodaki’s Shock
Roy pushed open the door and stepped into the forested mountain.
Winter had passed. Early spring sent green shoots up the slopes. Even sun-starved Mount Sagiri had gained hints of color and a breath of new life. Sabito followed without a word. Makomo stayed with Sakonji Urokodaki, now and then raising a cool breeze to sweep away the wood shavings scattered by carving, then drifting along again.
Roy held his stance, feet nailed to the ground, waist driving his core, the core moving his elbows, the elbows flowing to his hands.
He kept cutting without pause. The count was closing on five thousand.
“How many now?” Makomo sprang into a tree and stood beside Sabito.
She always lost track past three thousand, so she decisively gave up and left the counting to Sabito.
“Four thousand nine hundred.”
“Hm?”
Makomo glanced at the sky. There was still a long stretch until dusk, and he was already at four thousand nine hundred. Could it be…
“Will Eiichiro break through today?”
“I do not know if he will,” Sabito said. “I only know he ate a few dango in the middle, drank a pot of hot tea, and rested for half an hour.”
Makomo pouted.
That was just like him. Anyone else would have dropped their jaw.
She told herself not to make a big deal of it. She should be used to this by now. Her dulled gaze slid to Roy. Her brows ticked up, startled again. How did it look like Eiichiro had gotten taller overnight?
“You noticed too?”
The sleeves and hems of the boy’s clothes were clearly short, exposing his wrists and ankles.
Sabito sighed. “When my parents were still alive, they told me a story. Never walk into a bamboo grove after the rain. The shoots might shoot up by sections and jump out to hit you.”
“I did not believe it before, but now…”
The fox-masked youth gave a self-mocking smile. “Even if Eiichiro told me he was born from bamboo, I would not be surprised.”
“You’re teasing me, Sabito-senpai,” Roy said, lifting his arm for another cut. The arc of steel roared and shredded the mist.
“I am not teasing.” Sabito folded his arms, unable to hide the envy. “If I had even one-tenth of your strength back then, I would not have died to that thing.”
“I do not need one-tenth. One-twentieth would be enough.” Makomo cupped her chin and called to Roy. “Hey, Eiichiro, can you tell me what to eat to grow as fast as you?”
The little girl had always fretted about her height. Even after death, she still thought about it. Sabito rolled his eyes at her, half laughing, at a loss for words.
Roy cut again and smiled without answering.
He could hardly say, “Eat you.”
The matter touched on souls and grudges. The senpai and senior sisters present wouldn’t be much weaker than Moritonio’s sister; years of Breathing training had refined their bodies and will until their presence felt almost tangible. No doubt their 'life force' was abundant
At that thought, Roy was alarmed at himself for feeling a greedy, wicked impulse to prey upon his own seniors. His brows knit. He quickly realized something was wrong.
Inside his inner world, many “negative emotions” had been lurking. He had not noticed them before. Now, sinking his mind and looking closely…
Some came from the wronged spirits murdered by that terrorist “Clown.” Some of the girls and Nen users butchered by Harrison, the “Meat Grinder.” Some from Moritonio’s sister and the victims pressed into “art” and paste. Even… even Nanano Hiroshi, whom Roy had rescued early on, was among them.
These “victims” bore no malice toward Roy himself. They had lain dormant without any sign of revolt until Makomo’s single sentence tugged the thread of “craving” and stirred them to life.
Roy frowned in thought. A person is a complex whole. The “human heart” cannot be spotless. There is always a bright side and a sordid side. They exist apart, yet oppose and complete each other.
That being so—
“Since I chose to accept them, I inevitably have to accept their ‘filth’ as well.”
Clarity dawned. He raised his blade, and the stroke went crooked.
“This must be the so-called law of ‘equivalent exchange.’ If I want to grow in power, I must shoulder the risks that power brings.”
“Shh.” Sabito noticed Roy’s stance deforming and quickly signaled Makomo not to distract him further.
Makomo was sensible. She closed her mouth at once.
Roy’s brow furrowed tight. Having caught the root of the problem, he corrected his stance at once and kept cutting. His mind raced, searching for a way to purge the negative emotions. If they accumulated, he really could end up as Father Silva had warned—warped in heart, lost to madness.
Without noticing, he kept swinging.
Five thousand… five thousand five… five thousand six… five thousand seven… five thousand nine… the count rushed toward six thousand.
At the instant Sabito counted “five thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine,” a slanting ray pierced the fog and fell across Roy’s face. Warmth rose in his chest.
He paused, and twin suns seemed to kindle in his eyes.
They cut through delusion and doubt.
“That is it. The sun rises, the night recedes.
“As long as sunlight falls, all foulness withdraws.”
Inspiration struck like lightning.
Blessed with a sudden clarity, Roy gently closed his eyes and silently visualized the sun.
There was a soft hum. A subtle rhythm radiated from him as the center and passed through Sabito and Makomo. Both spirit bodies trembled.
They looked again, steadying their gaze. The Nichirin Blade in Roy’s hands began to speckle with red.
At first, just two or three flecks. Then a line. The line spread into a sheet. Finally, it ran across the entire blade. In this fog-bound mountain, a brilliant crimson glow bloomed.
With one slanting cut, every “negative” emotion buried in his heart collapsed at once, unraveling into smoke that streamed out above his head.
The wind caught it and erased it without a trace.
Then a massive flaming strike leaped nearly thirty meters, severed the training stakes, plowed open the ground, split a birch, and halted one inch from Sakonji Urokodaki’s toes.
Boom.
The birch toppled. Snow flurried into the air.
In that white haze, the old master who had slipped out at night to watch his disciple’s practice stood stunned. His tengu mask split down the middle with a crack and fell to the ground, revealing an aged face, shocked beyond words.
“A red blade… a sword aura like burning flame…” Memory yanked him back to years ago—the day his beloved disciple Giyu Tomioka completed his training, and also a day heavy with sorrow.
That day, thanks to Sabito, Giyu passed the Final Selection on Mount Fujikasane and formally joined the Demon Slayer Corps. He waited at home for the swordsmith to deliver his sword. Urokodaki remembered clearly what the smith had said when he had Giyu test the blade. He was searching for a swordsman who could turn a Nichirin Blade red. In fact, the entire Swordsmith Village had been searching for such a swordsman. And now—
“Hotaru Haganezuka, the one you seek, has been found.”
