The month set aside for rest flew by so quickly that Stas barely noticed it. He spent every free minute checking on Mari, training, and studying his own techniques.
"Your next mission," Io handed Jun a sheet with the assignment, "comes with increased danger. The Council is displeased that your students have been sitting on the sidelines away from serious risk for too long. This is the best I can give you."
"Frontline?" The sensei's single word made Stas feel the ground fall away beneath him. He understood all too well that they were not ready for real war.
"Not yet," Io's indifferent words allowed the young men to exhale in relief.
"You do have a knack for revealing something while saying nothing at all," Jun muttered, reading the mission sheet. "So, deal with the bandit gangs on the lands of the Sakuro and Jinshi clans. If I remember correctly, that's quite close to the frontline, but still not it. So why the increased danger? Ah, I see, there's a risk that there are renegade warmasters among the bandits."
Jun rolled up the sheet.
"And what do you need this time, brother?" Although both warmasters held themselves relaxed, it was clear they were carefully looking around, wary of possible surveillance.
And the fact that the students stood nearby showed a high degree of trust.
"To the east of the city of Chichi, under the Sakuro clan's domain, there will be a meeting of a couple of nobles. One of them, Renko Sakuro, must die. Preferably, his death should be considered 'natural'. There won't be experienced samurai in the estate. Just ordinary people. This will make the task easier."
"Then you've come to the wrong person, Io," Jun frowned. "I work a different profile. Blowing up that mansion is easy, but..."
"I wouldn't come to you, Jun, if I didn't truly know that your team can handle this," Io's calm gaze fixed on the tense earthling. "Isn't that right, Shiro-kun? As I've heard, your art of poison performed well in the last mission. In addition, your acquaintance with Kizashi-kun opens up some opportunities. By the way, I heard he is recovering, and his so grievous illness is receding."
'Mei or Eiji? Or did Jun let something slip when he got particularly drunk? But the latter is excluded; he would have been killed long ago for disclosing any information. In our business, too much often depends on the ability to keep your lips sealed.'
Stas looked at the frowning Jun and understood that he should not expect any hints from him. The sensei was clearly suggesting that the student should decide for himself what to answer.
"You are right, Io-san," Ordyntsev bowed politely. "This student has achieved some modest success in the art of poisons."
"I'm glad my information is correct," the man smiled briefly, as if he had done a favor to Stas and his entire lineage up to the tenth generation. "But what do you say about the assignment? Can you handle it?"
"Io-san," Stas's face twisted into a respectful expression. "I am but a simple student and cannot decide for the whole team. Such important matters are exclusively the responsibility of my sensei..."
"Listen, you serpent," Jun grimaced and apparently very much wanted to spit, so distasteful to him was the student's evasiveness. "Decide faster. If you agree, you will be the one to carry it out. We'll wait for you on the sidelines."
"Be assured, this little task will be generously paid," the Sumada clan official's eyes sparkled. "So?"
Stas took about ten seconds to think, and by the end of that time, he clearly had some kind of plan.
"Renko Sakuro has always concealed his health problems. What a pity that they have manifested just now," Stas feigned sorrow.
"I must admit, you have always been lucky, Jun," Io nodded in satisfaction. "And once again, I am convinced of that. The Kami witness, some people get what they don't deserve."
"You could use that kind of luck, brother." Jun was not impressed by the generosity of the gods.
*****
"Master Jun, wait."
"What do you want?" The warmaster stopped reluctantly, not even turning to face the approaching Stas.
"I see you're not very pleased with my choice?" Ordyntsev astutely clarified, calmly looking the frowning teacher in the face.
"Io is always spinning his murky schemes," the sensei finally offered an explanation. "Before, he had to choose missions that required brute force. But now he won't get off your back or mine at all. Still have to schlep to this aristocrat. What's there to be happy about?"
"It's about the latter that I wanted to talk to you," Stas nodded, pleased that the conversation had moved to what he needed. "What do you think about bringing in someone from outside to complete this assignment?"
"What do you mean by outside?" Jun was surprised, though realization flickered in his eyes the next moment, and he squinted. "Am I right in thinking that you want to make that girl from the village do your job?"
"Yes, master," Stas nodded in agreement. "She is ideally suited for such missions. Excellent stealth skills combined with prana control. She's been training hard for the past few months. Including how to handle a blade."
Jun thought seriously. Obviously, trust was the crux of the matter. Could they entrust such a delicate task to someone from the outside?
On the other hand, the experienced warmaster understood that trust doesn't just appear out of nowhere.
"And you're ready to send this little girl to a possible death?" The warmaster looked at the lad standing before him with different eyes. After all, it's one thing to fight yourself and another to send others.
"Of course," Stas smiled politely. "Our world is a cruel place. It's either you or them. This mission is perfect for her to test her strength. There won't be hired warmasters or experienced samurai. If she does everything right, it will all go smoothly."
"And if not?"
Ordyntsev shrugged indifferently.
"Then she's useless, and it would be merciful if she died now." By the cold look in the earthling's eyes, it was impossible to tell whether he really thought that or not.
"Well then," Jun smirked. "Go ahead and use your 'weapon,' but if she fails, her job will be on you."
*****
"Master Shiro?" Mari bowed deeply to the arriving Stas. She already knew her boss was very busy, so he rarely wasted time on pointless conversations. This time was no different.
"Get ready. It's time for you to show your worth and repay me at least part of the time and effort I've spent on you." The healer's words made the girl lose her speech from surprise, but she quickly recovered.
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"Thank you, master. I will definitely live up to your trust in me."
"I hope so," Ordyntsev shrugged. "First, take this." Mari carefully accepted a small glass vial with a clear liquid.
"This is poison. You must kill an aristocrat with it and make it look like his death was natural. No one should see you."
"Who's my target?"
"Renko Sakuro. I'll tell you where and when to find him. And yes, Mari."
"Yes, master?"
"If you fail, they must not learn anything from you. This capsule will help you die quickly. It's very rare, so don't lose it." Ordyntsev handed the girl his own pill given to him by Hideo.
"I won't let you down." Determination burned in the warmaster girl's eyes.
Stas watched her, forcing any hint of pity to die within him.
The slender girl standing before him looked nothing like a killer. And if Stas hadn't seen for himself how she had learned to break thick branches with her hand strikes, he would never have believed in her danger.
'I give her strength. I allow her to escape the abyss that would have awaited her had she not received power. Now, it all depends on her. Either she will cope, and all her sacrifices will be worth it, or she will simply die. Not the worst fate, for sometimes life in this world can be worse than death.'
*****
"Ready." Stas signaled discreetly.
"Ready." Mei, motionless in the bushes, also signaled readiness.
"Ready." Eiji froze on a tree branch, hidden in the foliage.
Before the three students of Master Jun stood a camp just beginning to wake up. The sun had barely peeked over the treetops, gilding the surroundings with its soft light.
But the quiet and pastoral landscape was soon to turn into what the gathered warmasters had slowly begun to get used to.
After all, this camp was far from the first.
Since Mei possessed the technique that took the longest to activate, and also had the widest area of effect, it was she who launched the first attack, signaling the start of the "fun."
"Earth Technique! Pitfall!" As soon as the girl finished pronouncing the name, she bent over and pressed her palms into the ground beneath her feet with all her might.
Three months had passed since their departure from the citadel, so they had time to learn and somewhat master a couple of new techniques.
The bandits, stirring in their tents, managed only to scream as the ground beneath their bodies collapsed.
And since the shape of the pit resembled a funnel, all the belongings, weapons, tents, and bandits themselves rolled noisily down, falling and crushing each other.
"Water Technique! Whirlpool!" Thick streams of water burst from Eiji's hands, dividing into several currents and beginning to move in a circle, filling the newly formed pit.
Those unlucky enough to be at the bottom were tossed about and battered against the walls, simultaneously being dragged down, preventing them from taking a breath of air.
The confused, coughing, and spitting bandits, who had terrorized this part of the road, were now merrily drowning, desperately waving their arms.
Of course, some of them had the strength or skill to get to the surface and try to grab the crumbling edges of the pit.
Only their eyes met the menacing figure standing on the edge in green armor, followed by a chilling voice.
"Earth Technique. Earthworms."
After that, their personal icy cauldron turned into a true infernal invention.
The worm-like offshoots that sprang from the warmaster didn't even try to bite the bandits, as it would have taken too much time.
No, they chose another tactic.
By elongating, they entangled the legs and arms of those swimming. They tied them together with their bodies and then pulled them down to the bottom under their own weight.
The heavier bandits dragged those lighter down with them, forcing them to waste the last bits of oxygen in a senseless struggle.
Some tried to tear and cut, but the water hindered them too much to succeed.
The water churned from dozens of drowning people and the gray worms darting about.
Finally, the whirlpool's rotation began to slow until it stopped completely. At that moment, those pinned to the bottom started to float up leisurely, covering the calming water surface with a layer of corpses.
But it didn't last long. The water created by prana had a tendency to dissipate, and soon, all these bodies would again settle in their stone grave.
And as soon as that happened, the grimacing students would begin to chop off the heads of the dead and stack them separately, to later place them in sealing scrolls.
"What filth!" Mei cried out in disgust as a couple of drops of blood fell on her clothes. "Why do we even have to do this?! We're like some despicable outcasts serving under executioners! Even executioners themselves don't do such low work."
"Well, we're not executioners," Eiji smirked, but it was clear he said it just to spite the girl. He didn't like this job very much either. "We're warmasters. And the rest of the world thinks we have no code of honor."
"Why can't we just take and bring their weapons? Look how much there is."
"Because the client specifically wanted heads," Jun said indifferently, lounging in the shade. "Now shut your little mugs and start chopping heads faster. I have no desire to stick around here all day; they'll start to stink soon."
Sighing heavily, the students hung their heads in defeat and began to swing their "hoes," collecting the "harvest."
'Ah, it would be cool if the first missions for young warmasters were something like helping people, digging gardens, and saving cats,' Stas thought ironically, chopping off someone's "noggin" with a strong axe blow. He found the axe right there, as the spear was not very suitable for this job. 'Instead, one bloodbath after another. Kill these, poison those. No variety. No wonder the sensei is always sloshed. With such a life, you either go nuts or drink.'
Another reason why Stas Ordyntsev wanted to become stronger. Then, he could set his own tasks, not following the bloodthirsty "whims" of the local natives.
*****
Renko Sakuro woke up in a good mood. Of course, someone, surely out of stupidity, had closed all the windows and doors at night, turning his bedroom into an unbearable hotbox.
Luckily, a pitcher of water was found next to the table, and the problem became less pressing.
After all, forty-three is certainly an age venerable enough to start minding one's health.
The servants respectfully provided the owner of the manor, and in the future, after his father's death, the entire province, time to get ready after sleep, then led him to the guest's apartments and, bowing, stepped back.
"I'm pleased to welcome you as my guest, Kiyoshi-san." The house owner greeted the guest as an equal. Moreover, it was for this reason he came to the visitor, not the other way around.
"It's no lesser honor for me to be your guest today." Yori Kiyoshi was just as polite.
A courteous conversation about nothing spun between the two interlocutors. When formalities were settled, the men moved on to the purpose of their meeting.
"Yesterday, we didn't have a chance to talk; after all, you arrived exceptionally late."
"My new head of security turned out to be not as skilled as the old one," Yori grimaced slightly.
"Still, I'm amazed," said Renko Sakuro, the elder son of the ruler of the Sakuro family and one of the largest provinces in Rashta. "Your idea of coming here with minimal security is very... bold. Is the situation on the frontline so dire?"
"It was the only way to be certain that no one knew of my arrival. Spies are everywhere, especially among the strong samurai of the guard. But these are trifles. The situation at the frontline is indeed not very good. But even so, you, the nobles of Rashta, dislike it, right? That's exactly why you invited me to negotiate."
Sakuro frowned, pursing his lips.
"You're right," he finally said. "That's why we're here today. The Sumada crave the blood of the Sansa and Kiatto, but for the complete destruction of the Sansa, they're ready to turn it into a war of all against all. The Sansa and Kiatto have allies in other countries, and the latter won't just watch as their potential ally is completely destroyed."
Sakuro grimaced, showing emotion.
"This war has served its purpose. I'll be frank, we've captured several cities from your country, Hyugo, and there's no point in going further. But the warmasters keep pushing us on. The Sumada refuse to stop. We called you here to finally end this damned war before it gets out of control."
"I was very surprised by your offer," the Hyugo envoy perked up. "After all, it's very much like treason..."
"It's not treason," Sakuro firmly rejected the accusation. "We are loyal to our daimyo. I'll say it straight away, we are a group of people who are by the throne. And we can convince our lord if you do the same on your side. This war is senseless and even dangerous because it could draw in other countries. And where there's war, there are warmasters."
"There's too much young blood among the great clans," Yori Kiyoshi
nodded in understanding. "And there hasn't been a big war for a very long time. Well, I see no problems on our part. We're ready to discuss the details... Sakuro-san, what's wrong with you?"
At that moment, Renko was trying to catch his breath, but he couldn't. A weak pain in the left side of his chest suddenly turned into a strong, throbbing one.
Sakuro panicked, trying to reach for his chest. For that, he even started tearing at the obstructing kimono, but he didn't make it, collapsing face down without a sound.
The frightened Hyugo envoy, running out and calling for servants, could only confirm that his interlocutor was dead.
A heart attack can happen to anyone.
At the same time, a slender figure was making her way away from the mansion, running at a speed exceeding human capabilities.
Mari heard perfectly well what the aristocrats were talking about, but she didn't care why her master wanted such a big war among the great clans.
She was just his faithful blade, the tool with which he shapes history. And it wasn't for her to think about why he did it.
Yet these thoughts did not prevent the young warmaster girl from placing Shiro on a new pedestal.
After all, it's hard not to call someone a legend if he casually prevents negotiations between two states and pushes the whole world into the maelstrom of one of the bloodiest wars.