After confirming that no one was planning to attack first, the Mizuno moved forward calmly, this time without using prana.

The closer they got, the more details became visible.

Thus, Stas realized that the one he had taken for an old man probably wasn't one. Just an incredibly sullen guy with silver hair at the temples and a light stubble on his face. He was likely around forty, maybe forty-five. However, by local standards, he could very well be called an old man.

Life was too cheap here for people to live peacefully, even to the age of forty.

The second man, a peer of Jishin, attracted far more attention. Perfectly symmetrical, tanned noble face, dark eyes, and long black hair reaching mid-shoulder.

The latter could seem foolish, which, if you thought about it, it was. However, only the strongest warmasters could afford such folly.

'I can afford to wear this,' said the hairstyle. After all, if a weak warmaster had to scrape together even the slightest chance to survive, a strong one had the luxury, for example, of weakening their armor to focus on mobility.

It was a sort of ostentatious challenge and a status symbol. On the other hand, for a weakling to do so was tantamount to death.

The lad's eyes calmly looked ahead, and overall, he made a pleasant impression. Considering that his experienced companion took a position slightly to the right and behind, it wasn't hard to tell by local traditions who was the leader here.

They stopped short of ten meters. No one lowered their weapons, but no one was in a hurry to aim them at their opponents either.

"Who are you?" the "old man" asked sharply. The absence of clan emblems in this grim world was a bad sign. Such behavior meant that the warmasters were plotting something illegal even by the standards of their accursed kind.

Take, for instance, child theft and the murder of their parents.

Stas quickly looked over everyone else. Shin was still smiling at the corners of his mouth, though his smile now looked somewhat pained. It was impossible to read anything from the petrified faces of Kusa and Haru, Kensei frowned, but Jishin, on whom everything now depended, was closely examining the young newcomer's face.

"We are the Sumada," Jishin introduced his group briefly, not taking his eyes off the long-haired one. "Your face seems familiar to me. Have we met before?"

Even though the Sumada and Mizuno clans were supposedly at odds, Stas noticed that the visitors visibly relaxed, causing him, on the contrary, to tense up.

Did this mean they were expecting someone other than the Sumada?

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away, the famous Jishin Sumada, the most promising warmaster for demons know how many generations of your entire stone clan," chuckled the young man, smiling cheerfully. "And the man our troops chased through the entire Obu forest. That day, Mizuno showed who really deserves the title of a great clan."

Stas liked his smile. A man with nothing to hide could smile like that.

"I remember," Jishin nodded calmly. "The infamous Kindhearted Katashi, heir to the Mizuno family. Infamous because of your strength and weird behavior, shaming the honor of your pathetic clan."

"Watch your tongue," the heir's bodyguard snarled, but Jishin ignored him.

"Speaking of being a great clan, shall I remind you how we drove you out of Tako City? No matter how hard you struggled with your water techniques, our rocks showed that water can't stand against them."

"Really?" Katashi smirked, hands defiantly on his hips. "Then, shall I remind you that after your 'defense,' the city was still gone? Your rocks shattered it so much that the daimyo of Akanaka refused to pay you!"

"And shall I remind you that although you drove us out of the forest, we harassed you with ambushes so much that you had to retreat anyway because you were unable to cover that flank anymore?"

"Alright, alright," Mizuno laughed. "We could go on like this for a long time. Relax, we won't attack you today. Aoi, lower the swords, why spoil this day with another pointless battle?"

"It's not even clear who was about to attack whom," Jishin muttered, but, obeying his gaze, the warmasters and ronin lowered their weapons.

"Another battle?" Of course, it was foolish to interfere in the discussion of princes from two powerful clans, but Stas was used to trusting his feelings. And right now, they were practically screaming that something was wrong with these two.

"I like this guy," Katashi looked straight at Stas. "He knows how to notice important things. You're lucky to have him with you, Jishin."

"What did you mean by 'another battle'?" Sumada repeated Stas's question, not falling for the "flattery."

"Ah, it looks like I'll have to confess, we were simply stalling for time," Mizuno spread his hands. Weapons were once again directed at the newcomers.

"Give me one reason why we shouldn't now consider you enemies and liars?" Jishin asked coldly.

"Easy," the clansman shrugged, leaning on his spear. "For example, the fact that we've been pursued for days by the undead of the Deathbringers. And no matter how we try to shake them off, they follow. That's why we're not planning to attack you."

"And what does that have to do with us?" Jishin seemed to already know the answer to his question.

"Didn't I say?" Katashi feigned surprise. "Their attack is absolutely secret, and there should be no witnesses. So when they find us, which they will very soon, they won't bother to sort out who the target is and who is just a bystander."

"Damn!" Jishin's mask of calm cracked. "I knew we couldn't trust you, Mizuno!"

"Get ready," Katashi turned his back to them fearlessly, further infuriating Sumada. "They should be close by now. The last time we managed to shake them off was just a little bit. Let me warn you, we have little prana left, so don't count on powerful techniques."

"I won't let this go!" Jishin roared, then raised his hands, showing the shackles. "I'm now unable to fight at all because of these cursed shackles! How do you think I should defend myself against the Deathbringers?!"

Turning around, Katashi frowned, assessing Jishin's predicament.

"Jishin-sama," whispered Shin, even the hint of a smile gone, but Stas still heard him. "Why are you showing these dishonorable Mizuno that you're completely helpless?!"

"You're right," Katashi's response surprised Stas. "It's my fault. My uncle," the lad nodded at the older man. "Assessed your total prana as sufficient for the upcoming battle. But now I realize it's not, considering that you're unable to control it. Uncle, try to cover Jishin Sumada in this battle. I don't want him to suffer because of me."

Stolen novel; please report.

"But my prince!" Aoi protested. "My duty is to protect you, not some..."

"Uncle," Katashi's face hardened, and his relative instantly cut off his objections. "We are to blame for the situation they will have to face. Protecting Prince Sumada is the least we can do for what we've done."

At that moment, Stas felt very ambivalent. On the one hand, because of the cunning actions of one "overly smart" Mizuno, they were facing a battle with one of the most infamous clans of warmasters. And during this battle, there was a great chance he would simply be killed.

But on the other hand, Stas was witnessing a warmaster who wasn't afraid to follow some common human principles. What's more, he even seemed like a normal person! Overall, it was worth the risk to discover that there were still normal people here, even at the very top.

'Maybe that's why he got such a strange reputation in this world?' Ordyntsev wondered involuntarily. 'Along with such a nickname. Kindhearted. Here, all kinds of 'demons,' 'destroyers,' and 'doombringers' are more the norm. Maybe that's why Jishin trusted him? It seems they know each other a little.'

Sumada glared at the backs of the Mizuno, who seemed unconcerned about the stares digging into their shoulder blades.

Though Aoi remained much more on guard than his master.

Unlike their first meeting, this time, the atmosphere was even more sullen. The Deathbringers' clan had a terrible reputation for a reason, and soon Stas found out why.

Onto the clearing, with dull thuds, landed creatures resembling humans. The problem was that this semblance was very remote.

Dry, thin hands with parchment-cracked skin. Pieces of armor embedded directly into dead flesh. All of them had their stomachs cut out and innards removed, exposing their spinal columns in all their ghastly detail. Ugly and rough stitches were visible everywhere, giving some idea of what their mad creators had done to these bodies.

"Ah, necromancy. Curious." And although the faces of the surrounding warmasters showed grimaces of disgust and hatred, Stas calmly observed another direction of magic in this world.

Yes, it looked gruesome to the unprepared spectator, but the earthling had already seen its potential.

Some of the monsters had weapons implanted directly into their limbs. For example, one had a cleaver instead of a hand, while another's head sported a blade like a unicorn's horn.

It was also worth noting the clan emblems on the scraps of clothing and armor of the dead. Stas was surprised to recognize a Sumada and a couple of Mizuno. Evidently, the Deathbringers found perverse pleasure in seeing their enemies in such a state.

There were about twenty zombies in total. More than three times the number of those who could offer any resistance.

As if giving the audience a better look at their creations, the owners of this dead "theater" leaped onto the scene.

Two Deathbringers took a tactically correct position behind their servants.

But their appearance raised questions. Sagging in folds, sickly grayish skin, dark bags under the feverishly gleaming eyes. Their hair had almost completely fallen out and stood in sparse tufts. They wrapped themselves in thick dark robes as if the summer heat felt like cool autumn to them.

Their clothes bore no clan emblem, as Deathbringers were wanted in many countries.

"Sumada and Mizuno, two sworn enemies, decided to unite to die not separately but together?" one of the forbidden art users spoke. His voice was cracked and parched, matching his appearance. "Sumada, this is not your battle. My name is Koruga Deathbringer, and I promise, give us Katashi Mizuno, and we won't touch you."

"Since when can we trust the word of a Deathbringer?" the prince of the water clan mocked. "We all know that there's a bounty on your heads, and you won't leave any witnesses."

"Your decision, Sumada?" the second Deathbringer mechanically turned his head towards Jishin, unmistakably identifying the leader.

Ordyntsev frowned. Yes, he had high hopes for local necromancy. However, becoming something similar to these was something the earthling absolutely did not want. He liked his new youth.

It was becoming a little clearer why forbidden arts were called forbidden. Those twisted by this terrible magic were impossible to look at without fear.

Although he was only thirty-two at the time of the transfer, returning to eighteen, Stas realized that his sensations had weakened slightly over the years; now, all of them had returned with new force.

It was an incredibly intoxicating feeling.

He had no intention of turning into a walking ruin. The man wasn't even sure if these Deathbringers were alive or just slightly better-looking and intelligent zombies.

"Ishiro Sumada, the father of the current clan head, Goro Sumada, made a sharp and clear statement regarding such cases," Jishin's voice was almost serene. "If you see a Deathbringer, kill him. There is no place for such filth in our world. And now, looking at the desecrated body of our kin, I understand more than ever why he said so."

"Then die and strengthen our clan," Koruga plainly replied. "And with your bodies, you will restore those you destroyed and will destroy."

He was apparently hinting that during the pursuit, some of the dead puppets had been eliminated. Even now, some zombies showed signs of strikes or techniques, and some delighted their opponents with missing limbs, such as arms.

The moment the warmaster tradition of exchanging insults and threats ended, everything merged into a wild maelstrom of battle.

Stas, along with Jishin and Kensei, hurriedly ran to the side, intending to leave the dangerous area as quickly as possible. Here, they could only be victims.

But the attacking undead had other plans.

There were too many undead warmasters to hold off all of them at once. The only relief in this whole situation was that they turned out to be incredibly stupid.

Although the dead bodies retained some abilities of the former owners, like speed and durability, they still didn't use techniques, and their attacks were extremely straightforward.

Katashi's spear performed incredible flips, chopping and cutting off everything that stretched out toward his body. He didn't employ techniques, saving prana.

Kusa sharply folded his hands in a prayer gesture, and two pikes shot out of the ground, impaling a couple of zombies. However, judging by their jerks, they were far from "dead."

But Haru's fiery spew, which spread over one of the zombies, worked much better. As if deprived of controlling threads, the dead man began to rush back and forth, adding chaos.

"Be careful!" Kensei barely managed to block a strike from a zombie that suddenly appeared in front of them. Ironically, it was that only dead Sumada. His cloak was severely tattered and all muddy, but the clan emblem was clearly visible.

The strike was delivered by a hand-cleaver, which caused Kensei to sink into the ground a bit with his feet. These corpses obviously weighed more than one might think.

But worse was that on the other side, another comrade of the first dead man was approaching. His head bore a thick metal helmet, covering the entire upper part of the head, including the eyes. However, this did not prevent the monster from seeing. His dried jaw minutely trembled as if tapping out some Morse code.

Stas clenched the katana he had been given during the escape more tightly. All this time, the weapon had hung on his travel bag. But now, having thrown off his luggage, Stas drew his sword.

Leviathan's head emerged from behind his neck, swaying and hissing, but Stas would have preferred his pet to be further away. That way, at least she had a chance to survive.

The earthling tried with all his might to concentrate on prana, to find that state when the entire body is subjected to strengthening.

However, apart from acceleration, he could achieve nothing.

Full acceleration and increased body durability still eluded him. Strengthening an arm or leg for a dozen seconds is one thing, but maintaining such a state for even a minute is quite another.

And death didn't plan to wait.

Ordyntsev didn't even realize how the dead man had appeared in front of him. This time, for a change, it was a former member of Mizuno.

His katana strike on Stas's weapon easily overcame the man's feeble resistance, nearly dislocating his wrist and throwing the blade aside.

The prana that finally kicked in at full throttle allowed Stas to see in all detail the crooked, dried fingers with broken nails reaching for his throat.

And just as they were about to touch his skin, something flashed before his eyes, embedding itself in the zombie and sweeping it aside.

A whole string of water droplets spun in front of Stas, beautifully sparkling in the slowed-down atmosphere.

He tumbled to the side and picked up his sword that had stuck in the ground, then turned around.

The situation had changed, albeit not drastically, but significantly.

Kensei, furiously yelling, was raining down a barrage of blows from his odachi on the squirming dead warmaster. The prana-saturated skin and bones still held up, but the flesh bursting here and there hinted that it wouldn't last long.

However, all of Stas's attention was focused on the half of his former opponent trying to stand up.

Ordyntsev managed to see Aoi turning away, who had to retreat urgently from the black, billowing filth thrown at him by the Deathbringer.

Katashi's uncle had followed his given order, still saving the life of the prince and his companions.

But the damned dead man had no intention of dying! Having lost the entire lower half of his body up to the chest, this half of the former Mizuno was actively crawling towards the earthling.

'Fine, let's play golf, you disgusting creature!' Stas mentally cursed, weighing the katana in his hands and rushing towards the actively crawling zombie.

Meanwhile, on the side where the Mizuno members were fighting the Deathbringers, a small black sun flared up.

Forbidden arts had their ways of surprising enemies.