The day turned out to be surprisingly hot, so Stas, making his way through the crowd, seriously suffered from the heat.

Nevertheless, he couldn't do anything about it, enviously glancing at the passing poor who could afford to strip down to their undergarments.

The only thing hiding their loins were dirty loincloths.

At the moment, these fellows could afford to watch with concealed amusement the sweltering merchants and other more or less wealthy citizens who were frantically fanning themselves.

Stas had also acquired a fan, of a muted green color. Firstly, because of the ease of production, green items were cheaper, and secondly, the man noticed that he had started to like certain colors more – green and purple.

Ordyntsev was suspicious of such changes, guessing their origin. Fortunately, the mutations, after a sharp jump at the very beginning, stopped again, as if waiting for something.

The earthling was dressed in a regular kimono and was without armor. Over his shoulder, he carried a small bag, holding it with one hand.

Anyhow, it was no time to relax.

Ordyntsev was going to visit Mari and check on how she had settled in. And to make sure she hadn't decided to ditch him. For that, he needed to maintain secrecy.

There were only a couple of streets left to the designated tavern, and considering how close the houses stood here, it wasn't far. The only thing was to make sure he wasn't being tailed.

However, for that, he had to wait for the right moment.

"Stop the thief!" someone shouted. A dirty man rushed past, desperately pushing everyone in his path, trying to get away from the two yoriki chasing him. The law enforcers were panting menacingly, gaining on the criminal. "In the name of the law, move aside!"

At that moment, citizens and visitors going about their business obediently stepped aside, creating chaos and disorder, which played right into Stas's hands.

If it weren't for this situation, Ordyntsev would have come up with another way to distract any potential surveillance.

The man quickly ducked into the nearest alley, leaning against one of the walls.

'Are you ready?' Looking down, he locked eyes with Leviathan, who had emerged from the ground.

'Yes, master.'

'Then watch all the warmasters who continue to follow me. When I stop, report to me.'

'As you command.'

Stanislav calmly walked through the alley and moved down the street in the opposite direction of his goal. Two minutes later, he made a sharp turn to the right and, after another two, to the left. A minute later, he bought sweet balls on a stick at one of the shops.

Pretending to ponder, he once again entered an alley and started eating.

'Well?'

'Master, you were right. I sensed many warmasters, but one of them constantly followed us over the roofs of these houses. I can't tell exactly where, but that person is still somewhere here.'

'Good job. It seems the Sumada don't want to lose sight of Master Jun's student.'

'Master, but why?'

Stas didn't enjoy speaking or explaining obvious things. Back on Earth, he was frankly irritated by the need to explain the basics to interns.

Ordyntsev lacked any love for teaching, believing that his interlocutors' ignorance of the nuances of their craft was solely a mark of their incompetence.

Nevertheless, he couldn't be angry at Leviathan, and since she was still basically a child, Stas patiently began to explain.

'Apparently, the Sumada leadership doesn't trust us, which on their part is the utmost correct decision,' he smirked to himself. 'However, it does interfere with us.'

'Maybe we should kill her?' the snake suggested with childlike directness.

'Her? Though it doesn't matter. Can we?'

'I feel she is almost equal in strength to you. If we attack unexpectedly, she will become our food.'

'Let's not rush,' Ordyntsev decided after a short reflection. 'Her death might attract unnecessary attention.'

At that moment, the young warmaster perched above tensed up, quickly looking around. For a second, she felt a cold gaze from the darkness upon her.

'Besides, I doubt they will send our spy after me every time I decide to go out into the city. If they do, then we... We'll think about a solution to this problem as well.'

Leviathan's unblinking eyes gleamed with joy. She was curious, did warmasters taste different from ordinary people?

*****

Mari was diligently practicing the movements shown by her sensei, swinging a weighted wooden bokken at her house. As the teacher said, she was making progress, but the girl wasn't too hopeful.

The old ronin could only be saying so to keep her paying him for as long as possible.

But let's go back a bit.

Getting to the Sumada lands and entering the city was no trouble at all.

She was only stopped at the entrance by the Sumada, sensing her weak prana, to clarify the purpose of her visit and then check her against their list of bounties.

Since she was not on the Sumada clan's list of enemies, after paying the entry fee, she was calmly let inside.

Buying a small house was also almost trouble-free.

To be more precise, there were problems, but Mari managed to solve them in the best way possible.

As it turned out, the amount of money given to her was somewhat insufficient. It was enough to buy the cheapest house, but not enough to live on.

A solution was found relatively quickly.

A couple of woodcarving masters, who had moved to the city of Sumada for work, found themselves under pressure from the gang "protecting" the relatively poor districts.

While the pressure was weak, the crafters refused to give their house to the bandits.

But the situation was heating up.

Mari spent two days studying all the circumstances of this case, meanwhile secretly living in the attic of one of the houses. She also had no problem with food. Considering her techniques, stealing it from unsuspecting residents was a breeze.

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But something had to be done.

'I can't let down Master Shiro!' the girl frowned, shivering slightly. She didn't know how soon her master would decide to return to the city and check on her, but just the thought of it was enough to make her tense up.

And even though her mind understood that Shiro wouldn't visit her anytime soon, her heart insisted it would be better to hurry up.

There was something about this young man that made him appear to be something more. Mari had seen the fight with the bandits, and unlike his comrades, Shiro didn't command the elements and, at first glance, didn't look deadly dangerous.

But seeing how those condemned by him writhed, foaming at the mouth, it became clear that he could be far more terrifying than his comrades, as he didn't shun using any methods.

Apparently, she was in for a sleepless night.

*****

Woken up in the night, the crafters almost instantly jumped up, gripping clubs in their hands. They hadn't parted with them lately.

The strike of flint on steel, and the candle flames flickered in their hands.

"What's that?" the first man whispered to the second. "Did you hear it too?"

"Yes," a distant rumble that sounded in the hallway was hard to miss.

Gathering their courage, they carefully pushed the doors apart and stepped into the hallway.

And they almost threw themselves back into the room.

The walls and floor were splattered with red streaks, easily recognizable as blood. A characteristic metallic smell filled the air.

"Oh Kami, what demons did this?!"

"Ryuji, t-turn around," his companion's hoarse voice made Ryuji freeze, and then turn around in horror.

The window was flung wide open, and in the corner of the room stood a figure covered in shifting darkness.

The poor craftsmen couldn't even gasp from the horror. Being in the same room as a warmaster who clearly came for their souls was the epitome of a refined nightmare for the inhabitants of this world.

The creature's hand moved, pointing to two futons, each with a chopstick sticking out.

"You know what is wanted of you," the warmaster said gruffly before dissolving into the shadows.

That night, the craftsmen would not sleep again.

*****

With an emotionless face, Mari watched as the men hastily handed over the rights to the house to the confused bandits, then urgently left the city.

According to their words, they had given up on the idea of opening their branch there for good.

The girl was satisfied. The operation was successful, and all it took was some stolen chicken blood, two chopsticks, and a few words in a menacing voice.

Nevertheless, her work was not yet finished.

*****

The leader of the local gang woke up with a rather unpleasant feeling. The blanket he had covered himself with before sleeping was thrown off, and when he tried to stand up, he felt the steel of a sharp knife against his throat.

"Lie down, or you'll die," and something in the voice of the person speaking made Urugi believe in this threat.

"You can turn your head," the assassin clearly felt in control of the situation.

Needless to say, the dark figure looming over him inspired in Urugi nothing but a strong desire to rapidly empty his bladder.

"Why are you here?" he rasped. His throat so inconveniently failed him, refusing to obey its master.

"Recently, you forced the owners of a small house to leave. That was a mistake."

"We didn't know it belonged to warmasters!" Urugi babbled fervently, once again suppressing the urge to relieve himself. "We would never…"

"You will bring the deed to the building you took over and place them on the floor, after which you will never appear there again." The warmaster's words were suspiciously choppy and overly tense, but the bandit, who was already prepared to meet the Shinigami, naturally didn't notice.

It's hard to catch such details when a sharp blade is at your throat.

"Thank you for your mercy! We'll do everything exactly as you want! And..."

Without saying anything more, the warmaster dissolved into the shadows, and the leader, jumping out of bed, which was soaked through with sweat, or maybe not just sweat, ran to find his subordinates.

That night, not only he would have a rough time.

Imagine, running into damn warmasters! He would shove his foot up his deputy's ass, who had checked those craftsmen.

"Ordinary schmucks, he said," Urugi growled through his teeth. "No problems, Urugi. I'll show you no problems!"

*****

Mari exhaled with relief, picking up the deed from the floor. Only she knew how nerve-wracking it was to hold the blade to the throat of that brute. If he had jerked suddenly, she would have immediately fled.

She remembered all too well what happened when she tried to fight in her village.

And what she had told him was pure improvisation. She just hoped that the bandit knew even less about warmasters than she did herself.

Luckily, everything went well.

She had money, and now a house too. It may seem she just needed to train and learn the technique given by her master.

But Mari knew that wasn't enough. She could do more.

And that meant she needed to find those who could give her that "more."

Teachers willing to share swordsmanship skills weren't too hard to find if you looked in the right places.

Finding those who actually knew something was much more difficult.

Samurai were not suitable simply because Mari needed not just the ability to swing a blade, but to do so with prana. And a samurai wouldn't teach a warmaster.

But with ronins, it was different. Life quickly explained to former samurai that they were far from the top of the food chain.

An old ronin, having lost honor, a chance for an honorable death, and livelihood, could be a grumpy old coot, but at least he was willing to teach her. Most importantly, he knew how to infuse his body with prana and also strengthen his katana with energy.

There wasn't much to do, as Mari was afraid of attracting unwanted attention, so day after day, she trained in her house, only occasionally going out for a walk or to watch the performances of wandering artists.

And then, in the sixth month of her stay, she heard the voice she had been waiting for, preceded by the unexpectedly opening front door.

"Well, hello, Mari. I'm glad you didn't forget to draw the sun on the gates. Judging by what I see, you haven't wasted your time."

"Greetings, master," the girl quickly bowed. Behind her back, she heard the rustling of scales, already guessing who was crawling there. "I trained with all my might. And even managed to save the money you gave me. I used it for a teacher."

"Really?" Stas sat down near the extinguished hearth. Mari stood rigidly before him. "Well, I'm eager to hear your story. I really hope you won't disappoint me because you must have had a good reason for not following my plan to the letter."

The young warmaster flinched at the amount of dark promise visible in the green eyes of the man sitting before her, whose pupils were suspiciously narrowed to be considered human.

*****

"Hmm, crappy, of course, but for a runt like you, it'll do," the sensei finally expressed his opinion on the Bloody Strike technique shown by Stas. "I recognize old Hideo's handiwork. He loves to throw around semi-forbidden techniques. But still, it's not quite enough."

Ordyntsev respectfully kept silent. He didn't even want to remember what it took to find the drunken sensei and persuade him to teach at least some technique.

"Stop staring at me with puppy eyes," Jun grumbled irritably, seeing that his taunts had no effect on the student. He had tried unsuccessfully to provoke him with harsh taunts all the way to the forest, hoping to get a reaction. "I'm not an old fart from the Council, buttering me up with adoring looks is pointless."

The giant heaved a heavy sigh. He clearly didn't want to do this, but he had no choice since he had already made a promise.

"Alright, the faster we get this over with, the sooner you'll leave me alone. First, we'll check which elements you're more attuned to. For that, we'll use this seal. By the way, you'll reimburse me for it later, as it's single-use."

"As you say, sensei."

Jun laid out on the ground a short scroll with a spiral seal and a schematic image of a palm drawn.

"What are you waiting for?" he bellowed. "Place your palm so that the fingers align, release your prana, and then immediately remove your hand."

Stas didn't want to further irritate the sensei and did exactly as he was told.

The reaction was immediate. The lines began to glow softly until the entire spiral was alight with even light.

At one point, the glow reached the outer boundary, but only a few symbols lit up.

Stas still struggled with the written language, but he could read well enough, so he easily found the glowing character for "earth."

"Lucky you, lad," Jun smirked. "A good predisposition for earth and about average for water, while fire and air at the minimum. When I checked myself, I had the same, only earth was much stronger. But then again, I'm a Sumada, thanks to my dad."

Ordyntsev was completely satisfied. Who better than a Sumada could help him with earth techniques? If he had air or fire, he would have had to struggle to find techniques.

By this time, the scroll had suddenly started to smoke and burned to ashes in about ten seconds.

"Eh, what should I give you," Jun pondered. "You've got no prana to speak of, but on the other hand, good control. And training is nearly useless if you're draining all your prana at once..."

The sensei thought for about five minutes, then smirked.

"Got it. With the old man's technique, you can attack from afar, but up close with your combat skills, you're dead. So, you need something that allows you to not involve your main weakness, your hands! Right. Earth technique. Earthworms!"

Instantly, the warmaster's hand was covered with flexible gray hoses, waving around with eyeless heads.

Jun lowered his hand, and a dozen elongated worms bit into the grass, beginning to consume it with round openings that served as mouths.

The master dispelled the technique, and the earth crumbled to dust from his hand. Dozens of fairly deep holes were left in the ground. Obviously, instead of earth, it could have been living flesh.

"This technique will allow you to fight, compensating for your crappy skills. You can adjust the number of heads so that even your pathetic strength is enough. Plus, it's just right for those with good prana control. Am I not a genius?"

"You're a genius," Stas agreed absolutely seriously, completely ignoring the part where Jun had criticized his skills.

The sensei spent a few seconds looking for at least a shadow of discontent on his indifferent face, then spat.

"Need a drink," he murmured dejectedly. "At least my other students are normal, not defective like this one."