Novel & Cerita Shinobu Breathing Style

« Your explanation cramps my conversation with you; you should take a formation in teaching. There are two possibilities here, you are joking, or you are trying to joke because I don’t see any other alternative. » « Hahahaha, you are funny. Alright, I don’t want to make you worse, first, try to control your breathing style. Breathe until you don’t have any place for the air then exhale everything. Do it while training, because I want you to be more endurant in a battle, you have great abilities for a human, you are like an unpolished gem that I am trying to work on. » « I knew it, you were joking. So all I need to do is to breathe correctly, right ? »

Taking a deep breath, recalling the spark, doing some katas, and a short rest. Taking a deep breath, recalling the spark, doing other fighting styles, then a short rest. Then, he finally reached the last set he had set up, and ended it with a lightning stomp. Then he sat on the ground. His breath was heavy, his visible skin was glistening with sweat, and his clothes were drenched. He spread his legs forward, breathe, and just started thinking.

His hands hang loose at his sides but his fingers twitch. “Feet shoulder width,” I instruct. “Knees soft. Do not lock them.” He adjusts. “Breathe in through your nose,” I continue. “Slow. Count to four.” He does. “Out through your mouth. Count to six.” His breath shakes on the release. “That is fine,” I say. “Do it again.” We breathe together. The bond hums. Quiet. Present. Minutes pass. Or maybe seconds. Time bends here. Blake opens his eyes. “It is louder tonight.”

My breath comes faster, chest fig‌hting for space. Come on. Move. I pres‌s a⁠gain, usin‌g my shoul‌der, my knee, anything. The sl‍ab shifts a few centimeters, en‌ough f‌or a breath of cooler air to snake throu⁠gh. I suc⁠k it in greedily, choking halfway.‍ My head spi‍ns, stars‍ b‌u⁠rsting behind my⁠ eyelid‌s.

There was no mockery in his eyes, only a faint flicker of warning. “Strong isn’t the right word.” He paused. “Reo doesn’t fight you. He fights your rhythm — your tempo, your resolve. Before you realize it, he’s already dictating the pace. He makes your strength useless.” Soi Kihyun interjected, flipping through notes on his tablet. “That matches the reports. Reo’s known for his ‘Readflow’ technique reading muscle tension, breathing patterns, micro-movements. It’s borderline predictive fighting.” Yoon Seungmin leaned over Joonwoo’s shoulder, whispering with a grin.

"And I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?" I tried to shake my head, but his hands held me still—not forcefully, but firmly enough that I couldn't look away from his eyes. "Yes, you can," Nicholas insisted. "Watch me. Focus on nothing but my breathing. Breathe in—" He took a slow, deep breath, his chest expanding. "Hold—" He paused for a beat. "And out." He exhaled slowly and deliberately. I tried desperately to follow his rhythm, my lungs fighting against me. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

Control the current, Baraka mentally commanded himself, closing his eyes. He didn't pull on the Star-Code’s volatile, explosive power. He relied on the foundational breathing techniques of martial arts—Ibuki breathing. He inhaled sharply through his nose, drawing oxygen deep into his diaphragm, and exhaled with a short, controlled hiss. He visualized the faint, baseline violet energy in his blood not as a fire, but as a gentle, soothing stream, directing it explicitly to the damaged nerve endings in his legs. His boot lifted two inches off the stone floor.

BOOOOOMMM. "You old bastard, come on! I won't be satisfied until I knock you down, Ashura sword technique! First style, Killer bull attack!" Taking a strong stance, Xiao Chen unleashed the power of the Ashura sword. Under Xiao Chen's feet, the ground turned dark, emitting an aura of death, and from beneath it emerged a black bull with blue eyes, roaring madly in front of the sect's inner disciples. GROOOOAAARRRRR….

Noah crouched as he controlled his breathing as he hid atop a densely branched tree. The Crouching Tiger Breathing Technique he had learnt from the Norton house circulated as he controlled his breathing and gathered strength. As an experienced veteran, he knew it was impossible to outrun his assailants as they were probably an entire Realm above him, so he would fight using his environment. It didn't take long for two men to walk into the clearing below him. The two arrogantly displayed their Intermediate Realm battle power. Even their Battle Souls hung in the air behind them.

Resting on his hip was a single, long Nodachi a curved greatsword. "You bring the filth of the crust into the heavens, Anomalies," the Shogun’s voice resonated, smooth and perfectly synthesized, echoing off the invisible atmospheric dome above them. "You shattered the Marianas with brute force. You cracked my floorboards with reckless momentum. But you cannot outrun precision."