Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Assassin 

The filled moat’s waters were littered with floating corpses. The sun had already set, and their surroundings were lit by torches. 

“Looks like quite a lot of people drowned...” Ryoma whispered, looking at the corpses floating in the moat. 

There was no wavering in his voice. His strategy was successful, and as a direct result, thousands had died. No one would blame Ryoma for becoming a bit sentimental, but his expression was no different than usual. 

Whether he truly felt nothing over this, or if he was suppressing his emotions, considering he was a normal high-school student until just a few months ago, made it clear that Ryoma Mikoshiba’s mental fortitude was extraordinary. 

“Yes, just as you predicted, there were very few people that knew how to swim,” Laura, who stood behind them, answered. 

Water wasn’t such a scary thing in modern Japan. With some exceptions, most people learned how to swim in school, and very few lacked that skill. 

But this world was different. With the exception of those who worked in professions relating to water, like fishermen, sailors and ferrymen, the common person in this world didn’t know how to swim. But that made sense in its own way. Even children had to help out in farm work. Having to work for one’s living every day left no time to play. Once one became an adult, what scant amount of free time they once had would be gone. 

Among the mercenaries and knights in Ryoma’s service right now, less than fifty people knew how to swim. And having learned of that fact, Ryoma couldn’t pass up the chance to take advantage of it. 

“Not being able to remove their raiments was another reason...” 

Laura nodded wordlessly at Ryoma’s assertion. 

They could let go of their weapons, but it wasn’t easy to take off the leather armor they had on, and so their gear weighed them down, impeding their actions. 

“How many are dead?” 

“As you’ve ordered, we took no prisoners. They’re all dead, so... this is only an estimate, but just below six thousand.” 

The enemy’s total numbers were eight thousand, so that meant six thousand out of that number all drowned to death. Most of them were near the fence, so they couldn’t retreat in time. Kael still had two thousand soldiers left, but continuing the fighting immediately wasn’t quite possible. 

“The force attacking from the north was wiped out, and they likely pulled back some of their forces in the center and the south, since they still had some leeway... Oh, and we’ve managed to greatly cut down the number of heavily armored knights.” 

Ryoma nodded at Laura’s report. Knights that had learned thaumaturgy and clad themselves in heavy armor were exceedingly powerful in melee combat. Normally, they would have to risk quite a bit of loss to slay knights, but their flooding attack took the majority of them out of the equation, which was a major achievement in and of itself. 

“This should make things considerably easier,” Ryoma said with a cold smile. 

When he thought to make a bridgehead on the banks of the Thebes, he considered using its abundant waters to cut down the enemy’s numbers. Mikhail’s arbitrary act of insubordination was a major incident, of course, but they were successful in this plan nonetheless. 

“All that remains is to await the arrival of Princess Lupis’s reinforcements...” 

“Yeah, I know... But they won’t be able to move for a day or two. Still, we’ll need to keep some lookouts, but you can relay that the forces are to rest for now.” 

Nodding at Ryoma’s instructions, Laura then walked away. 

“So... What’s left to do now...?” Those words escaped Ryoma’s lips, now that he was left alone. 

Ryoma knew the importance of making detailed plans, but he had no intention of adhering to them too persistently. His style was more to play it by ear. 

I ended up using my ace in the hole ahead of time. Well, it was hard to see our achievements over the defensive line, and not killing the enemy off when we can might end up making things harder down the line... 

Ryoma wondered if it would have been wiser to keep that ace unused, but discarded that idea after a moment. Forming a mountain of corpses with his flood tactic greatly elevated his forces’ morale, putting the effectiveness of his command in tangible form. Cutting down the enemy’s numbers was a great achievement, too. Ryoma could confidently say his tactic yielded significant gains. 

It’s all good, then. This makes that tactic easier to pull off, too... The only question now is how the enemy’s main force will react. It’d be best for us if they stayed put until Princess Lupis arrives, but... Next time the enemy shows up, they’ll be ready for us. 

The pressing question was just how long it would take them to make those preparations. 

It would take them a day to get information out of the survivors, and two to three days to prepare for attack. This means we’ve bought ourselves at least three to four days... And Princess Lupis’s reinforcements will only arrive seven to nine days from now... 

A smile played over Ryoma’s lips. Everything was going according to the scenario he’d planned so far. 

The more time the enemy spends on preparations, the more it places us at an advantage. And if they panic and try to charge us, we still have plenty of hands we can play. We’ll likely manage to handle Duke Gelhart’s side... And all that’s left after that... 

It all hinged on whether Ryoma’s prediction of the situation was correct. But no one could know that before it was all truly over.

Duke Gelhart’s castle stood in the center of the citadel city, Heraklion. 

“I’m surprised you have the gall to show your face before me, cur...” Duke Gelhart said coldly, gazing down on Kael’s bowed head. “I suppose I should praise you for your audacity, if nothing else.” 

The time was late at night, when Duke Gelhart would usually be asleep. Today was different, though. This was no night Duke Gelhart could sleep through. Kael left that noon in high spirits, leading a force of eight thousand men, only to return in defeat with less than two thousand remaining. 

“My deepest, sincerest apologies, milord,” Kael kowtowed his head even lower. 

It was the one thing he had no choice but to do. 

“Three to four thousand of the commoner soldiers conscripted from the nearby villages... And nearly all of the knights I lent you. All wiped out... A truly remarkable defeat.” 

An aide handed Duke Gelhart a document, and he read the casualty report with a grimace. People had a way of acting most calmly and rationally when gripped with anger. Duke Furio Gelhart, if nothing else, was one such person. Kael bowed his head silently once again. 

“I care not about the common rabble, but don’t believe you can claim that you don’t know the value of the knights I lent you,” Duke Gelhart’s voice grew stronger. 

In fact, he’d spent many years gathering up his treasured knight order. And so, having lost a third of them to a defeat by the enemy’s ploys, Duke Gelhart couldn’t help but be overtaken with anger. 

Especially since the one helming them was Kael, whom he had taken in after he turned his back on the princess’s faction specifically for his talent as a commander. The more he had initially valued his talents, the greater his disappointment was at his failure. 

“Yes...! My deepest apologies, milord...!” Kael kept his hands down, blurting out apologies like a parrot. 

The situation probably called for him to say something a bit more articulate than just abject apologies, but the atmosphere didn’t allow for it. Poor excuses would just make Duke Gelhart more likely to turn his back on him, and Kael didn’t have the leisure to make excuses. 

“Still... I’m surprised you’re alive. The reports say you took to the frontlines...” Duke Gelhart whispered, his eyes on the document in his hand. 

“My horse swam away with me on its back... We were fortunate enough to get caught up in a muddy stream...” 

“Oh, aren’t you lucky. And to think I suspected you shamelessly abandoned your men and fled. Just like how you betrayed Princess Lupis...” Duke Gelhart said, stressing the scathing irony of it all. 

Still, Kael desperately withstood Duke Gelhart’s insults. He had no other choice. Indeed, Kael’s survival was nothing but sheer luck. He was on his way to the frontlines and was halfway through the moat when the flooding happened. 

Kael had knights on all sides and couldn’t move to get away. Clad in metal armor, Kael would have shared the fate of the other knights and drowned to death. 

But what prevented that from happening was Kael’s beloved horse. Kael throwing away what he could remove from his armor contributed to his survival, too. 

Was it coincidence or a stroke of good luck? His horse struggled to swim away even as it was caught in the muddy stream, and somehow managed to return to the other bank with Kael on its back... 

“Well, so be it. I’ll deal with you later.” 

Kael sighed with relief at those words. Given Duke Gelhart’s personality, it wouldn’t be surprising if he was sentenced to death. No, if anything, it was almost odd that he didn’t have him executed. Kael’s failure was that great. 

“But don’t get the wrong idea into your head. I won’t have you killed, but that’s not to say I forgive you, either.” 

Duke Gelhart’s words froze Kael in place and sent a chill down his spine. 

“That will be all. You may leave for today. Go and rest.” Duke Gelhart shooed him away with a wave of the hand. 

“I-I shall take my leave, then.” Kael left the room quickly, practically fleeing, with his head still hung. 

“Hmph. Incompetent cretin!” Condemnation slithered from Duke Gelhart’s mouth a few moments after Kael left. 

The words themselves were brief, but the malice they contained was intense. 

“Are you quite sure it was wise to leave him be?” 

“You mean to say, I should have disposed of Kael immediately?” 

Duke Gelhart’s aide nodded in response to his words. 

“Imbecile. Do you think that fool’s life can make up for these losses?!” 

Duke Gelhart had already given up on Kael. He didn’t let him go out of clemency, or to offer him a chance to regain his honor. It was to give him a fitting place to die, one that would at least somewhat fill the gaping hole his current failure had left, and it was for that reason alone that his execution was stayed. 

“The commoner soldiers matter not to me. But losing such a great portion of my knight order... That damned idiot!” 

There are no absolutes in war. No matter how superior one’s position may be, a loss is a loss. But despite understanding this, the flames of anger in Duke Gelhart’s heart could not be extinguished. 

Sending his aides away, Duke Gelhart sunk into his office’s long chair and heaved a long sigh, starting to calm down. 

This came at a bad time... Now that General Albrecht’s joined forces with me, I can’t allow myself to take any more blows he could take advantage of... 

He was in the middle of negotiations with General Albrecht over which of them would hold the right of command, and any result that would make the general put his ability over commanding the war into question considerably weighed down Duke Gelhart’s position. 

General Albrecht had served as Rhoadseria’s general for many years, commanding over its military affairs. Duke Gelhart, on the other hand, was in charge of internal affairs. 

In any other situation, relinquishing military command to the experienced expert would be the natural course of action. But if he did that, General Albrecht would steal everything away from him. 

His ambition is obvious. If I carelessly give him the initiative, he’ll come for my life. That’s the type of man he is... Blast! If only he was a bit less ambitious, I could give him the right to command without any concern... 

From Duke Gelhart’s perspective, General Albrecht’s skills were precious. This was why he accepted him now, when he was on the wane. But upon meeting him now, the duke found he had remained every bit as greedy and ambitious as before. 

No, when he still served the knights’ faction with Princess Lupis as his banner, he still made some effort to hide his intentions. But now there was no more need for that, and the man was simply exuding greed, much like a starved wolf. 

I can’t rely on Sudou’s counsel here... Perhaps believing his words and accepting Albrecht was a mistake on my part? 

The face of a single man surfaced in Duke Gelhart’s mind. He, who always acted in Princess Radine’s shadow, was also the one who advised Duke Gelhart to accept General Albrecht to his side. And, it was also him who had introduced Princess Radine to Duke Gelhart in the first place. 

His facial features were plain, like that of a man one might find on any corner. His physique was of medium build. His only notable feature was his eyes and hair, which were as black as sheer darkness. 

Since he was always at Princess Radine’s side, few people, including Duke Gelhart, had ever met the man. 

No... I’ll make use of Albrecht, like Sudou advised. He’s a precious source of fighting power... Given the knights I just lost in this war, he’s all the more valuable... The only issue is that greed of his... 

Strictly speaking, Duke Gelhart wasn’t entirely opposed to giving General Albrecht command over the military. He knew that gaining control over the entire country, including internal affairs, military affairs and diplomacy, was easier said than done. Duke Gelhart wanted control over everything, but rationally analyzed the situation. 

But I don’t have much time... If Princess Lupis arrives with her main force, the war will swing in their favor at once. 

The commoners were weak, but at the same time, they held great strength. They obeyed his call to arms both because he was their governor, and because they knew they could overwhelm Princess Lupis’s forces with sheer numbers. 

But if they could not wipe out the force of two thousand at the bridgehead, what would happen when Princess Lupis’s main force arrived? The commoners would come to doubt Duke Gelhart’s strength. With this taken into account, Kael’s failure was so crippling that the word “defeat” didn’t even begin to describe it. 

Is this a fatal blow? No, not yet... I can still turn this around. Duke Gelhart shook his head, as if to shake off his weakness. I can attend to Kael’s punishment later... But the enemy commander is extremely sharp... If I take him out, can I still win? 

Though he could disparage him now, Duke Gelhart did accept Kael out of faith in his talents. Both his skill as a swordsman and as a commander matched those of Mikhail. But a few strokes of bad luck and his pedigree not being quite as respectable as it could be, lowered other people’s opinion of him. 

But, from Duke Gelhart’s perspective, he was far more of a useful pawn than Mikhail was. And removing any commander sly enough to defeat him would put Duke Gelhart’s side at an advantage. 

Duke Gelhart’s lips curled up in a vicious smile. The assassin was a disposable pawn one way or the other, and the enemy was elated from their victory, which would mean their security would be light. 

Now’s the time... 

Duke Gelhart rang a bell, summoning an aide from the adjacent room. 

“Order the spy we’ve sent into enemy lines to assassinate their commander! And make haste!” 

“Yes, milord! At once!” The aide immediately left his office. 

“Now, just how will the cards fall...?” Duke Gelhart’s voice reverberated through his office. 

His ambition and greed hadn’t wavered in the slightest...

The first dawn since Ryoma and his forces set up the bridgehead rose. 

“Just like I expected, they didn’t raid us during the night...” 

“Yes, it seems they weren’t able to reorganize their forces in such a short time.” 

“I think it’s fair to assume the enemy’s scrambling to gather their forces right now... I guess using that ace was worth it after all.” 

“It’s likely they’ll have to squander a few days away to regroup,” Laura nodded. 

“Then we’d better prepare for what comes next, now that we have the time...” 

“You mean what you said earlier?” Laura’s eyes lit up at Ryoma’s words. “I think the timing is ideal for it. The enemy is quite shaken after your flooding tactic.” 

“They would be. It’ll take time until it produces tangible results, so it’d be best to set it up in advance... And the rest depends on Lione, I suppose...” 

“Yes. I have been informed that the required preparations are all in place...” 

“All right. Then after breakfast, call everyone for a meeting...” 

Ryoma’s stomach had been yowling in complaint for some time now. 

“I’ve already prepared breakfast.” 

Normally, there would be someone in charge of cooking, and so there was no need for the Malfist sisters to prepare Ryoma’s meals, but the two never relinquished taking care of him to anyone else. That was an unwritten rule, from back when they lived in the palace. 

“Let’s eat it while it’s hot, then,” Ryoma said, and made way for his tent. 

Thus began the morning of their second day on the battlefield.

“Well, I ain’t got no complaints about it myself.” 

“Me neither. If we prepare ahead of time, we can put it to use whenever we need to.” 

Concluding their breakfast, Lione, Boltz and the Malfist sisters were all seated in Ryoma’s tent. The plates lined along the table sat empty, their contents having already been consumed. 

“Could I have you pick ten people, then? I’d like to have them sent out by midday...” 

“You got it, boy.” Lione and Boltz nodded at his words, after which Lione downed her glass in one go and slammed it on the table. “We’ll handle it.” 

“All right, that’s taken care of... Sara, how much did you figure out about her?” 

Ryoma steered the conversation toward another pressing topic. 

“Yes, about that girl...” 

Immediately grasping who he was getting at from his question, Sara nodded gingerly. 

“Her name is Sakuya. There’s no doubt that she’s been in constant contact with someone when we were in the capital, but I don’t know exactly who with...” 

“Aww, so all you figured out was her name?” Lione sighed. 

“My apologies. Master Ryoma did order me not to do anything reckless...” 

Sara didn’t seem the slightest bit pleased with her accomplishments either, and regarded Lione’s displeasure with an apologetic bow of the head. 

She may have confirmed this Sakuya individual was a spy, but she couldn’t figure out anything else. But in opposition to everyone else’s pessimism, Ryoma’s smile was more peaceful than usual. 

“I see... Well, just keep an eye on her for now, I suppose.” 

Everyone’s gazes focused on Ryoma at the sound of those words. 

“Are you sure, lad? We could get a confession out of her...” 

Lione grimaced at Boltz’s whispered suggestion. She knew just what he meant. His many years as a mercenary meant he wasn’t above torture. He wasn’t the type to derive some kind of sick pleasure from doing so, but he could be cold-hearted when the situation called for it. 

“Well, this isn’t a burning issue. If we just carelessly try to make a move against her, they’ll just send someone else, and that would put us right back at square one... Right? Besides, I get the feeling she’ll be making her move soon...” 

The four nodded silently at the meaning hidden behind Ryoma’s words.

Getting rid of the corpses was important work that had to be done swiftly. Corpses left unattended could cause an outbreak of plague. And between the soldiers, moving about busily, was one girl. 

“Miss Sara, where are those soldiers going?” 

Sakuya, who had gone about disposing of a corpse lying nearby, stopped when she noticed a group crossing the flooded moat on a raft. 

“Oh, those are merchants from the nearby town.” Sara answered briskly. “They’re heading back from negotiations.” 

“Merchants...?” 

“Yes. What of it? Is there anything suspicious about them?” 

Sakuya couldn’t say anything in response to Sara’s inquiry. 

“No... Nothing...” Sakuya said and returned her glance to the corpse lying down before her. 

What is the meaning of this? Merchants? In the middle of a battlefield...? No, I’ve never seen them arrive to begin with... Did they cross the moat in secret? No... If they did, they’d be leaving in secret, too. 

Sakuya restrained the agitation rising up in her. Only natural, as it had now been over a month since she’d infiltrated this band of mercenaries. But she hadn’t collected much information during that time. 

Could there have been... some kind of movement?! 

Her conclusion was hardly a long shot. And as a matter of fact, the group crossing the moat was indeed given an important role to play, but Sakuya would only come to learn that a bit later on. 

Well, it is what it is. I can figure that out later. But why won’t this girl leave my side...? Is she keeping her eye on me? 

The thought crossed her mind while she gazed at Sara’s golden locks as she worked next to her. Since she had been working beside her often as of late, the two likely appeared as friends to everyone else. But if Sakuya was one to fall for such gullible thoughts as that, she wouldn’t make for much of a spy. 

Still, Sakuya discarded that doubt. There were few women among the mercenaries, and there was nothing unnatural about Sara spending time with her, given they were close in age. 

It couldn’t be. If she was ordered to watch over me, what reason would she have to keep me alive? 

Sakuya had looked into Ryoma Mikoshiba. She couldn’t find anything regarding how he came to cooperate with Princess Lupis, but she did figure out he was a merciless man. Or rather, she was forced to acknowledge it, since he had demonstrated as much in his battle with Branzo the Black Spider and with yesterday’s flooding tactic... 

He’s got the skill. Even if he hasn’t gained thaumaturgy yet, he’s essentially a top-class warrior. 

Duke Gelhart had dispatched her through her clan to serve as a decoy and assassin. Having mingled with the mercenaries during his fight with Branzo, Sakuya had managed to appraise Ryoma’s strength. 

If we were to fight on one-on-one, we’d be about even... No, it’s too soon to say that was the extent of what he could do... If I’m really going to kill him, I’d have to use poison, or attack him in his sleep. 

The image of Branzo’s massive form soaring through the air as if thrown by magic, only to have his neck stomped out like an insect, surfaced clearly in Sakuya’s mind. There was no doubting how cold of a man Ryoma was. And any suspicions she’d had turned to certainties when she saw yesterday’s flooding tactic. 

To think of a ploy like that when he’s already this skilled... He’s definitely a dangerous man. 

She’d only been ordered to gather information for now, but eventually, the order to assassinate him would definitely come. From the perspective of her employer, Duke Gelhart, Ryoma was a pawn that had to be removed from the board, by any means necessary... 

As Sakuya kept working with that in mind, a light flashed in her eyes for a moment. 

Two consecutive flashes, and then three more after a pause... So it’s time... 

Using a mirror’s reflected light was the method of communication she’d established with her contact before infiltrating Ryoma’s forces. Since she was behind enemy lines, she’d have to be cautious when communicating with her allies. Meeting them directly was out of the question, and given the situation, so were secret messages. 

And so they decided on reflected light. Its biggest advantage was that the enemy wouldn’t catch on to it, and one could easily write it off as mere coincidence. 

Sakuya continued working without the slightest change in expression. But deep inside, she honed her heart like a cold blade... to accomplish her task of assassinating Ryoma Mikoshiba. 

Poisoning his food won’t work... He only eats the food those two make... 

Only Laura and Sara prepared Ryoma’s meals, and they entrusted no one else to carry them. They were quite thorough in their protection of him. 

Which means my only sure-fire way of killing him would be melee combat... Perhaps a blade laced with poison... 

That said, a melee fight would limit Sakuya’s avenues of escape as an assassin. 

It’s either do or die... 

Even a first class assassin walked into battle knowing their life was on the line. 

Small wonder, then, that she neglected to notice Sara’s gaze fixated on her back... 

The second day’s night was almost past. The moon was cloaked by clouds, with torches set around the place being the camp’s lone source of illumination. 

Something whooshed by. 

Weaving across that boundary between light and darkness, a black figure swiftly made its way across the tents. None of the sentries noticed it, though. 

The character was cloaked in a black mask and black clothes, with even their gloves and boots being the color of night. Accurately evading the torchlight, they ran like the wind. It felt almost obvious the sentries would fail to notice them. 

Here... 

The shadow strained their eyes. Under daylight there would be no mistaking the tent, but it was difficult to discern during the dark night. That said, an assassin ordered to kill naturally had to be gifted with good night vision. The shadow carefully confirmed it was the right tent strictly out of wary caution. 

The shadow drew the sword at their waist, and took a small ceramic bottle out of their pocket, spilling its contents carefully over the blade. The black, viscous liquid coated the sword. 

The shadow then corked the bottle, returned it to their pocket, and then took out a piece of cloth. Covering the blade with the cloth down to its hilt, they carefully rubbed it over the blade, being mindful to not apply too much force. 

This should do... I need only eliminate Ryoma Mikoshiba with my own two hands... 

Confirming that the black liquid adequately coated the blade, the shadow slowly moved to the tent’s entrance. 

There were no guards at Ryoma’s tent. The shadow didn’t know if it was out of confidence or if he simply found their presence irritating, but Ryoma made it clear that he didn’t want any guards placed around his tent. 

If this was a sporadic decision made within the last few days, the shadow would have suspected a trap. But they couldn’t suspect it, because Ryoma had given that order from the very beginning. 

The shadow swiftly looked around the interior from the entrance. Perhaps it was because Ryoma was asleep, but the tent was completely dark, without any candlelight. 

There were several chairs and a table for meetings in the center of the room, with Ryoma’s personal desk being further in. Ryoma’s sword and armor were hung to the left of the entrance. 

Opposite of that was a bed, with a black figure resting over it. With darkness dominating the tent, it was hard to discern just what that figure was. Judging it to be Ryoma Mikoshiba’s sleeping figure, the shadow silently crept towards the bed. 

Now’s my chance! 

The shadow swung up its blade silently. There was no one around, making it the optimal time to assassinate their target. No assassin would let this chance slip by. 

The blade then cut through the wind sharply, and the shadow confidently believed they had succeeded in their appointed task. 

But that faith would be ruthlessly shattered the next moment. 

Ting! 

A metallic sound, most unlike the sound of flesh being cut through that the shadow expected to hear, rang out in the tent. 

And taking advantage of the moment the shadow froze up in shock, someone sneaking up on it from behind went on the offensive. 

An arm as thick as a rock planted its fist into the shadow’s neck, forcibly knocking all the air out of its mouth. 

“Guh...” 

The shadow tried to suppress the groan escaping its throat, but that very act rendered it defenseless once again, as its attacker slammed their fist into its right shoulder next, bashing into its sensitive weak spot. 

With their right arm momentarily numbed, their blade fell to the ground. 

No! This is a trap! 

The shadow finally grasped the situation it was in. But the aftereffects of the punch to its diaphragm made its movements too sluggish. 

No... My body won’t move in time! 

Its right arm was still numb, and while its sensation was gradually returning, it was still a major handicap. The shadow gave up on resisting, and instead focused on finding an escape route. 

The tent’s entrance is behind them... But in this situation I won’t be able to break through them. In which case... 

By discarding any thoughts of futile resistance and electing to focus on escape, the shadow proved their status as a first-class assassin. The tent was thankfully made of fabric, and unlike wood, any blade could serve to cut a way out of it. 

The shadow swiftly wheeled around, running to the opposite side compared to the entrance, leaping over the desk and pushing its body forward, holding up its blade to swiftly cut through the fabric. 

“What might you be doing here this late at night?” Sara’s voice spoke to the shadow from above. 

“Ah!” 

Sara definitively sensed the face behind the mask filling with surprise. 

“Is this really something to be surprised over?” 

The shadow ignored Sara’s words and looked around its surroundings. 

Where?! Which direction has the least people?! 

The way in which the shadow didn’t give up, no matter what, was the very image of a professional, but there was no chance of it getting away with Sara blocking its path. 

“It’s pointless!” Sara lifted her arm, and several fully-armored soldiers appeared from the darkness. 

There were roughly twenty of them, and they were led by Lione and Boltz. Even a first-class assassin wouldn’t be able to break through such an encirclement. 

“Firstly, drop all the weapons on your person!” 

After a moment of hesitation, the shadow abided by Sara’s order and reached into its pocket. The mercenaries tensed up. 

Should I throw it away? Or do I... 

Should they obey or not? Only the end result could say which choice would be correct. If they held on to their weapon and resisted, they could be able to decisively break through this encirclement, which would make the option of throwing their weapons away and surrendering peacefully foolish in hindsight. 

But then again, the opposite also held true. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t kill you,” Sara ordered, reining in the mercenaries’ agitation. “Resisting would land you the worst possible conclusion, though... All right? Please, put down your weapons, slowly.” 

They’re being cautious... Breaking through is impossible... 

Quickly calculating their options, the shadow reached into their pocket, taking out the small bottle and dropping it at her feet. 

Still... If they’re ordering me to throw away my weapons, they probably won’t kill me right away... Which means I still have my chances. 

And as the shadow kept stubbornly groping for a chance, they obeyed Sara’s order and dropped all the weapons they carried to the ground. In so doing, gambling for their own survival...

The moon finally showed itself from between the clouds, lighting up the area. 

“Start by taking off your mask.” 

Obeying Ryoma’s command, the figure undid the fabric that covered their face, and the light of the lamp shone over the figure of a black-haired mercenary. It was Sakuya. 

“Well, now that we can all see each other’s faces, I think it’ll be much easier for us to talk.” 

Sakuya regarded Ryoma’s words by looking around, wondering if she was being taken for a fool. 

“Talk? Don’t you mean interrogate?” 

Aside from Ryoma and Sakuya, the tent was populated by Ryoma’s would-be aides; Lione, Boltz and the Malfist sisters, with more than ten other soldiers standing guard outside. The atmosphere was certainly a touch too heavy for mere casual conversation. 

“Oh, that’s just a difference in perception, see? If nothing else, I came here to hold a conversation.” 

Those words did relieve some of Sakuya’s tension. 

Torture doesn’t seem likely for now... I thought he’d have me cut down where I stand, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

If nothing else, Sakuya gathered that she wasn’t in immediate danger. That wasn’t to say she was letting down her guard, though, but some of her fears were alleviated, at least when it came to physical violence. 

“So... What do you intend to speak about to an assassin who came to kill you?” 

“Oh, really now. Just lighten up a bit, alright?” Ryoma answered her with a wry smile. 

Sakuya loosened up her tensed body, so he’d expected her to be a bit more amicable, but she wasn’t that naive, it seemed. Her expression conveyed that while she trusted that she wasn’t in physical danger, she didn’t intend to say anything needless. 

Well, now... How do I get her to talk...? 

Ryoma had no intention of getting any information regarding the war out of Sakuya. The reason for that was simple; no matter what information she might give him, Ryoma had no way of confirming its credibility. 

Information was precious, of course. In the hands of an apt tactician, it could serve as a blade that would bring a whole country down. But some things mattered more than information. 

And what mattered more than the information was how accurate and current that information was. 

He could be provided with whatever information he wanted to hear, but so long as he couldn’t trust the person who delivered it, or had doubts about their motives, that information was meaningless. 

The boy who cried wolf continually tricked everyone around him, and as a result, no one believed him when he actually did see a wolf. The same held true in this case, too. 

Ignoring lies altogether was preferable to being fooled once. It was in many ways a safe decision. But that would mean Sakuya had no value to them. 

Or so it was, until Ryoma saw the weapon in her hands... 

“I’m not going to ask about who hired you. You wouldn’t talk anyway... And I have no way of knowing if anything you do say is true or not.” 

Sakuya’s expression changed at Ryoma’s words. If she were to take what Ryoma just said at face value, there was no value in Ryoma keeping her alive. 

Just what is he trying to get here? 

The small doubt rising inside Sakuya gradually began to cloud over her heart. Nothing was scarier than not knowing what your enemy had in store for you. 

“Then why keep me alive? I have no use for you.” Even as she said that, Sakuya already came to her conclusion inside. 

Yes, a reason any woman would pray from the bottom of her heart wasn’t the right one. 

Maybe he’s after my body...? 

Sakuya’s fear wasn’t unfounded. Her appearance was quite attractive. Her black hair was long and sleek, and her slightly tanned, healthy skin was soft and supple. Her assassin’s training resulted in her limbs and muscles being tight, but her breasts were still conspicuous enough. Put simply, she was more than beautiful enough to stir a man’s lust. 

Being an assassin, she’d seen time and again just how nasty and filthy of a place the world could be, and the fear of being forcefully ravaged by a man was always there in the back of her mind. 

She was resolved to lay down her own life if she failed in her assassination, but as a woman, it was hard for her to do away with the fear of having her body defiled. All the more so since she’d never known a man before. 

No... I don’t think that’s likely... Sakuya discarded that idea, her gaze quickly turning to Lione and the other women present. If that were the case, he wouldn’t have the other women attending. 

Putting aside those with extremely particular tendencies, few people enjoyed having their lovemaking seen by other people. And as far as Sakuya knew, Ryoma Mikoshiba wasn’t interested in such matters in the slightest. But if that was the case, his intentions were all the more unclear. 

“Well, I guess the biggest reason would be personal interest.” Ryoma answered, picking up on Sakuya’s doubts. 

“Personal interest?” Sakuya asked in a perplexed manner. 

“See this?” 

Ryoma stuck out Sakuya’s blade in front of her. 

“What about it?” Sakuya couldn’t understand what made Ryoma so interested. 

It was a katana with a blade of approximately 70 centimeters. And Sakuya realized this wasn’t a weapon one saw often on the western continent. But it was too weak of a reason for Ryoma to keep an assassin alive, let alone one caught trying to take his own life. 

“This is a good katana. The weight and workmanship are exquisite, too. And it’s practical, at that.” Ryoma nodded with satisfaction, drawing the katana from its scabbard and holding it up against the light. 

“Why do you use this?” 

Sakuya couldn’t understand the meaning behind Ryoma’s question. It was a tool for killing people. What other reason did an assassin need to use a weapon? But she did understand enough to know the man in front of her wouldn’t accept such an answer. 

Possible answers came and went in her mind, and Ryoma changed his question, seeing the doubt in her eyes. 

“Are you Japanese?” 

But Sakuya’s expression didn’t change at that question, either. She looked like a person who’d just heard some sort of unfamiliar jargon. 

“What’s that...? I don’t understand.” 

Ryoma didn’t expect Sakuya would answer like that. 

What the hell? She’s a black haired, black-eyed assassin wielding a katana, and her skin’s tanned, but she looks like she’s from the yellow race... But when I ask her if she’s Japanese, she doesn’t react...? So she’s basically a shinobi with a katana, who doesn’t have anything to do with Japan? Is this some kind of society that’s unique to this Earth? Or just a coincidence...? No, the color of her skin and her name have to mean she’s somehow related to Japan. If it was just one thing I’d pass it off as a coincidence, but when so many things align... 

Countless questions clashed in Ryoma’s mind. He’d had Sara keep an eye on her so far, and this was the first time he’d seen her face. He’d seen her from afar and learned she had black hair two days ago. He’d only learned her name was Sakuya during the previous day’s meeting. 

Ryoma wasn’t aware of it at the time, but when Sara told him her name was Sakuya, his heart was filled with longing. Sakuya. He could envision the characters for her name. Was it the characters for ‘night’ and ‘bloom’? Perhaps another combination? 

It could be several combinations, in truth, but whichever it was, the name ‘Sakuya’ had a distinctly Japanese ring to it. It was, if nothing else, not the sort of name a Westerner of non-mixed ethnic origin would have. She could very well be a Japanese person, just like him. 

Ryoma understandably suspected so. It had been over half a year since he was summoned to this world. Try as he might to not let it show, he was naturally overcome with homesickness. And all of a sudden, a person with what looked to be a connection to his homeland appeared. Feeling nostalgia at the sight of a fellow countryperson was only natural. 

Incidentally, Ryoma felt absolutely no affinity for Saitou, who had served the Empire of O’ltormea. He’d met Saitou soon after he was summoned, and feared for his life. Furthermore, Saitou had sided with the empire Ryoma loathed and made an attempt on Ryoma’s life, so the latter’s impression of him was about as negative as could be. 

In that regard, both Sakuya and Saitou made attempts on Ryoma’s life, but her motives and background were still unknown. Cutting her down just because she was on the enemy’s side was something his empathy couldn’t allow. She might have been summoned and forced to become an assassin, after all. 

There was also no denying that Sakuya was a woman, and a beautiful one at that. It wouldn’t be odd to feel inclined to try and help her if she were in need. 

Ryoma Mikoshiba was a cold and calculated person, but he was still human, and knew kindness and sympathy. It was these contradictions that made one human, after all. 

Just as a kind, helpful superior at work might go home and beat their spouse once they’re out of sight, so could a hated, overbearing superior actually be a warm, caring family man. 

In that regard, Ryoma was a fairly transparent person. He was driven by simplistic reasons. He wanted to survive. To live. And to do that, he would kill anyone without regret. 

But what if his life wasn’t in immediate danger, and a person in front of him was in need of help? It was only natural for someone to extend a helping hand in such a situation. 

Of course, he couldn’t make absolute promises that he’d save them at any cost. Some problems were well and truly beyond his ability to help. But he could at least hear them out; it was simply the human thing to do. 

And considering it was a beauty who may have come from the same country as him, he felt all the more inclined to help. No man would find fault with Ryoma over that. It was for these reasons that he had Sakuya captured. 

Or, put another way, were it not for these circumstances, Ryoma wouldn’t have allowed an assassin who made an attempt on his life to live. And so, Sakuya’s lack of reaction to the question of whether she was Japanese turned out to be something Ryoma didn’t account for. 

“Are you sure you’re not Japanese?” 

“What country is that? I don’t know of it. Is it outside the western continent?” 

He tried asking again, and Sakuya answered him clearly. 

“If you aren’t, then why do you have a Japanese katana?” Ryoma asked pensively. 

Another possibility surfaced in his mind. He recalled what the blacksmith whom the owner of the Sea Rumble Parlor had introduced him to had mentioned— that people in the eastern continent wield katanas. 

Maybe she’s from the eastern continent? Ryoma naturally concluded. 

But Sakuya’s answer was, once again, something Ryoma did not expect to hear. 

“Japanese katana? This is a weapon passed down within my clan.” 

“Passed down within your clan...?” 

Sakuya’s answer made Ryoma feel like something was off. 

“That’s right. Our clan uses katanas, and has done so for generations.” 

“Doesn’t everyone use katanas in the eastern continent?” 

“The eastern continent? We’ve never left the western continent.” 

Ryoma decided to put all the information he’d learned so far in order. This woman was called Sakuya, and had Japanese characteristics to her appearance. The weapon she used was a Japanese katana. 

In China and the Middle East, single-edged swords similar to katanas were sometimes used, but their construction and materials differed greatly, and Ryoma wasn’t so much of an amateur to not be able to tell the difference. 

But Sakuya didn’t know what a Japanese person was, nor did she know katanas were inherently a Japanese weapon, which was unthinkable for a modern Japanese person. No, in the modern age of information and the Internet, one could search the world over and be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t know about Japan or its connection to katanas. 

If nothing else, she wouldn’t be Japanese or of Japanese descent. In which case, there was little chance of Sakuya being forcibly summoned to this world. So was she a descendant of the eastern continent, then? Ryoma didn’t know if those that lived there shared physical attributes similar to Japanese otherworlders, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. 

If so, perhaps Sakuya’s name and physical attributes weren’t all that unusual. And the blacksmith did tell him katanas were used in the eastern continent. If so, it would make sense for her to use it as a weapon. 

That’s all just speculation, and I have no proof. But... that would explain a lot. 

After thinking of all that, Ryoma had to deny his own idea. Sakuya said this was a weapon passed down within her clan. If she was from the eastern continent, she wouldn’t say so. 

If nothing else, she wouldn’t have considered a katana to be an unusual enough weapon to claim that only her clan made use of it. 

And apparently, she’d never been to the eastern continent. Of course, her parents could have descended from there, and that would have resolved the issue neatly, but... 

Her clan, she said... A clan, eh...? 

There was no reason to take Sakuya at her word, but Ryoma didn’t doubt her. After all, even if she were lying, there would be no meaning in doing so. Given her nature as an assassin, it was unthinkable that she’d talk about her client’s identity, and if she were to start spilling details about that, Ryoma would immediately suspect that to be a lie. 

But Ryoma had asked her something completely unrelated to that. Of course, in some situations, one wouldn’t divulge such details to the enemy, but if that were the case, she’d have simply chosen to keep quiet, rather than go to the trouble of making up a lie. In that regard, Ryoma believed her words could be trusted. 

“Then, does everyone in your clan use katanas?” Ryoma asked a different question. 

“Yes.” 

“And you’re sure you aren’t from the eastern continent?” Ryoma asked once more, just to be sure, and was met with a silent shake of the head. 

Silence fell over the tent. The Malfist sisters wouldn’t interrupt Ryoma to begin with, and Lione and Boltz kept quiet. They likely had things to say, but were content with watching over the proceedings for now. 

“Sis... Just what exactly is the lad trying to figure out here?” Boltz whispered to Lione, who stood at his side. 

“Beats me... But it doesn’t look like it’s got anything to do with his tactics...” 

“Yeah, don’t seem that way to me either...” 

“Must be some kind of personal reason...” 

Anyone watching this exchange from inside the tent would come to that conclusion. 

“Well, whatever it is, we oughta just shut up and pay attention for now.” 

Boltz nodded quietly at Lione’s answer. 

“You mentioned a clan... How many are there of you?” Ryoma broke his long silence with a question. 

What’s his angle? Why is he so interested in my clan? 

Sakuya was desperate to find out just what the meaning behind his questions was, but any attempts to think about it were fruitless. 

“About two hundred...” Sakuya eventually answered. 

“Two hundred...” Ryoma chewed on her answer. 

Two hundred men. It was easy enough to say, but realistically, that was quite a lot of people. Imagining a wedding might make it clear enough. 

With all of the bride’s and groom’s relatives gathered along with their friends, having one hundred people was considered a lot. And if that number summed up to two hundred, it should give one an impression of just how many that would be. Ryoma’s surprise wasn’t unwarranted. 

“Do you live in some village, with that many of you?” 

Two hundred people was enough to populate a small village. Sakuya shook her head, however. 

“No.” 

“So you’re scattered across several villages?” 

“No.” She shook her head again. 

Ryoma was left perplexed. They neither lived together in one place, nor were they scattered across several villages. Which left only one option. 

“So you’re vagabonds, then.” 

Sakuya nodded. 

It was at that moment that a man’s hoarse voice boomed across the tent. 

“We have no choice but to do so. Such is our clan’s fate...” 

As the voice died down, an old man landed in front of the tent’s entrance. Was he atop the tent up until now? True, the tent’s poles were sturdy enough to support one’s weight, but the man was surprisingly limber for that. 

“Master Ryoma...” Sara and Lara whispered as they swiftly took to Ryoma’s side at the sight of this suspicious intruder. 

“It’s fine. Stay as you are... Same for everyone else.” 

Ryoma whispered back, and Lione nodded back, awaiting orders. 

Now then, an assassin clan... Looking forward to what he has to say... 

If it was an ambush things would be different, but there wasn’t much need to panic out of having one more assassin present, and so Ryoma felt comfortable enough to eye the old man curiously. 

But in contrast to Ryoma’s composure, Sakuya’s gaze was nailed to the old man. She likely didn’t expect him to be here, because her eyes were wide with shock. 

“Grandfather...” the words slipped from Sakuya’s lips, “Why are you here...?” 

The man had white hair and a white beard. Like Sakuya, he was dressed in black clothes and black leggings, and his face was etched with deep wrinkles that spoke of the hard life he’d led. In his hand was a bent cane that drew a small arc. 

“Oh... So my arrival does not surprise you... I’m not sure if you’re too foolish to realize the situation, or simply too gifted to understand...” 

Ignoring Sakuya’s situation, the old man whispered as he looked around the tent swiftly. 

“Oh, we’re definitely surprised. After all, we have an uninvited guest in our presence,” Ryoma replied with a calm smile, but from the old man’s point of view, no one looked at him with surprise. 

An impressive man. This young one... He has control over everyone present here. 

The old man was quite surprised. With the man at the top remaining composed, those under his command kept calm as well. In other words, young Ryoma Mikoshiba had complete control over the subordinates gathered here. 

But controlling the situation was easier said than done. And despite that, this boy easily succeeded where men with more years of experience would fail. 

“Hmph! Very well, then... I’ve just one thing to ask. Why did you spare this girl? What good would sparing an assassin who came for your life bring you? And why do you not try to capture me, when I have appeared so suddenly? It would be easy if you ordered the surrounding soldiers to do so.” 

“Oh? I thought you appeared in this tent because you already knew all that, old man. I was under the impression you’re aware of what I want to ask you,” Ryoma answered with a smirk. 

If his intent was to save Sakuya, he wouldn’t have spoken up and made such an entrance. The fact the old man revealed himself was proof he had cast aside all sense of enmity toward Ryoma. 

“I see, so you’ve already appraised the situation. You’re a calm whelp, aren’t you... In that case, allow me to ask you. Are you a man of Hinomoto?” The old man asked Ryoma back. 

His eyes were thick with an unyielding force of will that wouldn’t tolerate any lies. Hinomoto was an ancient term referring to Japan. In other words, “a man of Hinomoto” meant “Japanese.” But a modern Japanese person wouldn’t include such an archaic name in casual conversation. You’d only hear that term used in a historical novel, or at best, a film or TV series of a similar vein. 

“Yes, that’s right. I come from the place you call Hinomoto,” Ryoma nodded, and at the same time, the old man’s words made him come to his conclusion. 

A man of Hinomoto, he says... If he’s using such an old term for it, he’s... probably exactly what I think he is. 

“Hmm... I thought that the residents of Hinomoto had forsaken the ways of war in your time, and merely indulge in the spoils of hedonism instead... But it seems there were still warriors such as you among their numbers...” So said the old man, as he turned to Sakuya. “Sakuya. Stand and undo your clothes.” 

“Huh?” Sakuya went pale at his words. “What... Here...?” 

She was an assassin, but a woman nonetheless. She rose to her feet, but seemed hesitant to take off her clothes. Indeed, unless one had some truly unusual interests, most anyone would show resistance to the idea of stripping naked in front of multiple people. 

But that resistance seemed to have bought the old man’s ire. 

“Do not argue!” 

As the old man spoke, a glint of light flashed from his staff before being absorbed back into it. When Ryoma saw this, his eyes lit up with curiosity. 

“Ooh... Sword drawing techniques. You cut through her clothes without reaching her skin...” 

It was a slash performed with godspeed, that did away with any and all needless motion. And on top of that, he slashed only what he intended to cut, not damaging so much as a hair on anything else, marking him as an undisputed master of his craft. 

And as if to affirm Ryoma’s words, Sakuya’s clothes parted to the sides, fluttering to the ground in two cleanly cut halves, exposing two well-formed mounds adorned with red buds. 

The air in the tent froze over, and as everyone else was taken aback, Ryoma half-mockingly applauded as he praised the old man. 

“Your skill is quite impressive...” 

He could say that without a hint of exaggeration. His praise at this overwhelming display of skill was as honest as could be. 

The old man smiled at Ryoma’s words, and snuck a confirming view at Sakuya’s body. He then placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hmm, as I thought... He landed a blow directly to your weak spot. And the bruise is small... It wasn’t just a punch... A spear hand?” 

Ryoma responded by silently sticking out his fist. 

“Hmm... I see, you stuck out your index finger’s second joint...” The man whispered as he observed the way Ryoma clenched his fist. “Quite effective for aiming at one’s vulnerabilities...” 

“Yes, it’s a form of clutch called the finger knuckle fist.” 

The old man nodded at Ryoma’s answer and ran his hand over Sakuya’s abdomen, making her wince with pain. 

“Ow!” 

“Hm. So this is a bruise from a fist... Yes, yes, I see. You change the clutch of your fist based on where you hit. A similar technique is passed down in our clan... This one was meant to disrupt her breathing, yes?” 

“Right.” Ryoma nodded. 

“With your skill level, you could have killed Sakuya at any moment... Impressive.” The old man said, heaving a sigh. 

It was hard to tell if he was lamenting Sakuya’s abilities or admiring Ryoma’s. 

Hitting one’s weak points was easy enough a concept to verbalize, but being able to do it in the midst of combat was proof of the gap in skill between the two of them. 

Unlike injuries aimed at the eyes or one’s vulnerable privates, a blow to the shoulder or diaphragm required a great deal of strength and an accurate angle to exhibit its desired effects. One couldn’t simply hit those places and expect to cripple the opponent. 

The fact he could accurately strike at an assassin’s weak spots— while taking her by surprise in complete darkness, no less— spoke volumes about his skills. 

“Well, I did catch her off guard. No telling how it would end if we were fighting face to face.” 

It wasn’t a compliment or some attempt to console, but the old man scoffed at Ryoma’s remark. 

“Imbecile. What sort of assassin fights face to face?” 

His words made Ryoma smile bitterly. They certainly rang true. 

“Yes, I suppose so... Oh, wait. I’m rather concerned about Sakuya here, so allow me.” 

With that said, Ryoma went over to his bed, picked up a blanket and draped it over Sakuya’s shoulders. 

“Th-Thank you.” 

“Oh, no. This is just so I can look your way without hesitation.” 

Hearing Ryoma’s words, Sakuya covered her breasts with her arms, remembering that her top was slashed off. 

“Hmph. Don’t tell me you haven’t known a woman before, whelp?” 

“It’s not a question of knowing or not knowing.” Ryoma answered with a shrug. “This is simply the minimum amount of respect I’d show towards any woman.” 

Ryoma didn’t consider himself above being interested in women, but wasn’t the type to ogle a woman who’d had her clothes slashed off. Maybe if they were alone in a private room things would be different, but seeing how they were surrounded by other people, it felt all the more imprudent to do so. 

Ryoma wasn’t sure if that much consideration was even necessary in this world, but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to break his own moral code unless his life was at risk. 

“Now then... We have a few questions to ask ourselves. You don’t mind answering, right?” Ryoma changed the subject. 

He couldn’t keep answering this old man’s questions repeatedly, after all. It wasn’t clear who he was, or why he showed himself. 

“I do not mind...” The old man answered. “But I think you’ve already predicted most of the answers. Will you still ask, this late in the game?” 

“Expectations don’t always align with reality.” 

“I see...” The man said pensively. “You’re a cautious one... As a man leading an army should be. Very well, I will answer any question I can.” 

“Good. Then first, let me confirm something. Are you and your tribe descendants of people who were summoned?” 

“Aye, the first generation of our clan was summoned to this world some five centuries ago.” The old man promptly answered Ryoma’s question. “It is said a certain country in the western continent summoned them...” 

“Five centuries ago... Wait, the whole first generation? It wasn’t just one person?” 

Overtaken with surprise for a moment, Ryoma realized the old man had just off-handedly mentioned the most surprising detail yet. 

“Indeed. Our ancestors’ entire village was summoned.” 

“Their entire village...?” 

“Aye...” The old man nodded. “Though, it was a small village of twenty or so...” 

From what they were told, their ancestors were summoned along with the futons they slept in. It seemed the flow of time between this Earth and Rearth was the same, so a ritual being performed during the night wasn’t out of the question. 

“So is it possible to summon entire villages even now?” 

Ryoma didn’t recall of hearing about something this unnatural happening. Information traveled fast in his world, and if a whole village disappeared, it would cause quite the riot. 

“Nay, ’tis a thing of the past. The catalysts needed for summoning are precious few and harder to come by nowadays, so even a larger country could only manage a few summonings a year.” 

So that means... I pretty much got the shittiest roll of the dice... 

Only a few summonings a year for a large country... Ryoma didn’t know how many countries there were in this world, but he assumed all of them combined could summon at most two to three hundred people a year. And while Ryoma never saw himself as particularly lucky, if what this old man said was to be believed, he could only rue how truly rotten his luck was. 

After all, there were six billion people living in his world, so the probability of being picked out of all of them was astronomically small. 

“I see... Next question, then. Why are you still assassins?” 

They were summoned five hundred years ago. That was fine. But if they were summoned so long ago, why were they still working in that profession? How does an entire clan operate as assassins to begin with? This was something Ryoma wanted to check. 

“Ours was originally a clan of rappa.” 

Everyone but Ryoma and Sakuya looked at the old man with apprehension. But being Japanese, Ryoma knew the meaning of that word, though it was admittedly an archaic one. 

Rappa, otherwise known as suppa or kusa, were individuals who practiced a certain type of profession. They had many different names, but one stood out among the rest: 

Ninja. 

Yes, if this old man was to be trusted, Sakuya’s clan was a clan of ninjas. 

Oh, I see... I think I understand why their clan stayed as it was in the five hundred years since. 

Sure enough, if a ninja was thrown into a world torn asunder with warfare like this one, they would have no choice but to make use of their skills. They lived through five centuries in this world by polishing their combat skills. 

And since they claimed to be rappa, it meant Sakuya and her clan weren’t just assassins. They were adept at subterfuge, intelligence, disturbance and serving as bodyguards of important persons. 

“Hmm, I understand... By the way, which school were you from?” 

Of the ninja schools, the Iga and Koga were the most famous. Also, the house that controlled Kanto during the warring states period, Houjou, was served by the Fuuma clan, and the Uesugi house was served by Nokizaru. It was said the Togakushi school still remained in America. 

In short, there were quite a few schools, and so Ryoma asked purely out of curiosity. The old man seemed to have no interest in that, however. 

“I do not know. A rappa is a rappa. We steal, rob and kill. That’s all there is to it. Names matter not.” 

The name of their school truly wasn’t all that relevant. It may have been necessary if one were to make their name known throughout the land, but if they intended to only pass their skills down their clan, there truly was no need for a name to distinguish themselves from others. 

“And do you happen to know the name of the region your ancestors lived in?” 

“I do not know of its name, but it is passed down that they lived on a mountain adjacent to a lake.” The old man honestly answered Ryoma’s persistent questioning. 

There was no point in hiding this information. 

A lake... Lake Hiwa, maybe? So they’re probably descendants of the Koga or the Iga... 

Those were ninja villages most people in modern Japan had heard of. It was plausible enough. Or it might be the Lake Suwa, in which case they might be related to the Togakushi school, said to originate in the nearby mount Togakushi of the same name. 

I can’t say I’m not curious, but I should probably leave it at that. 

After all, ninjas were considered to date as far back as the Kamakura period. Some thirty schools were recorded in documents of the time, and if one were to count some uncertain legends that popped up over the years, there had been well over seventy schools. 

Their history was shrouded in darkness. And indeed, the mention of them tickled at one’s adventurous spirit, to say nothing of Ryoma’s personal interest in history. He would have loved to go deeper into the subject, but now wasn’t the time. 

“Very well... One last question, then.” Ryoma said. “Earlier, you answered my question with ‘this is our clan’s fate’... What did you mean by that?” 

The answer to this final question was one he couldn’t handily predict. Japanese ninja lived in their particular lands, and either sought out employers or work in the service of a particular master. There were likely plenty of people in power who would kill to have them in their employ. But regardless of that, they wandered without settling for five centuries. 

There had to have been some particular reason for that. And Ryoma’s question was an understandable one. He didn’t get to have it answered, though. 

“Mm. I cannot share that information with an outsider.” The old man’s face contorted significantly. “It touches on our clan’s rules, you see.” 

“I understand. My apologies for asking, then.” Ryoma bowed his head apologetically. 

“Oh... Are you not interested in knowing, though?” 

Ryoma gave up so easily that the old man instead asked him curiously. 

“I’ll pass. It’s not in my interest to pry into other people’s secrets... Besides, they say curiosity killed the cat.” 

It was natural instinct for one to harbor interest in other people’s secrets, and the more closely guarded a secret was, the more it piqued one’s curiosity. 

But secrets had reasons to be kept hidden, and what may be of little consequence for a stranger could mean the world to those involved. 

Having people come after my life because I know too much would be no joke... 

Life in this world was already worth little as it was. Ryoma’s point of view was that there was no need to put oneself in more risk than required. 

“That’s quite the restraint for one so young... You’ve certainly grasped my interest! My name is Genou. Genou Igasaki. I look forward to a prolonged friendship.” 

“Prolonged...?” Ryoma was taken aback by his words. 

This was all too sudden. 

“Drop the pretense. You saved Sakuya because you wanted to make her into your rappa, did you not? To that end, as her grandfather, I shall serve you alongside her!” 

Genou smirked as if he had just done Ryoma a favor. He had such a scowl until now that when he smiled, he looked like an amicable old man. 

“Grandfather...?” Sakuya asked fearfully. 

“What is it, Sakuya? Don’t tell me you’re dissatisfied with this...? Having failed your task, you should be dead right now. But Master Mikoshiba here saved your life. Letting this one use you is preferable, no?” 

Genou started referring to Ryoma as “Master Mikoshiba.” A definite step up from how he’d called him “you” or “whelp.” It seemed Genou was resolved to serve Ryoma. 

“Ah... Well... Yes.” Realizing Genou had come to a decision, Sakuya was left with no choice but to nod. 

“I’m sure you don’t mind, yes, Master Mikoshiba?” 

Genou’s question made Ryoma sink into thought. True, he intended to help her if she was Japanese, and he did consider putting her skills as an assassin to use, but the conversation spiraled out of control with Genou’s sudden appearance. 

What the hell’s going on here? 

This was a godsend from Ryoma’s perspective. Apart from Sara and Laura, he was in a convenient alliance at best with everyone else. Lione and Boltz were mercenaries that he was able to trust on a personal level, but there was no telling when the knights could possibly betray him. 

They only obeyed Ryoma’s orders because Princess Lupis had acknowledged him as commander. If Princess Lupis were to decide to abandon Ryoma instead, the knights would immediately ignore his orders. 

In that regard, having capable comrades on his side was something he was thankful for. Except... 

This is going too fast... These two showed up to kill me. But... They’re certainly worth using. If I can really get them on my side, it’d be really convenient... The only question is, what do they get out of asking me for this? But if they’re really thinking of serving me... 

Ryoma fixed his gaze on Genou. He was in dire need of useful pawns. 

I really need people who can handle intelligence... But how do I confirm if the information they bring me is true...? No... I guess that depends on my judgment... 

“Fine,” Ryoma concluded. 

At the end of the day, trusting someone always requires taking something of a gamble. 

“In that case, I and my granddaughter, Sakuya, will be entering your service as of today, Master Mikoshiba... Nay, milord.” 

Genou urged Sakuya to bow her head to Ryoma.

“Grandfather! What were you thinking?!” Sakuya finally let out her pent-up frustrations, lashing out at Genou. 

They were in a forest a short distance away from the moat, and Sakuya and Genou were the only ones in the vicinity. The only witness of their exchange was the moon floating in the night sky. 

“What are you so worked up over, girl?” 

Genou’s calm voice only served to irritate Sakuya further. 

“What, you ask...? Do you seriously intend to serve that man?!” 

“Are you dissatisfied?” Genou casually disregarded Sakuya’s outburst. 

“How would I not be?! To begin with, how would I simply accept forfeiting my original task and serving my assassination target?!” Complaints left Sakuya’s lips one after another. “What were you even doing there? I was the one specified for this job, so why were you following me?!” 

She was merely eighteen years of age, but was still considered very capable among the younger members of the clan. She wasn’t one to let it go to her head, but she did take pride in her assassin’s skills. 

But not only did she fail at her task, she was captured as well. That was irritating in and of itself, but having her grandfather— one of the clan’s elders— appear made it all the more humiliating. 

As one of the elders, Genou wasn’t one for active duty, and so the fact he was out there meant the elders doubted Sakuya’s skills. Sakuya thought her abilities were acknowledged, which only made her feel more humiliated. 

To top it all off, her grandfather had one-sidedly decided they would serve Ryoma Mikoshiba. Any expectation that she wouldn’t be upset would be exaggerated. 

But in her anger, Sakuya had forgotten that despite their blood connection, there was a great gap in social status between her and Genou. She could one day well inherit his position as an elder, but right now, she was nothing more than a skilled lower-class ninja. She must have been quite agitated to hurl so many complaints at a venerated elder. 

This little fool is still lacking when it comes to keeping her heart in check... To lose her temper over this... Genou whispered in his heart, eyeing Sakuya coldly as her anger lingered. But so be it. How long it has been since our clan found a prospective worthy master to serve? We mustn’t let this chance pass us by... 

Normally, he wasn’t one to stand for Sakuya to speak to him like this, which only went to show how elated he was. Enough so to not kill Sakuya where she stood. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to, girl?” The air chilled with murderous intent. 

Genou’s eyes narrowed like threads, glaring at Sakuya’s face. The girl broke into a cold, chilling sweat and fell to her knees. 

He’s going to kill me... Ah! What have I... What did I just...? 

Realizing she had been speaking above her place, Sakuya’s heart froze at once. The elders weren’t simply a gathering of old men and women. True, they didn’t take assassination requests, but this didn’t stand as proof of their lack of skill or weakness. 

They had spent the majority of their life engaging in dirty work, and were graced with trueborn talent that brought them to the age of sixty. Skilled as she was, a mere eighteen-year-old like Sakuya couldn’t hope to compare to them for the sheer amount of times they’d experienced battles to the death. 

The murderous intent radiating from her grandfather dragged Sakuya back to reality. 

“I-I apologize. I was out of line, speaking in that manner,” Sakuya just barely managed to squeeze out those words of apology. 

“It is fine...” Genou looked away from his granddaughter, who groveled at his feet. “I understand your reasoning. True enough, having accepted a job, you have a responsibility to see it through... But killing that man would be a waste.” 

“You think he’s worth using...?” Sakuya asked timidly. “But what of the contract...?” 

Contracts were especially binding for assassins. An untrustworthy assassin would never be hired, especially one that elected to serve their assassination target. It could have implications on the clan’s livelihood and survival. 

Genou, however, scoffed at Sakuya’s objection. 

“A trifling matter. Contracts are for peace of mind and nothing more! You are well aware of the humiliation our clan has been subjected to! Do you truly believe that noble Gelhart will give us the reward we were promised?” 

Genou’s words left Sakuya speechless. Some people would shower them with promises when signing the contract, only to skimp out on the payment once the job was done. The truly vile sent soldiers to eliminate them instead. Sakuya had been betrayed by clients several times in the past already. 

And Duke Gelhart was infamous for his stinginess. The amount he specified this time was unusually high, but whether he would actually pay that much was a different matter altogether. 

“But won’t that reduce the number of clients we’ll receive in the future...?” 

“I do not mind. Not being able to work in this country is hardly an issue. We are vagabonds, when all is said and done. We need simply work in another country. I’m sure there’s no shortage of lands that would desire our services. But what interests me much more is that man... He may very well be...” 

Genou’s words trailed off. 

I mustn’t tell Sakuya yet... And I must report this to the elder council... But that man. Were he simply a soft-hearted man, he’d have been a disappointment. But the skill I sensed from him... If I am not mistaken, our days of wandering may be at an end. 

Genou whispered in his heart, recalling the events of the day. When Sakuya was captured, he was resolved to see his granddaughter’s death. 

Even among the clan, Sakuya was especially skilled, and was given considerable training. The elder council did not consider her to have simply been a ninja obeying orders. And so they dispatched her grandfather, Genou, to serve as insurance. 

He was to confirm Sakuya’s skills, and if she failed in her attempt, Genou was to take responsibility for the situation with his own two hands. 

But even regardless of a grandfather’s biased eyes, Sakuya’s skills were impressive. Her nimbleness, the way she cloaked her presence, her resolve. They were all more than up to the highest standards. 

But she was up against the wrong person. 

Or rather, up against the worst possible match. Thanks to his long training, Genou’s night vision was superior to Sakuya’s, and having cut a peephole at the top of the tent, he was able to see the full details of Ryoma’s plot. 

He placed a corpse clad in armor in his bed, and stood like a model clad in armor himself... 

Ryoma sat at the corner of the tent, posing as a figurehead that had armor placed on it. That alone was more than enough to fool any intruders to the tent without any illumination. 

Leaving the armored corpse on the bed, he awaited Sakuya’s arrival. Sakuya would never suspect someone would go to sleep in bed still wearing their armor, causing a momentary gap in her caution when the blade was deflected. And it was all too easy for Ryoma Mikoshiba to strike at the weak point of a staggered, surprised person. 

Genou could only admire Ryoma’s ploy. 

“So, grandfather... Why did you choose to serve that man?” Sakuya called out to Genou, who had sunk into silent contemplation. 

This was one thing Sakuya wanted explained to her, even if it meant spurring the old man’s anger. 

“I suspect our clan’s vagabond ways may come to an end soon.” 

“Huh?!” Sakuya couldn’t suppress her surprise at Genou’s words. 

Their clan had wandered this world for five hundred long years. And the old man just said that may come to an end. 

“What do you mean by that...?” 

“You have no need to know yet... It is only in the realm of possibility right now. Now then, are you done with your questions? Our Lord has given us two days. We won’t make it if we dawdle much further.” 

Genou concluded his words, and turned around, heading deeper into the forest. 

Their clan was currently secretly residing in the forest twenty kilometers north of Heraklion. Ryoma only gave them a two-day time period. Even with their tempered physical conditions, it was only barely enough time to make a round trip and report to the elder council. 

“Yes, grandfather,” Sakuya nodded before taking off after Genou.

“Just what is the meaning of this, Genou?” one of the elders raised his voice in a shout. “Was it not your task to carry on Sakuya’s task should she fail?! To cancel it and swear to serve your assassination target is unheard of!” 

Their anger was not unjustified. Even Sakuya, who sat across from her grandfather, didn’t quite fathom what the old man was thinking. 

“W-Well...” Sakuya herself wanted to ask the same question. 

If nothing else, she had no intent on giving up on her contract, but had no choice but to obey her grandfather, who was also one of the elders. Sakuya parted her lips to explain, but another elder cut into her words. 

“Silence. No one asked you... This all happened because you failed to carry out your duties! You were supposedly skilled among the lower-ranking ninjas, but it seems our expectations were misplaced. And you have the audacity to return to us alive? By whose permission are you even present here to begin with?!” 

The shout echoed through the small wooden cabin. The only people usually permitted entrance to this place were the five elders who decided the goings-on of the Igasaki clan. Even with Sakuya being Genou’s granddaughter, she was still a mere lower-ranking ninja and wasn’t permitted to be here. 

But she was involved with this incident, and thus her presence here was required. She would have to report on what happened, if nothing else. And still, angry shouts bore down on her one after another. 

“To start with, you...” 

Sakuya wanted nothing more than for them to quiet down and give her a chance to explain herself. Unable to watch Sakuya’s plight any longer, another elder who had been observing the conversation parted her lips to speak. 

“Now, now, Ryusai. No need to raise your voice. Sakuya was merely abiding by Genou’s orders, as any lower-ranking ninja should. Accusing her over that would be unjust.” 

It was an old woman clad in a reddish-brown garment, her face wrought with wrinkles and her white hair tied in the back. 

“It is just as Ume says...” another old woman sitting next to her nodded. “And I doubt Genou would act the way he did on a whim. Should we not hear his reason first, Jinnai?” 

With that said, the old woman looked around, her thread-like eyes shining sharply. Scrutinized by that glare, the old man who had shouted at Sakuya sat back down in annoyance. 

The women who placated the shouting old men were the two female elders, Ume and Sae. Along with Genou and the other two men, Ryusai and Jinnai, they formed the elder council. 

Unsatisfied as the two men were, they were mediated by fellow elders. Both Ryusai, who had raised his voice, and Jinnai, who blamed Sakuya, had no choice but to restrain themselves. Still, this wasn’t to say Sae and Ume blindly sided with Genou. 

“And still, Genou, Ryusai’s and Jinnai’s outrage is justified...” Ume said, directing a sharp glance in Genou’s direction. “We expect a convincing explanation.” 

“That we do.” Sae also looked in Genou’s direction. “Surely you didn’t act out of some manner of whim.” 

They were simply neutral and wanted to avoid not listening to the circumstances out of blind emotion; they certainly weren’t tacitly consenting to Genou’s actions. 

But even in the face of the cold gazes directed his way, Genou parted his lips calmly. 

“That man may be the one the first generation was looking for... At least, from what I’ve felt of him, it’s quite possible.” 

The air froze over at those words. 

“Genou... Is that...” 

“It cannot be...” 

The elders’ expression turned surprised. 

“Are you sure, Genou...?” 

“If that is true, we... No good! We must quickly go and greet him!” Ryusai said, and was met with a nod from Jinnai. 

Sakuya could hardly contain her shock as she watched the normally calm members of the council react with dismay. 

“Wait! I said it is just a possibility.” 

““But—!”” 

Ryusai and Jinnai’s voices overlapped as they spoke out against Genou’s attempt to restrain them. 

Their attitude was the opposite of how it had been earlier. But both Ryusai and Jinnai realized the grave importance of what Genou said. 

“Enough!” Genou raised his voice. 

“Just restrain yourselves, Genou merely brought it up as a possibility... Though we won’t deny we feel the same way as you two...” Ume turned her face to Genou, trying to placate the argument that broke out. “You have no doubt that he is of Hinomoto, like the ones of the first generation?” 

“His eyes and hair are black just like ours, and his skin is yellow. And he called Sakuya ‘Japanese’... There is no mistaking that he is a man of Hinomoto.” 

“I see, so there’s no problem with his bloodline...” Sae whispered softly. “The rest depends on his nature and heart... Though I suppose it’s not something we can conclude so quickly.” 

“Ume, Sae, don’t you think we should meet that person as soon as possible after all? It would be too late if anything should happen.” 

“Ryusai speaks the truth. He is currently in the midst of war with Duke Gelhart. Even if we give up on our contract, the duke might simply hire another assassin. What if something were to happen? Our chance to accomplish the clan’s goal would become all the more remote.” 

Ryusai and Jinnai were both the proactive type. By contrast, the two women, Sae and Ume, were more cautious. 

“Oh, we have no need to hurry. If he is the one the first generation sought, he will surely survive by his own strength.” 

“Truly... We’ve already waited for five hundred years... We can introduce him to the clan once we’ve confirmed his nature...” 

With three of the five elders advocating a cautious approach, Ryusai and Jinnai couldn’t object any further. 

“For now, Sakuya and I will return to his side. I doubt it would take much time for his worth to become evident. What say you we use his war with Duke Gelhart to ascertain his prowess, my friends? Will you lend me your aid this time?” 

Genou looked around. 

“If you say so, Genou, I have no objection.” 

“I agree with Ume.” 

Since Ume and Sae were in agreement, the matter was all but decided. But Jinnai parted his lips to speak again. 

“If you are that confident in his abilities that you have seen, I suppose that it is fine. But will you and Sakuya be alright on your own? We could send the rest of the clan’s younglings.” 

“I concur with Jinnai. There’s no telling what might happen on the battlefield! Better to have safety in numbers, don’t you agree, Genou?” 

Ryusai and Jinnai held no grudge against Genou. The two proposed the idea entirely out of concern for Ryoma’s well-being, and it was because he knew this that Genou didn’t coldly refuse their words. 

“No... Considering the situation, he would have no reason to trust us. Bringing the younglings along without his knowledge and approval would be foolish. And since it is all still in the realm of possibility, letting the younglings know of him would be premature.” 

“Fair points,” Ume gave a light nod. “If we bring such large numbers to him, he would surely become cautious of us.” 

“Aye, it is as Ume says. First, we must allow Genou to serve him loyally, so he gradually learns to trust us.” 

“That sounds reasonable...” Jinnai nodded deeply at her words, turning his gaze to Ryusai. “What say you, Ryusai?” 

With that much said, Ryusai couldn’t object much longer. 

“I was a bit short-tempered, it seems.” Ryusai scratched his head with a wry smile. “Hearing the man the first generation hoped for may finally be upon us seems to have made me flare up somewhat.” 

“We cannot fault you for it.” Genou regarded him with a calm smile. “Our clan’s most ardent wish may be on the cusp of being realized, after all.” 

At that moment, someone knocked on the door to their hut. 

“Who is it?! We are in the middle of an important discussion right now!” 

Jinnai swiftly rose to his feet and opened the door. 

“It is you, Kojirou...” Jinnai’s expression changed when he saw the middle-aged man before him gasping for air. “Why so pale?” 

“There is urgent news I must relay to you...” 

It must have been quite important, Jinnai thought as he brought his ears to Kojirou’s lips. 

“Yes... Mmm, mmm... What?!” Jinnai exclaimed. “The Divine Sword has hummed?!” 

Raising one’s voice like that was unacceptable for a ninja, but no one present could find in themselves to chastise Jinnai for it. They could all simply feel the heavy silence bearing down on them as they struggled to process what Jinnai had just said.

It had been several days since Genou Igasaki spoke to the elder council. 

Ryoma stood in his tent at the center of the camp, his heart absolutely mesmerized by the katana Genou had given him. It was no famous blade, but swords that had gained any kind of fame mostly owed that fame not so much to their quality, but rather to the person who wielded the blade, or to the history given to it. 

For instance, the Dojigiri Yasutsuna, one of the blades celebrated as the Five Greatest Swords Under the Heavens, was known for the legend of how Watanabe no Tsuna, a warrior of the Minamoto clan, used it to sever an Oni’s hand. Dubious authenticity of the tale aside, famous swords tend to have such legends attached to them. 

But unfortunately, the katana in Ryoma’s hands had no such history. In that regard, it couldn’t be called a famous or excellent sword. But even if Ryoma did have that kind of sword in hand to start with, he’d be too awestruck to use it. 

It doesn’t have much in terms of artistic value, but it’s certainly the best kind of weapon I could hope to find. 

It was about 70 cm in length. The katana was of the typical variant used in normal combat, curved along the center of the blade. Since it was meant to be used on the battlefield, its guard and grip were entirely unadorned, in what was called Satsuma workmanship, and the blade was about twice as thick as an ordinary blade. 

The rivets on the grip of a katana were usually bamboo, but this one used steel that would not bend easily. The grip, normally constructed to prevent it slipping out of the hand due to sweat, wasn’t coated with silk, but rather with some kind of animal leather. In terms of devotion to practicality, it was no work of art, but more akin to a blade designed for manslaughter. 

“Master Ryoma... Are you sure you can trust them?” Laura asked her master in a concerned, timid manner, as he eyed the sword adoringly. 

She honestly couldn’t recall many times she’d seen Ryoma in this much of a good mood. She didn’t want to ask anything too contrary of him, but on the other hand, Ryoma was acting so unlike himself that she couldn’t help but do so. 

“Huh...? Oh, you mean Genou?” Ryoma said, drawing the sword in his hands. 

He was seated on a carpet spread over the ground, swinging the sword upward. 

“What do you think? Isn’t this glint just beautiful?” 

Without answering Laura’s question, Ryoma eyed the light shining off the blade. 

“Master Ryoma!” 

“What? Are you that worried about them?” Ryoma asked, wincing at Laura’s angry rebuke. 

“Yes... You do remember they were assassins who came for your life, yes? There’s no telling whether they might double cross you...” 

This was a possibility Ryoma had considered, of course. There was no reason to believe what Genou Igasaki and his granddaughter said. But even with that obvious doubt pointed out, Ryoma simply smiled with composure. 

“That’s been obvious from the get-go. I was going to let them go free from the start, at least for the moment... But I guess things did go a bit off schedule.” 

“Be serious about this! Is it not that sword which occupies your full attention?!” Her eyes glared at the katana Genou had presented to Ryoma. 

“Well, I suppose you got me there. It’s not exactly inconsequential,” Ryoma admitted unapologetically. 

He probably knew there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. 

“But in their defense, they did come back by the appointed time.” 

Laura couldn’t argue back much more than she already had at that response. After all, of all the leading forces, Ryoma was alone in his belief that Genou would return. 

On that night, Genou and Sakuya said they wanted to leave the camp so they could report the situation to their clan, and Ryoma allowed it. Laura and Sara were vehemently against it, as were Lione and Boltz, but Ryoma didn’t lend their apprehensions any concern. 

Ryoma couldn’t tell if Genou truly intended to serve him at the time, but he also thought that the one thing they wouldn’t do was just up and disappear somewhere. They wouldn’t flee if they gave up on the assassination, and if they didn’t give up on it, they had all the more reason to stay by their target’s side. 

“That much is true, but...” Laura responded to Ryoma’s words with dissatisfaction. 

And that dissatisfaction was understandable. The Malfist sisters had now spent six months at Ryoma’s side, and their loyalty to him was all the more rigid for it, but that didn’t mean their obedience to him was blind. 

The two certainly thought and acted of their own wills; while they respected Ryoma, and certainly wouldn’t do anything to harm him, they would actively warn and remonstrate with him. Ryoma Mikoshiba was a strong and wise man, but they both knew he was no invincible hero. 

I don’t care if he despises or shuns us for it... Our role is to point out whenever he overlooks something. 

That was the role the sisters imposed on themselves, and Ryoma understood this very well. That was why he trusted them. 

“Well, your concerns are definitely valid and understandable. I don’t trust them very much either. You two are the only subordinates I have absolute trust in... You know that, right?” 

Laura nodded. The twins both realized this wasn’t a situation where they could view their position optimistically. It was in this regard that gaining more subordinates he could use couldn’t be seen as a mistake. 

“That said, however... You say you can’t trust the soldiers, but does the same not hold true for them as well?” 

The soldiers Princess Lupis lent him and the assassins dispatched to assassinate her master were all untrustworthy. But from Laura’s perspective, the knights were the more dependable party in this situation. Sara was of similar mind, though she was currently away, showing Sakuya and Genou around the camp. 

While neither group was trustworthy, the knights would at least refrain from harming Ryoma unless they were ordered to by the princess. Ryoma, however seemed to suspect the opposite, thinking Genou was more worthy of trust than the knights were. 

“They are, but... Laura, you’re misunderstanding something... Well, never mind. I’ll just make this into your homework, so once you figure out what I mean, tell me.” 

“Homework...?” 

“Yeah, think about it with Sara and Lione... Oh, but not Boltz. He’d understand what I mean.” 

Ryoma had recently taken to saying things like this, as if to teach Laura and Sara how to think more independently. He only had a few dependable subordinates, so he chose to make each individual one stronger. 

Trying to understand the reasons behind Ryoma’s actions would not only teach them how to think, it would also allow them to understand his nature as a person better, thus killing two birds with one stone. 

Boltz, however, had lifelong experience that granted him such wisdom. He was a commander on the field, and thus, Ryoma couldn’t pull him back from the frontlines, but he did want to have Boltz by his side and hear his opinions; almost as much so as he relied on the twins. 

“Very well... But are you quite sure that katana isn’t the reason?” Laura glared at the sword in his hands again. 

“Sigh... Don’t you trust me? I mean... I’m not dumb enough to put my trust in someone just because they gave me a sword.” Ryoma shook his head in exasperation. 

Laura didn’t back down, however, her gaze bursting with sarcasm as she turned towards a spear propped up in the corner of Ryoma’s tent. 

“I do believe they also presented you with that spear over there, yes?” 

That spear had a shape unlike anything Ryoma saw before. Most of the spears used commonly in the western continent had straight tips, not unlike swords. Some were halberds, which had axe-like spearheads attached to them, but they weren’t the most accepted type. 

But he’d never seen a cross-shaped spear with hooks on both sides of the blade before. Inspecting it more closely, some kind of metallic tube dangled from its hilt. 

“Ah... Yeah, they did give me that cross-shaped spear, but, uh... Seriously, just because they gave me stuff doesn’t mean I trust them. Honest.” 

Laura only barely managed to hold back a smile over how Ryoma’s words sounded like poor excuses. The more he pressed those claims, the less credible they sounded. 

“Well, never mind. I have no objections, as long as you’ve thought your decisions through before making them.” Laura said before bowing her head and leaving the tent. 

It seemed she had nothing more to say on the matter. At worst, even if Ryoma was fooled, the twins were prepared to defend Ryoma with their own bodies if they had to. 

“Is she mad or something?” Ryoma, left alone in the tent, muttered to himself. 

He’d only realized it recently, but Laura and Sara were vaguely similar to his cousin, Asuka. Or rather, they were exactly the same as her when the time came to make a statement against him. 

“Well, no big deal, I guess... I can’t deny that this is a pretty sweet gift...” 

Ryoma understood that the sword Genou presented him with was more impressive than he’d ever imagined. The blade was thicker than standard, and the length was suited for fighting on the battlefield. 

But the sweetest part of the deal wasn’t the gift itself, but the fact that Genou promised to handle the everyday maintenance of the katana. Ryoma could have handled it, but he didn’t have the means to fix any nicks in the blade or keep it whetted. In particular, the latter required the aid of an expert. 

A sword used in real combat would suffer regular chips and nicks, with the blood of its victims sticking to the blade and dulling it over time. The hilt itself was covered in yarn to prevent slips in the hand, but spatters of blood could very well seep into the yarn and cause it to decay. 

The sword wasn’t made to be an object of art, and so it didn’t have any coat of arms or any signs of unique craftsmanship. Its appearance was, in all honesty, trivial, but one couldn’t take a sword bereft of its edge to the battlefield. 

With that in mind, a sword that one couldn’t properly maintain wasn’t a truly viable weapon. But Genou had resolved that problem, and Ryoma couldn’t help but feel grateful for it. 

“I’m glad I set this as a condition...” 

Upon hearing Genou’s request, Ryoma set this katana as a bargaining point. He’d thought of it upon seeing Sakuya’s katana, but what he’d been given was of a higher quality than he’d imagined. 

“Still, I can’t exactly trust them over this alone...” 

On its own, he was grateful for their giving him the katana and the spear, as the martial arts his grandfather taught him did make use of katanas and spears. He could use the spears and swords of this world, but he was more accustomed and comfortable fighting with a cross-shaped spear and katana. 

But even with that said, Ryoma wasn’t naive enough to put his faith in Genou just because he gave him things he wanted. 

“Genou Igasaki and his granddaughter, Sakuya... Descendants of Tateoka no Doshu, from the looks of it.” 

There was a text known as the Bansensh?kai, composed during the Edo Period of Japan. It was a ninjutsu text composed by the Fujibayashi clan, one of the three greater ninja houses of the Iga, but it included records of the active Iga school ninjas who were active during the late Warring States Period. 

It included the names of renowned masters, like Shimotsuge no Kizaru and Otowa no Kido. And it also extended to Tateoka no Doshu— otherwise known as Igasaki Doshun. 

Genou made no claims to being part of the Iga school, but judging from his distinctive last name of Igasaki, it was likely he was distantly related to Igasaki Doshun. 

The ninjas of the Igasaki were famous for training their young strictly from infancy, and their skill was acknowledged far and wide. Assuming he could form a relationship of trust with them, it would be a windfall for Ryoma. 

It’d probably be best if I don’t do anything unnecessary until I win the war with Duke Gelhart, though... The question is how much this tactic will pay off... 

Now that he’d used up his ace of the flooding attack, he could only rely on this tactic to swing the tides of the coming battle. 

It’s been five days since Kael’s attack, and Duke Gelhart’s being quieter than I expected. Is my tactic being effective, or is he pulling something behind the scenes...? Whichever it is, there’s still two more days until Princess Lupis arrives. The final battle’s right ahead of us... 

A sunset not unlike any other sluggishly sank below the horizon. 

Now then, how will things go? 

Ryoma wasn’t one to believe in God. But right now, he did want to pray for a victory in the upcoming battle against Duke Gelhart...

“Are the formations ready?!” Duke Gelhart’s angry shout echoed through his office, with no less vigor than any prior day. 

After Kael’s crushing defeat, Duke Gelhart sent a mobilization order to the rest of the nobles’ faction. In addition to the thirty thousand troops already gathered in Heraklion, he called for them to gather the soldiers scattered across their territories and concentrate their armies in the city. 

The time he’d given for them to do so was two days, but fewer nobles than expected had heeded his call. But it wasn’t just the nobles who were the problem. 

“No, it’s taking longer than expected...” one of his aides reported, prepared for the duke’s rage to rain down on him. 

“Idiots! Why are they taking their time?! It’s been three days since I gave the order! I don’t care if you have to extort the nobles, tell them to be in Heraklion by tomorrow!” 

“But... The problem isn’t with the nobles...” the aide desperately clung to his claims. 

He would be held responsible for any half-baked orders he would receive and fail to fulfill, so if he didn’t inform his master that his impossible requests were exactly that, it would be his head on the chopping block. 

“What do you mean?! What is the problem, then?!” 

Duke Gelhart’s words prompted the aide to fearfully explain the situation, which turned out to be a more severe problem than Duke Gelhart had ever imagined. 

Just what is going on here? Why are the commoners refusing to conscript?! They were promised they could take the gear of any enemies they kill! 

Having heard his aide’s explanation, Duke Gelhart sent everyone away from his room, sinking into his chair gravely. 

No... I know exactly what the reason is. It’s all his fault... 

Ryoma Mikoshiba’s name surfaced in Duke Gelhart’s mind. 

The aide’s explanation was as such: after Kael’s loss of six thousand men, Duke Gelhart’s forces stood at just below sixty thousand men. That included the territories directly under Duke Gelhart’s control, as well as the conscripted commoners of the rest of the nobles’ faction. 

The problem began with the fact that Heraklion lacked the production capacity to support sixty thousand men. Or rather, any city imaginable lacked such a capacity. 

Perhaps things were different for a country as large as the Empire of O’ltormea, but Rhoadseria’s territories, at least, didn’t have any such cities. What this meant was that their total force of sixty thousand could only be used for a limited time. 

And now, Duke Gelhart had sent a mobilization order to take down Ryoma’s force of a mere two thousand. That was likely because Princess Lupis was approaching Heraklion using the bridgehead Ryoma secured. 

If he was going to send all his forces to clash against the princess, using it to crush the nuisance currently before his eyes felt like a natural progression for the duke, and so he issued his mobilization order. But it wasn’t being heeded. 

The reason it was being ignored was because of a rumor that spread among the commoners, reaching as far as the villages and territories belonging to the nobles’ faction. 

Even now, that bloody idiot Kael gets in my way! 

Duke Gelhart cursed in his heart. His anger was great enough that if Kael was before his eyes right now, he may well have cut him down with his own two hands. 

Ryoma’s flooding attack claimed six thousand out of Kael’s eight thousand men, and exaggerated news of the event had spread to Heraklion and its surrounding villages. 

“Hey! Have you heard? Sir Kael lost!” 

“Yeah, I hear he lost despite having four times the enemy’s forces, right?” 

“Yeah... Apparently most of his men got slaughtered.” 

“Whoa, scary...” 

“Hey, d’you know who the enemy commander was?” 

“Yes... They say it’s some cold-blooded demon named Ryoma Mikoshiba.” 

“The hell?! A demon? That’s ridiculous!” 

“Idiot! You can’t just talk like that! They say he flooded the Thebes to drown Sir Kael’s soldiers!” 

“For real...? Thaumaturgy can’t accomplish such a thing, right...? Can a human even do that?” 

“What’d I tell you? He’s a demon!” 

Those kinds of baseless rumors were spreading like wildfire. The commoners were going around telling stories that would make Ryoma himself laugh out loud had he heard them. The commoners certainly weren’t laughing, though. 

That devil was their enemy, after all. 

“Hey... Doesn’t this sound really bad for us?” 

“Yeah... They say he shows no mercy to his enemies...” 

“I heard he slaughters all his prisoners, too.” 

Truth and lies mingled to form the single image of a devil named Ryoma Mikoshiba. And as those rumors were circulating, the mobilization order was handed down. Most people wouldn’t dare volunteer to become soldiers in that situation unless they were truly and utterly mad. 

And so, regardless of the mobilization order, only thirty thousand gathered under Duke Gelhart’s banner. 

“Blast it all!” Malice spilled from Duke Gelhart’s lips. 

The situation was far worse than he had imagined. He’d had his aides deploy knights to the farmlands and forcibly gather soldiers, but it seemed that gathering the sixty thousand he expected to have would be impossible. 

“Fifty thousand at best... No, under the circumstances, that’s an optimistic estimate... If worse comes to worst, we won’t even reach that number...” 

If they were to be too forceful with coercing the commoners, they could very well just panic and flee the villages. Such was the extent of the fear which Ryoma Mikoshiba had whipped up within them. 

In terms of quality, he would never be able to gather the sort of knights Princess Lupis had on her side. He absolutely needed the numerical advantage to bridge that gap— but he couldn’t gather those numbers. 

“It can’t be.” An ominous thought crossed the duke’s mind. “Is this all part of the enemy’s plan...?” 

Kael’s defeat was an inconvenient truth, but how did it spread among the commoners in such precise detail? This situation was all too disadvantageous for Duke Gelhart, and if this was some manner of coincidence, he would have wanted to choke the life out of the gods. 

But what if it wasn’t a coincidence? What if the enemy spun their plot not just against the eight thousand before their eyes, but while looking over the situation from a wider perspective? Maybe their objective wasn’t simply to drown his soldiers to death. 

What if the man who spread that rumor was Ryoma Mikoshiba himself? 

“No... It can’t be... That’s not possible! If that were the case... he’d have to be some sort of devil who can see the future!” 

Gelhart brushed off the terror starting to creep over his mind. But his heart surely feared Ryoma Mikoshiba— and that fear would go on to change Ryoma’s own fate.