"Do you know what supreme-level techniques are, Shiro?" Jishin mused, sharing his worries.

Stas didn't interrupt him, listening intently to the twenty-one-year-old guy sitting across from him, whose gaze seemed more fitting for a rugged, life-hardened man in his forties. "Have you ever seen what they're like?"

Ordyntsev just shook his head, opting not to mention stone giants, and poured more sake into their cups. They decided to start with ordinary alcohol. Although it had some more-or-less serious effect only on Stas, and even that was fleeting. As for Jishin, an established advanced warmaster, he couldn't care less about ordinary sake.

"It was a battle that took place in an unremarkable sparse forest. Understand, completely unremarkable. When it was all over, I couldn't find or remember anything," Jishin helplessly looked at his hands.

"We were tasked with covering the flank of the main army. We built fortifications and, as usual, dug ourselves into the ground. One reason they call us moles and dislike us for it: if we've fortified ourselves, we can't be dislodged," a hint of suppressed pride sounded in the man's voice.

"There were several supreme warmasters with us. They were the ones in command. The attack came, as always, unexpectedly. You know, sometimes I regret that we're not samurai. It would make our job so much easier."

Jishin drank his cup as if it were plain water.

"The Sansa squad, as it later became clear, was not very large, but the problem was that they had one legendary supreme warmaster with them. Back then, I didn't understand how they managed to hire him, but now, after the Avasaki clan's move, it has become much clearer."

A pause.

"Raigon the Crack - a renegade warmaster who fled his clan and ran far into our lands. His strength was such that he rightly earned a reputation as one of the elite, even among the supreme warmasters. He secretly prepared one of those techniques that earned him his notorious fame."

"What did he do?" Stas asked with interest. He wasn't playing now; he was genuinely curious about the world's most powerful warmaster techniques.

"At first, we saw a glow that was rapidly approaching us. It was so intense that for a moment, it seemed as if the sun had risen again, but from a different side, even though it was daytime. But it wasn't the sun. It was the 'Fire Technique. Giant Blaze.' It rushed toward our camp, engulfing more and more trees in its path."

Another round of alcohol was downed.

"The essence of it was that when the flame touched a tree, it would spiral inside, and then the tree would explode with a deafening crack, scattering burning splinters around, which would ignite new explosions in other trees. Then came a wall of flames. A crazy whirlwind of explosions, fire, and glow. We realized something was wrong only when the most experienced warmasters yelled for us to run."

Jishin shook his head in despair.

"You know, it looked so unreal that many just couldn't believe their death was so close. They just stood there, watching, denying the very possibility of a twenty-meter wall of fire advancing on them at an astonishing speed. At that moment, I had two dozen warriors under my command. I started kicking and slapping them into order. But I still wasn't fast enough. And you know what I did?"

Jishin grimaced bitterly.

"I grabbed the two closest ordinary warmasters to me - a boy and a girl about fifteen - and ran. We left those who couldn't overcome the terror of such overwhelming power. We raced death itself. And even if you ran, it didn't mean you were safe, because Raigon's technique, having passed our fortifications, moved further. Those who were weak perished in our wake. They burned behind us, and all we could do was run, losing comrades and praying we were faster."

Jishin slammed his fist on the table, but he was clearly controlling himself as it remained intact.

"To this day, I hear that damn crackling. I understand it was the trees, but it seems to me that our people were crackling there, too. Fortunately, Raigon's technique didn't last long. His prana ran out, and he retreated. The Sansa took our position, or rather what was left of it, and we didn't have the strength to take it back from them."

"Well, that's something," Stas grunted meaningfully. "So, this Raigon, I take it he got his nickname because of this technique?"

"Yep. But I remembered all this because, looking into the frightened eyes of those kids I saved, I realized that Katashi was absolutely right."

"Hold on," Stas froze. "Are you talking about... the prince of the water-wielding Mizuno? And why did you bring him up just now?"

"Ah, I haven't mentioned it yet," Jishin's melancholy faded slightly, and he smiled. "Once, I was sneaking through Hyugo with a small unit and came across Katashi and his bodyguard, Aoi. They were hired to steal some data from one of the important traders. We had a good sit-down, and then Sansa's mercenaries caught up with us. Even though Katashi tried to explain that he wasn't with us, he still had to pull out his spear and fight."

"I can imagine his face," Stas chuckled, unable to hold back his laughter at the image of Katashi's offended face, thwarted in his attempts to excuse himself.

"After the fight, we talked a bit, and I... told him about Raigon and those kids. In turn, he shared some of his own experiences."

Ordyntsev looked thoughtfully at Jishin, who was deep in thought.

"We couldn't understand why warmasters were only obliged to fight year after year. The Eiko clan created a beautiful city. Why can't we do the same, but on a larger scale? The samurai also have strength, but they're not hated as much as us. So we, Katashi and I, decided to change that."

"And what did you come up with?" Stas asked suspiciously, thinking, 'Into what folly has this cunning water-lover decided to drag the prince, upon whom I have so many plans?'

"We decided that the first thing to do was to tell people about the very idea of a peaceful life. You see," he reasoned fervently, seeing the perplexed look on Ordyntsev's face, "right now, no one even thinks about it. Clans fight generation after generation, and no one sees a way out. But then again, what am I talking about? We are on the brink of a new World War, and everyone can't wait to join in."

Jishin shook his head sadly, expressing his attitude toward such a desire.

"We decided that each of us would try to convey to our clan that war is unnecessary, that we can try to be protectors, not aggressors. That we can defend cities, not destroy them. And the peasants, and even the samurai, will serve us, enjoying the peaceful life we give them!"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

'Well, I suppose the samurai won't enjoy it if warmasters appear over them.'

"Jishin, wait," Stas stopped him firmly. "It's all well and good. And maybe I'll even believe that Katashi will actually start doing what you're telling me. After all, he's always aspired to it. But are you sure it's safe to meet so openly and discuss things with the Mizuno prince? How will it affect your reputation?"

"Don't worry about that," Jishin brushed it off, but seeing Stas's insistent look, he became more serious. "During two years of war, I've managed to meet many worthy warmasters. I saved the lives of many of them. Some of those whose lives I saved had brothers, parents, and sisters who remembered the good deed. Some saved my life in return. In that campaign, I was surrounded only by those I personally selected."

"By the way, was Uramasa there?" Stas digressed, recalling something important. "Did he come back with you?"

"Old man Kensei stayed to look after my unit. He even became one of the sergeants."

"And the warmasters follow the former samurai?" Stas hadn't expected that.

"Kensei managed to earn our trust," Jishin nodded proudly. "He threw himself into such desperate battles that we accepted him. By the way, thanks for sending him with me. He said it was you who inspired him to it." Jishin shot a sharp glance at Ordyntsev.

"It's nothing," Stas replied with a sly shrug, his response carefully neutral, revealing nothing more. He didn't know what Uramasa had said exactly, so there was no point in either confirming or denying. "But even if your and Katashi's thoughts do work out, they'll only work on ordinary warmasters. The initiators of such wars always sit at the very top. And they don't care how many victims there are, as long as it doesn't personally affect them."

"I understand that," Jishin agreed firmly. "But we have to start somewhere. If we do nothing, even if we get a chance, we won't be able to use it."

"Okay, but what about your brother? Is he for or against the war?"

Somehow, Ordyntsev began to find faults in Jishin's plan while the latter fervently defended it. The less idealistic Stanislav found it hard to embrace the idea of "making everyone happy all at once."

He knew people too well to understand that without bloodshed, Jishin's idea was unfeasible.

The question, as usual, was where exactly there would be more bloodshed - through the pursuit of peace or, conversely, through a greater war.

Somehow, blood seemed to flow especially desperately in both cases.

"My brother is for the war," Sumada darkened. "And I see no way to persuade him. We've clashed several times during the war, and nothing good came of those encounters. Sometimes, it seems to me that he hates me so much that he would give up the inheritance if he could personally finish me off."

"That's what I'm talking about," Stas pointed out the weak spot. "What will you do if he starts actively interfering or even harming you? Support from the lower ranks may not be enough. Besides, if he becomes the clan head, what's to stop him from getting rid of you?"

"Then I have to become someone he can't just get rid of," Jishin cut him off. "I've thought about this a lot. Fortunately, I had time. And I realized that Izuna needs a good wallop. He has to see that he can't touch me, or he'll regret it."

"You've grown up, I see," Stas smiled contentedly. Ordyntsev was glad he hadn't made the wrong choice. Jishin wasn't just sitting around waiting for things to happen.

In Stas's opinion, few people possessed such qualities.

'How ironic, Izuna has spent his whole life in fear that his more talented brother would start taking steps to seize power from him. In the end, it was his own actions that pushed Jishin to take those very steps. Of course, the younger prince doesn't want to take all the power, but he does plan to snatch a part of it.'

The conversation about serious matters paused slightly as they finally got to the warmasters' alcohol.

"Kampai!" The fiery liquid was poured into the still relatively weak but superhuman stomachs.

"Listen," Jishin squinted cheerfully. "I remember you told me you'd support me in every way. So what's up? Have you managed to win over my brother's personal guard yet, or have you set your sights on our father's guard? I know you. The city of Akaru and the son of Hyugo's daimyo are still reeling from your games."

Saying this, Jishin laughed at his own joke, showing Stas that he shouldn't take his words too seriously.

"Oh, Jishin-sama," the sugary address made Sumada choke on his own sake. "I've already started taking steps to fulfill the promise I made to you. However, I deemed recruiting among the Sumada as too risky for the time being, although I can't say that I've had no success."

"What success?" Jishin even put his cup aside to avoid sin.

"Firstly, there's my acquaintance and apprenticeship with Hideo Sumada, head of all Sumada healers. Also, I'm on friendly, even cordial, terms with his grandson, Kizashi."

"Kizashi?" Jishin frowned. "Wasn't he ill? I remember hearing about it a long time ago out of the corner of my ear."

"Let's just say I cured his illness, which is why he's recovering well and starting to get involved in clan affairs," Stas explained briefly. "Besides, thanks to your father, as you've heard, my teacher is none other than Jun Sumada himself. He's a very difficult person, but I must admit he stands by his own. It's too early to say for sure, but it can already be said that he's a valuable asset."

Jishin remained suspiciously silent.

"Moreover, among my teammates is the heiress of the Eiko family, rulers of the city of Sumada. Our relationship has improved enough that she even talks to me normally. Considering she sees me as clanless, that's a significant success."

"And finally," Stas smirked slyly. He'd thought long and hard about whether to reveal this trump card, but in the end, he'd decided he had to. With Jishin's possible help, his chances of success would significantly increase. And in the long run, the secrets couldn't be kept anyway. It would only be possible to play with the extent of the secrecy.

"As I said, I don't see the need to directly recruit Sumada, so I've made the decision to create a separate squad of warmasters under my personal control. Each of them has their own compelling reasons to serve only me, so their loyalty can be assured. They and I will be ready to carry out any order you give." The last sentence sounded suspiciously ominous.

"And what's their strength at the moment?" Jishin asked cautiously. He had already seen his friend's talents and was even afraid to imagine the scale he had unfolded over the past two years.

In the prince's mind, nightmares featuring a dozen elite warmasters clad in opaque, black cloaks, strangely set against a backdrop of red clouds, all awaiting orders from their mysterious and cunning leader, were already brewing.

"Their power is frankly not great at the moment," the answer made the prince breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn't as terrifying as he'd begun to suspect. "My kids are young, but I'm spending money and effort to educate them and make them a threat."

Ordyntsev pondered.

"So far, their limit is missions at the level of ordinary warmasters. Hmm, except perhaps in espionage, theft, or secret assassination, they're slightly above that level."

"Knowing you, I'm not surprised," Jishin snorted, baring his teeth, and Stas mirrored him with an equally toothy smile. "Yet, you've managed to astonish me once more. It's high time I accepted that you're always hiding a few tricks."

"So what's the plan, Jishin?" Stas raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Prepare and get stronger," Jishin replied immediately, perking up. "For now, we must use every month and day to gain strength and survive in future battles. It won't be easy for us, but at least we have a goal to fight for. And who knows, we might be able to keep the Mizuno and Sumada clans from war, saving a whole lot of lives."

"So, for peace?" Stas raised his cup.

"For peace!" Jishin smiled in agreement.

*****

This day seemed to herald nothing unusual. However, when Levi raised her head alertly and looked at the door, Stas tensed involuntarily.

And when a loud knock came, his confidence that he would calmly train his prana control vanished like smoke.

Ordyntsev didn't like surprises.

As soon as he opened the door, his eyes widened slightly. Before him stood a displeased and somewhat embarrassed Mei.

"Um, hello."

"Hello." The girl grunted, doing nothing to ease the awkward situation.

"Will you come in?" Stas decided to be polite and, stepping aside, invitingly opened the door fully.

"No!" Mei exclaimed sharply, but then deflated, refusing for some reason to look at Stas. "Dad said to invite you to dinner at our house. I wanted to send a servant, but he forbade it and said that since you're my teammate, it should be me!" She blurted out all at once, and the last bit sounded as though she was still arguing with someone.

"And when is the meeting?" Stas cautiously inquired, frantically wondering about the reasons for such a summons. After all, where was he, and where were the rulers of one of the wealthiest cities in this part of the world?

"Tomorrow at noon," Mei snapped, feeling extremely awkward. "Don't be late." She finished and, turning quickly, hurried away.

Stas, watching her go for a few seconds in silence, suddenly remembered something important: 'Damn, it's already evening, and I don't have any suitable fancy clothes for such an occasion! Couldn't she have warned me earlier? Who does everything have to be done at the last minute?!'