MISUKI APPEARED to be a content man from an outsider's perspective. Rising from the depths of society, he now held dominion over an entire country, overseeing operations in his oil wells from his throne with an iron grip. Yet, despite his apparent success, sleep evaded him. His ambition knew no bounds; he craved more power, more control. His paramount objective: the eradication of the samurai army, a threat looming over his reign. With oil prices soaring and his coffers overflowing, Misuki's recent directive had been to round up every civilian in the kingdom, pressing them into servitude as his workforce. Despite Black Gold boasting the world's richest oil reserves, the existing labor force fell short of his demands. Thus, he resorted to enslavement on a grand scale, envisioning a future where the kingdom's dependency on oil would render commerce obsolete. With the populace enslaved, rebellion seemed improbable. However, Misuki harbored concerns about the samurai corps. While he could ensnare many civilians, some had eluded capture, joining the ranks of the samurai. Aware that war loomed on the horizon, Misuki summoned Ikaru, the overseer of his guardians, seeking counsel and strategy.

The door rapped three times, punctuating the air with urgency.

"Enter," Misuki called out, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding outside: a guard's whip lashing out at a weary worker.

"Your highness," Ikaru bowed upon entering. "I was informed you sought my presence."

Misuki pivoted, motioning for Ikaru to take a seat.

"Indeed," he replied. "We've got matters to address."

"And what might those be, your highness?"

"Those troublesome samurais and our own people," Misuki declared.

"I see. And what's your plan?"

"I need a top-notch wizard. I've got an idea."

"I'll find you the best," Ikaru nodded, ready to depart.

"Make it two days," Misuki ordered with a wave of his hand.

With a bow, Ikaru exited the room, the guards at the door parting to let him through.

Meanwhile, the carriage carrying Misuki’s parents finally arrived at Lyon Shore. Kiyoro and his wife were finally released from their chains after a harrowing journey that had taken them all the way from Tiger Valley to Lyon Shore. Throughout the ordeal, Kiyoro had clung to his wife's hand, their connection a lifeline amidst the chaos. "I love you," he whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "I love you too," she replied, tears streaming down her face. "Please, stay safe."

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As a guard roughly pushed Tamura into a nearby building, Kiyoro couldn't help but sigh, the weight of their situation heavy upon him.

Then, a commanding voice cut through the air, drawing Kiyoro's attention. "You there, come forward," the guard ordered, gesturing to Kiyoro. With a sense of apprehension, Kiyoro approached the diminutive figure clad in black. "Can you handle one of these?" the guard asked, indicating a hefty wood barrel nearby.

"I believe I can, sir," Kiyoro replied, determination flickering in his eyes.

"Excellent," the guard nodded. "Lift it and load it onto the carriage. If you do this well, I assure you, you'll be rewarded handsomely."

Summoning every ounce of strength, Kiyoro enveloped the barrel with his robust arms and heaved it up with a mighty effort. With a grunt, he deposited it onto the waiting carriage.

"Well done," the guard praised. "You're a strong man, and you'll only grow stronger with time. Get used to this life, for it's yours now."

Kiyoro heaved barrel after barrel, sweat dripping down his brow as he hoisted them into the awaiting carriages. The weight of each one pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he forced himself to push through the strain. Beside him, Charles, another worker, shared the burden, offering snippets of conversation to pass the time.

"This building here," Charles explained between lifts, "that's where they store these barrels. Then, when the buyers come, we haul them all the way back to the shore and load them onto their boats."

Kiyoro's thoughts drifted to Tamura, his wife. He couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. Charles noticed his distant expression and leaned in, lowering his voice.

"Most of the women end up in the kitchen or doing cleaning, but some..." He trailed off with a knowing look. "Well, let's just say they're used for other purposes. Especially the young ones. Our king and his men have a taste for lust, if you catch my drift."

A surge of rage surged through Kiyoro, but he clenched his jaw, burying the emotion beneath a mask of composure. Tamura was younger and beautiful. The mere thought of anyone laying a hand on her sent a shiver of fury down his spine. And Kasaki, poor lad. What had become of him? The image of the boy, thrust into the cruel world of solitude, without his parents, haunted Kiyoro's thoughts as he continued his labor.

Then, the shrill sound of a whistle pierced the air, interrupting their toil. Charles glanced at Kiyoro with a nod.

"It's time for a break," he announced, relief evident in his voice.