Fourteenth Day of the Second Month, Year One Thousand Ten of the Reign of the Ichiya Dynasty

Misao

Two days of travel finally brought the trio out of the Black Forest. Sakura had, unsurprisingly, been very helpful. For all that Himari had apparently initially argued the point, Misao was glad that she had chosen to accompany the two Chosen. The fact that she and Himari were getting on well was its own relief. Misao had hoped that they would have time to tease the pair about it, but the sight of Shippai Mura in the valley below them had removed any opportunity for that.

“Are you ready, Tenth?” They looked to Himari. “It’s hard to say what will happen from here, so we should be prepared for anything.” Their eyes turned to Sakura. In contrast to their usual light expression, Misao was projecting full seriousness. “Sakura-san, you should stay here. I don’t know how the soldiers will respond to you.”

“Or how they will respond to you,” Sakura retorted. “What if your Usurper has already persuaded them to her side? I could help, you know!”

Misao lifted their hand to cut off the protest. “This isn’t under debate, Sakura-san. You aren’t wrong, but the more we have to explain in the short term, the more difficult this task will be. I need you to trust me on this, ok?”

Sakura’s cheeks puffed out. For a creature that was older than both Himari and Misao combined, she acted much like she was the youngest. But it was Himari who spoke next. “Sakura-chan. I know that it seems difficult, but if you don’t trust Misao-sama, then trust me alright? If anything happens, if we need you, I’ll reach out to you and we’ll retreat. Promise.”

Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head. “Ok,” she nodded, her insistence pulling back. “I trust you. But Misao-san, if anything happens to Himari-chan, I will curse you.”

Misao chuckled. She had to be joking. Right? Regardless, as Sakura slipped back in the woods, the two Samurai made their way down towards the village.

By Misao’s count, the village had grown to about three to four hundred people, at least for what it should have been housing. Shippai Mura was theoretically on the border between Seifu and its Eastern neighbor; Chōwa. But of course, any soldier knew that a place like this was no distinguished posting. Chōwa’s closest city was a ten day’s ride away, and the two countries had never held animosity between them. As such, Shippai Mura had become a place for problem soldiers. Not criminals, of course, but those who liked to question orders or failed in a way that got people killed.

Misao’s eyes watched warily as the two made stood at the front gate. The guards weren’t standing at attention, and didn’t seem bothered to rise to attention even though both of them had opted to wear their Chosen regalia. A bead of sweat dripped down Misao’s face. Had they miscalculated so badly?

“Soldier,” Himari broke the silence before Misao could. “We have urgent business with the commander in this village. Please lead us to them with all due haste.”

One of the soldiers, a mountain of a man, grunted at her and approached. “Excuse me? And who do you think YOU are?” He glared down at her, his hand teasing at his sword.

Misao stepped forward to try and head him off, but Himari again spoke before he could get a word in. “I am Sato Himari, Tenth Chosen of Emperor Ichiya XL. You may either let me pass, or I shall treat this insubordination with the seriousness that is warranted.”

The man drew his sword in a sudden iaijutsu draw. Himari drew as well, but instead of slashing at him, she blocked his blade with Shugojin. Her left hand grasped her saya and suddenly drew up, trapping the blade between the two. Then her foot thrust forward in a kick right to his stomach. She didn’t wait for the man to finish doubling over to the ground before her eyes caught the other soldier. “Now. I don’t suppose you will be more accommodating, Santōhei?”

The smaller Santōhei who had previously been watching bored suddenly seemed very interested, and nodded quickly. “Yes, of course, Sato-sama! This way, right away!” Misao shook their head as the more sensible of guards started to lead them.

The first thing Misao noted was the condition of the houses: with the size and now-obvious overcrowding, the place seemed like it was full to bursting. The second thing that they noticed was the clear lack of discipline and frank care from the soldiers. Men and women who were supposed to be on guard details half asleep against their spears, soldiers gambling openly under the awnings. With grey clouds starting to form overhead, this place felt entirely too grim.

The soldier finally led them to the square at the center of town. Much like the rest of this place, it was overly crowded with Samurai who looked more like thugs than the noble soldiers of an Empire. Misao shook his head. Was it truly this easy to ruin the spirit of a Samurai?

Standing in the center was another man of impressive size and girth. He stared down at the two Chosen, smoking a pipe with an expression that seemed to mix boredom and disgust. Misao thought he looked more like a gang boss than a Soldier. The hint of tattoos under his kimono sleeve did little to dispel that notion. His bow to the two could best be described as sarcastic.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Well well,” his low voice chuckled out. “It has been more than a decade since someone so important as a Chosen visited Shippai Mura! I am Akihiro Chikao, Commander of the First Garrison of Shippai Mura. How might the Garrison be of assistance to the Chosen of the Emperor?”

Misao stepped forward, their hand holding Himari back from doing the same. This was a delicate situation, and they had to deal with this just right. “Akihiro-san, thank you for taking the time to speak to us. I am Haga Misao, Seventh Chosen of Emperor Ichiya XL, and this here is Sato Himari, His Tenth Chosen. We come to you on a matter of great importance to the Empire.”

“I assume,” The rotund man interrupted, “that you are referring to the Emperor’s death, and the death of your Captain?” In the corner of their eye, Misao saw Himari’s hand flex. Shit.

“Ah, excellent,” Misao clapped his hands. He had to keep the situation calm as best as he could. “You are already caught up on current events. As you can see, any word of the death of the Chosen is somewhat exaggerated. So I hope you might be able to imagine the gravity of the situation that we are here to ask for your assistance.”

“Of course, of course.” Chikao nodded his head, his face taking an overly serious expression. “So you have an entire army, then? You’ve managed to get the entirety of the Imperial Army to righteously avenge our Glorious Emperor?”

“Well,” Misao flinched. “No, not exactly. You are our first location that we have visited, of course!”

“Please, don’t patronize me.” Chikao leaned back in against his seat, taking a long drag of his pipe before speaking. “The attack was only a few days ago. Word has barely reached us here. If we’re first, it’s only because you happened to be very close to us, or you are certain that the rest of the Imperial Army is on Takahashi-sama’s side.”

“It is true that we have only been out of the city for a short time since escaping the Usurper-”

“Yes, exactly.” He chuckled. “Tell me, Misao-san. Do you know what the bounty on you and the girl are?”

A bounty. Of course. Misao realized that they had made a grave miscalculation. “No, I’ve not heard what that number might be. If it has caught your attention, then I must assume that it is not insignificant.”

“Ten thousand koku. Each.” Chikao grinned. “Do you know how much that is? I could pay my entire crew for the next three years just for the two of you, with money left for bonuses!” A murmur started to rumble through the assembled soldiers in the square. This time, it was Misao’s turn to tense up, left hand reaching for their sword.

“I… see. And I suppose you might be interested in such a bounty given its size.” Their eyes scanned the crowd for the easiest target. They had forgotten Kosuke’s most important lesson for moments like this: always have an exit strategy.

“I might be,” Chikao continued. If he felt concerned about Misao’s planning, he sure wasn’t showing it. “I suppose some of that depends. What is YOUR plan? Are you just here for refuge? Are you hoping to slay Takahashi-san and put one of the remaining Ichiya on the throne… is there even a remaining Ichiya?”

Before Misao could respond, Himari pushed past them, eyes staring intently into Chikao’s. “We are going to avenge our Emperor and my Father. I have Sworn in, and I will see it through.”

There was a brief pause. Then Chikao started to laugh a loud, raucous laugh. All of the soldiers around the three joined in, creating a cacophony of intense laughter. But then Chikao’s hand rose and the crowd halted immediately. “You, little girl? You are telling me that you will slay Takahashi Makoto, the Imperial General, who has declared herself Takahashi the First? You are going to fight through the palace guard, fight through her army? And then you will do what your own Father, once known as the greatest swordsman of an Age, could not?”

“I will,” she said as she raised her chin high. Misao cursed inwardly. Any semblance of a plan they had was being ruined by Himari’s brashness here. What was she thinking?

“Well! If the Tenth Chosen, the Brat of the Sato, declares it so, then we should just take it at face value, shouldn’t we, Soldiers?!” He rose to play to his crowd, and Misao gritted their teeth at the jabs and jeers shouted from the Crowd. Chikao sat and waved at her dismissively. “Go, girl. My men will not chase you. We’ve no interest in a bounty from the Bitch General. But neither am I going to send my men to their deaths for the sake of some war between her and the disgraced guards of an Emperor who never cared about us.”

“I’m afraid I can’t leave here without your cooperation. If you will not do this the easy way, I am more than happy to do it the hard way.” Himari had stepped forward.

Misao, realizing what she just said, stepped to meet her. “Are you insane?” They hissed into her ear. “What do you think you are doing?!”

“Trust me,” she said quietly. “I am one of the ten best swordsmen in the Empire.”

Misao was about to retort, but Chikao interrupted their opportunity to speak with a loud declaration. “What is it you think you are going to accomplish? Are you just going to stare at me until I submit, Girl?”

“No,” her voice set in steel. “I Challenge you, Akihiro Chikao. A duel of submission. If you win, I let you collect the bounty on my head. When I win, you pledge your soldiers to our cause.”

The laughter in the crowd only got more intense at her declaration. Misao looked around nervously. The cheers were getting raucous, encouraging Chikao to accept. To teach her a lesson.

Chikao rose. Standing at his full height, he was at least five heads taller than Himari. Unlike her, he didn’t reach for his sword in an iaijutsu stance. Instead, he held out his hand, and one of the nearby soldiers placed a large tetsubo in it, grey studs lining a solid wooden club. “As I said, I have no interest in turning you in. But when I win, Girl, you leave this village and never return.”

As the two took their fighting stances, Misao had no choice but to step back and watch. It may well be true that Himari was one of the ten best swordsmen in the Empire. But there was a critical problem with that claim.

Akihiro Chikao may well have been the Empire’s foremost expert in the Tetsubo.