The old Doctor flipped one page to the next as his palanquin jostled back and forth. The men that carried him up Mt.Fuji moved far too recklessly for him to write, so the Doctor simply reviewed his previous journal entries.

The Shogun was a fickle patient. The Doctor suspected that he had fallen under suspicion after he amputated the Shogun's arm. It was a spectacular opportunity and solidified the Doctor's importance, but the Shogun was emotionally immature. Resentment showed in every glance he would take at the Doctor, but it didn't matter. In time, all would come to fruition and the Shogun would be out of his hair completely.

Aside from the potential threat of the Shogun's emotions, he reacted perfectly to treatment and experimentation. Overall there was little to complain over.

And of course, as soon as the Doctor thought such things his palanquin came to a sudden halt as the sound of a horn echoed throughout the mountain along with a shrill scream.

Picking up the small lantern at his side and lifting the thin curtain, the Doctor spoke to one of the faceless samurai. "For what reason have we stopped?"

The soldier responded as his eyes darted from side to side. "We think someone was attacked by those deserters you told us to look for. Nobody has reported back yet."

The Doctor couldn't help but smirk. The thorns in his side had rather bad luck. He wondered if Kenshi and his group of 'justice bringers' had the gall to attack their caravan of thirty men, or if they would try to run with their tails between their legs.

Kenshi was rather clever, the Doctor would admit. The Doctor proved time and time again he could walk circles around Kenshi in a battle of wits, but the man wasn't idiotic enough to fail at properly assessing the situation. The Doctor would bet all of his brass coins that the group of wanted men would be gone as quickly as possible. But all that running would be for nothing. Even with their burdensome supplies and horses, if the caravan of the Doctor's samurai left as soon as possible they would catch up with Kenshi almost immediately.

But, of course, the Shogun wasn't nearly as smart as the Doctor, or even as smart as Kenshi. And to boot, he still thought he was the leader which meant they could still be easily sidetracked.

The samurai held his hand out and helped the Doctor out of his palanquin. It seemed the Shogun called for him.

As the Doctor walked, he thought. He despised being called upon by the Shogun like he was some lapdog. In the Doctor's youth when he so feverishly tried to live an honest life like most people, no one would speak or even look in his direction. He was like a spec of dust floating in the air. Except, of course, when they needed something. That's when he decided to build his legion of patients. Healthy enough to experiment on and do all the laborious tasks he didn't want to do, but too sick to leave his care. Controlled illness and as many live cadavers as he wished to study with.

For the goddess, he assumed the same. Forgotten by most except the zealous like Kenshi until she is needed. The goddess hadn't been so spoken of and prayed to for decades before she went missing. For that, the Doctor almost gave a morsel of sympathy. Enough to keep himself from finding and taking the power from such a bizarre specimen? Of course not.

The Doctor was finished with his small aspirations. Although it was actually quite convenient, he was captured by the Shogunate and thrown into camp fuman o matsu for his deeds. That was when he realized there would always be someone above him. Someone he was the slave to. Someone that kept him from truly reaching for the stars.

The only logical explanation, of course, was to completely usurp the Shogunate and raid the goddess' palace of plenty. There was so much he, and everyone he chose, could become with such power. To learn from the yokai's strength, and from the goddess' power. Even the Doctor's own mortality would no longer be an issue.

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But that would never happen if the Shogun stopped the caravan for such trivial issues, like the one currently in front of him.

Once the Doctor finally reached the Shogun and the crowd of samurai, he saw a man that looked as though he was hastily dragged halfway into the bushes, an arrow jutting out of his neck poorly concealed by the leaves and dirt surrounding his head. Along with that, he heard a deeper voice mumbling and sobbing from farther into the forest.

The Shogun glanced over to the Doctor. His face was a sickly grey and his hand clutched a bloody handkerchief. In between his coughing, he questioned the Doctor. "What do you think?"

With a sigh, the Doctor looked at the samurai shot through the neck. "I'm not capable of raising people from the dead." Yet. "Leave the cadaver here. I have no need or space to store any more organs or body parts, nor would this cadaver yield any valuable enough to keep."

The Shogun shook his head as he glared at the body. The Doctor should have known that he would be more persistent in keeping his image intact, even though they both knew that he couldn't care less for one death. "No, he needs a proper burial." Then he looked to the shield-bearing samurai at his side. "Eizo. Organize him a place to rest."

With a quick "Yes sir." the last samurai completely loyal to the Shogun was off. The Doctor so desperately wanted the ember wielding Eizo to become injured in battle so he could open him up and learn the secrets of embers. But he didn't. Not once did Eizo become injured. Either he hid or healed the broken bones or cut flesh before the Doctor could see them. Was he suspicious of the Doctor? It didn't matter, he could easily keep tabs on the samurai.

For the time being, he would have to inspect the large man shrouded in the bushes.

Pushing his way through the leaves and branches for quite a while, the Doctor finally saw the fat samurai clutching on to his clearly broken leg. The kind of strength and brutality in how the joint was broken looked similar to injuries caused by yokai, but the Doctor knew it was Kenshi. It was all far too deliberate to slow the caravan. But with the way he tried to hide the arrow shot, perhaps he was attempting to fool the caravan if even for a moment just to gain their head start.

It didn't matter to the Doctor. The largest hindrance Kenshi caused him was the leg injury. The Shogun would surely want to bring the fat samurai, but to do so they would have to carry him, slowing them all significantly.

The samurai clutched to his now slightly bleeding leg as he muttered to the Doctor, pointing up the mountain. "The-They went that way. I told them I wouldn't say anything, but my loyalty..." It all faded into nonsensical gibberish. Feeble attempts at perhaps gaining stature for acting like a coward and surviving off of Kenshi's group immaturity in regards to mercy. But the Doctor couldn't have that. With a quick glance to make sure no one could see so deep into the brush, the Doctor retrieved the scalpel from within his kimono. The fat man mumbled more to the Doctor as he leaned in closer. Luckily the screaming that he had done earlier kept the samurai from speaking louder than a wheeze. "I said my loyalty was to you! Not the Shogun! Not to the criminals! To you! I won't be-" And in a moment, the scalpel was plunged into his voicebox, keeping him from mumbling further.

With a few plunges into vital organs and more cosmetic slices to make it look inconspicuous, the Doctor's work was done. Better two body's in one grave than someone as useful as a dead horse and almost as big as one being carried with them.

The blood on his scalpel was easily hidden in his pocket, the blood on his hands would be harder to conceal, but it was still no matter. The Doctor emerged back into the valley from the deep of the woods and wore his best mask. A frown. Slight shaking. Perhaps he could even muster a tear for his most stunning performance yet. "There was nothing I could do to save him..." Inside the old man was giddy. Deceit was something he never had to practice until he began his final and most glorious plan. He experimented with the fool Kohei and gave himself a most comfortable seat when he was stuck with the group of yokai hunting samurai, but now he was much more proficient in it. And he found that it was quite a satisfying thing.

The Shogun shook his head and commanded his soldiers to retrieve the man and bury him with the other.

The Doctor thought as he walked back to his palanquin. Oh, what a horribly gruesome team of killers Kenshi has gathered.

With a smirk, he went back to reading through his journal and impatiently waiting for the Shogun to finish his egotistical burial and proceed with the journey.

The Doctor was on the cusp of everything that he knew he could accomplish. There was not a single ounce of doubt within him.

A palace made by devout followers for their god. Taken by the devout followers of... The shogunate's humble Doctor.