You've finally reached one hundred chapters, congratulations for reading this far and thanks to all of you who stuck with my fanfic. But there is still a long way to go before this fic is finished. I wish you all an enjoyable journey.
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Bang!
A thunderous crash echoed through the mountains, sending dust into the air and scattering countless frightened birds. Oboro shot out like a bullet, only to be kicked away by Netero. His body smashed through tree trunk after tree trunk without stopping.
Frighteningly, Oboro easily controlled his limbs despite his unbalanced trajectory in the air. Twisting his waist halfway through the flight, his feet suddenly kicked off a tree trunk just before impact. He jumped hard and flew towards his opponent like a cannonball. In addition, his figure spun around in the woods, leaving a trail of dotted lines that made it difficult to track his movements.
Netero's pupils darted, determining Oboro's path of attack. The old man was astonished: Compared to their sparring match during the Hunter's Test, Oboro's transformation this time exceeded even his expectations! Although his body hadn't fully recovered, the strength of his Nen had taken a massive leap forward, raising his offense and defense beyond their previous levels. Most importantly, his combat power had skyrocketed!
"Your physical fitness and talent are truly frightening. Your potential for Nen is remarkable, but considering your current understanding of it, including your character, this slight shortcoming is inconsequential," Netero remarked with a smile, his tone light but his eyes serious.
As soon as he finished speaking, a strong wind blew up his hair and aura, and a Nen energy that made his skin tingle rushed towards him like thunder. "Not too generous in quantity, but the quality is much improved," Netero mused, noticing the hazy nature of Oboro's aura.
Snap, snap, snap! Netero attacked immediately and the two collided with countless exchanges of fists and feet in just one breath. Boom! As expected, Oboro was knocked away again, his body tumbling out.
Netero neutralized the attack, distanced himself and jumped to the spot, fists at the ready. He observed Oboro, whose body temperature was extremely high and whose face was flushed after landing. "This so-called breathing technique of yours is quite magical. It can forcefully stimulate your organs and even enhance your senses, but considering your current physical condition, it's best to use it sparingly."
"There is more than one way to breathe. Different breathing rhythms and patterns have different effects on the body," Oboro explained, shaking his sore and swollen arms and stretching his muscles. "I am using this method now to increase my adaptation time to the technique. In addition, it allows me to stimulate my flesh and blood, allowing my body to break through to a stronger state than before."
"Not only that, you seem to have incorporated some new martial arts. Are you aiming to polish every part of your body so that your flesh and blood can be united into a cohesive whole?" Netero chuckled. "Your martial arts moves are a bit strange. Did you learn them recently? Or did you create them yourself?"
"It's a secret!" Oboro grinned back.
The moment vanished and they clashed again. Bang, bang, bang! The battle continued, the mountainous terrain affected by their intense exchanges. But Oboro was always pushed back or pushed away by the old man. Each time he was attacked, however, he adapted in the blink of an eye and continued his offensive.
Time passed slowly as the sun rose and set, day and night alternating. Not everyone had the opportunity to have one of the strongest Nen users in the hunter world as a sparring partner. In this high-intensity battle, Oboro's improvement was naturally rapid.
At first, he could only fight Netero for a few minutes each day because he was unable to maintain the breathing technique for long. Then he began to practice the foundation of Nen cultivation: Refinement. By transforming pure natural energy, he was able to nourish his tired body and replenish his stamina.
However, progress through this process alone was slow. It was not something that could be rushed. According to Netero's original intention, if Oboro didn't go to defeat the Fells Family, it would take at least a few years to recover with this method.
Days like that, repeated over and over again, were especially boring. Netero didn't mind. He left the Hunters' Association's affairs to his subordinates for the time being, calling Dou Mianren from time to time to check on the situation. Unless something important happened, the old man didn't bother to intervene. In his absence, there were undoubtedly some restless individuals ready to cause trouble, but Netero was happy to see "internal strife", finding it more interesting.
The rest of the time, of course, was spent playing with his new toy. Younger generations willing to spend time with the elders were rare these days, especially for a small fox like Oboro, such an opportunity to be trained was precious.
When Oboro grew older and stronger, it would be impossible for him to play like that again. Netero was willing to do it, as if beating Oboro could create a treasured memory for him. He also enjoyed it.
But nothing is absolute. As the breathing time lengthened, Oboro's body and energy recovered and the old man's pressure increased. In just one month, the duration of their fights extended to an hour. Netero, who had worn loose training clothes and wooden clogs from the beginning, was no longer as casual as before and changed into tights!
After the second month, Netero felt tired. Yes, "tired". Although he always joked about his age, he knew he still had plenty of energy. Oboro could already use breathing techniques to fight him for hours. Even without a special breathing technique, he could still last a certain amount of time under normal circumstances.
The two of them fought almost from dawn to dusk, and after dark, Oboro practiced his chanting. This thirst and obsession for power, this intense concentration, made Netero vaguely see the shadow of his own youth. He admired and affirmed Oboro even more.
But these were only his thoughts. What he showed was the absence of a smile on his face. By the third month, the old man was already in a state of despair, even regretting that he had agreed to Oboro's request. He felt as if his old bones were about to fall apart.
It's worth mentioning that from the beginning, the old man had intended to keep his strength at the same level as Oboro's. Although it was training, sometimes an equally strong opponent could act as a catalyst.
Still, Oboro hadn't been able to gain an advantage for the first two months. But from the second half of the third month, Netero had to take the junior seriously, as the thought of "losing" crossed his mind several times during their subsequent fights.
In the end, however, he relied on his personal ability, experience, and skill to subdue Oboro. The old man still cherished his pride.
The last day of the three months came. A light breeze blew through the grass. Oboro's clothes were tattered, his suit jacket discarded long ago. He finished his meditation practice, awoke from his trance-like state, and slowly stood up.
Then his heart contracted, increasing its power and pumping stronger blood throughout his body; all his organs seemed to awaken instantly, entering a specific "working mode" and state in harmony with his breathing through his nose and mouth.
"The last fight," Oboro muttered, looking over at Netero.
The old man approached him step by step, the rising sun at his back. His eyes were stern, staring at Oboro as he rolled his shoulders.
"I will defeat you!" Oboro declared, his eyes widening to reveal pure will. The Nen power on the surface of his body suddenly surged.
"I will not lose, little one." For the first time, Netero sneered at Oboro, his expression fierce.
Whoosh! As he finished speaking, a large amount of grass and dirt flew up. Oboro rushed out and flew over Netero's head.
At that moment, the true power of the two men was fully revealed.
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