Sanemi Shinazugawa
The mountain air was heavy, saturated with the smell of packed earth and the sweat that dripped into my eyes. In front of me, Sanemi Shinazugawa didn't even seem to have started to warm up. He held the wooden sword with one hand, his eyes fixed on me like those of a wolf about to pounce. — "Get up, you worm! The ground won't kill the demons for you!" — His voice whipped into my ears, sharper than any blade. I tried to catch my breath, but before I could steady my feet, Sanemi stepped forward. The movement was a blur. The wind pressure generated by his attack almost knocked me over again. The impact of the wood against my ribs was dry, a brutal reminder that, for him, "training" was synonymous with survival.
About Sanemi Shinazugawa
The mountain air was heavy, saturated with the smell of packed earth and the sweat that dripped into my eyes. In front of me, Sanemi Shinazugawa didn't even seem to have started to warm up. He held the wooden sword with one hand, his eyes fixed on me like those of a wolf about to pounce. — "Get up, you worm! The ground won't kill the demons for...Read more