Danmachi with Haki skill - Chapter 2
Chapter 2: The Trial of the War God
The moment Kaito spoke those words—”I want to join your Familia”—the entire dojo fell silent.
Takemikazuchi’s sharp eyes studied him, unblinking. The god’s presence was heavy, like the calm before a storm. Around them, the other disciples paused their training, watching with curiosity.
Then, the war god smirked.
“Prove it.”
Kaito’s pulse quickened. “How?”
Takemikazuchi gestured to a young woman standing nearby—raven-black hair tied in a high ponytail, her posture poised like a drawn blade.
“Mikoto. Spar with him.”
The woman—Mikoto Yamato—stepped forward without a word. Her dark brown eyes were calm, but Kaito didn’t miss the way her fingers flexed slightly, as if already anticipating the fight.
One of the disciples tossed Kaito a wooden training sword. He caught it awkwardly, the weight unfamiliar in his grip.
Mikoto took her stance, her own wooden blade held loosely at her side.
“Ready when you are,” she said, her voice cool.
Kaito swallowed. “Alright. No pressure. Just don’t embarrass yourself.”
He tightened his grip and lunged.
—
Kaito’s attack was reckless—a straightforward swing aimed at Mikoto’s shoulder.
She sidestepped effortlessly.
Before he could react, her wooden sword cracked against his ribs.
“Guh—!”
Pain flared through his side, and he stumbled back, gasping.
Mikoto didn’t press the advantage. She simply reset her stance, waiting.
“Again,” Takemikazuchi ordered.
Kaito gritted his teeth and charged once more.
This time, he feinted left before swinging right—
Mikoto’s sword met his wrist with a sharp thwack.
“Agh—!”
His fingers went numb, and the training sword clattered to the floor.
The disciples murmured. Someone chuckled.
Kaito’s face burned, but he forced himself to pick up the sword again.
“You’re holding it wrong,” Mikoto said flatly. “Your grip is too tight. You’re telegraphing your moves.”
Kaito exhaled sharply. “Then show me.”
Mikoto’s eyes flickered—almost amused—before she attacked.
Her strike was fast.
Kaito barely raised his sword in time to block, but the force sent him skidding back. His arms trembled.
“Damn, she’s strong!”
Mikoto didn’t let up. Her next swing came low—Kaito jumped back, but she changed direction mid-swing, her sword snapping up toward his chin.
He barely dodged, feeling the wood graze his jaw.
“Too slow,” she said.
Kaito’s breath came in ragged gasps. His muscles ached. His pride hurt more.
But he grinned.
“That all you got?”
Mikoto’s eyebrow twitched. Then, for the first time, the ghost of a smirk touched her lips.
“Hmph.”
She struck again.
—
Kaito lost.
Badly.
By the end, he was on his knees, sweat dripping down his face, his body screaming in protest. Mikoto stood over him, her wooden sword resting against his shoulder.
“Yield?” she asked.
Kaito coughed, then laughed. “Yeah… I yield.”
The dojo was silent.
Then—
“Good.”
Takemikazuchi stepped forward, arms crossed. “You’ve got spirit. And you don’t quit.” His gaze was assessing. “But spirit alone won’t survive the Dungeon.”
Kaito wiped his mouth. “Then teach me.”
The war god studied him for a long moment. Then, he nodded.
“Welcome to the Takemikazuchi Familia.”
A ripple of approval passed through the disciples. Mikoto extended a hand, pulling Kaito to his feet.
“Don’t expect it to get easier,” she warned.
Kaito grinned. “Wouldn’t want it to.”
—
That evening, Kaito knelt in Takemikazuchi’s private chamber, his back bare. The god dipped a needle into a vial of his own blood, the liquid shimmering faintly with divine energy.
“This will hurt,” Takemikazuchi said simply.
Kaito braced himself. “Do it.”
The needle touched his skin—
And fire erupted across his back.
Kaito’s vision whited out. It felt like his bones were being carved into, like molten metal was being poured into his veins. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out, tasting blood.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the pain faded—replaced by a warmth spreading through his body.
“Open your eyes,” Takemikazuchi commanded.
Kaito did—
And the world changed.
—
Everything was sharper.
The flickering candlelight seemed slower. The rustle of fabric as Takemikazuchi moved was crisp, like he could track every thread shifting.
And then—
He felt it.
A presence behind him. A pressure in the air.
Before Takemikazuchi could speak, Kaito twisted, his hand snapping up—
And caught the god’s wrist an inch from his face.
Takemikazuchi had moved to flick his forehead—a test.
And Kaito had stopped him.
The god’s eyes widened slightly. Then, slowly, he smiled.
“Interesting.”
Kaito blinked, releasing his grip. “What… was that?”
Takemikazuchi turned him around, showing him his reflection in a nearby mirror.
On Kaito’s back, glowing faintly, was his Status.
NAME: Kaito
LEVEL: 1
STRENGTH: I (0)
ENDURANCE: I (0)
DEXTERITY: I (0)
AGILITY: I (0)
MAGIC: I (0)
SKILLS:
[Mind’s Eye: Horizon]
– Grants precognitive awareness of imminent danger.
– Stamina drains with prolonged use.
Kaito stared.
“Observation Haki…”
It was real. And it was his.
Takemikazuchi’s voice was thoughtful. “Your soul remembers a power from another world.”
Kaito clenched his fists, his heart pounding.
“This is just the beginning.”